Facebook

I really like the concept of Facebook. I can keep up with what is going on in friend's lives, reconnect with old "friends", and Timeline will actually be worth it in 10 years when we're suffering early onset dementia (from a host of current day bad habits) and want to try to fill in the gaps in our memories.

Shit got pretty monumental on Facebook this week. They went public and it was one of the most popular IPOs of all time, I posted less than 5 status updates, the Harvard Boys Baseball Team went viral, and I was solicited by someone I'm pretty confident I met once but remember zero details about.

Message: "why you gotta be so damn pretty and a memory of mine I will never forget reallllllllllllly hope youd consider going out with me sometime hope to hear from you ya babe 555-555-5555" (obviously I'm not posting his real number)

After some hardcore investigating (i.e. texting our only mutual friend) and him deleting his facebook profile this morning, I'm no closer to solving the mystery.

I'm slightly concerned that the first thought to come into my head is: Coyote Ugly.

Crack the case or let it be? Thoughts? Opinions? Another viral video that I'll love nearly as much as those Harvard boys?

-Lulu Pin It Now!

Fulfillment

I've given a lot of thought lately to what I want to be "when I grow up". I'm a hardworking, well compensated, well appreciated consultant. I'm proud of my work ethic. I'm proud of what I've poured into my job. I'm proud to say that I have identified the steps I need to take to become part of the senior management. And, I'm being encouraged by the right players in that direction. The question is... is that enough?

I've always been free spirited and had a boundless, curious mind. Having had 2 orthopedic surgeries in the past 3 years and looking down the pike of a potential 3rd surgery, I've opened my eyes to understanding the workings of the human body. And let me just tell you, it's fascinating. Growing up, I changed my mind about my future career like most people change their underwear. Note: That means at least once a day. If you are shocked by that sentence, please open your eyes to personal hygiene. I wanted to be a paleontologist, a concert pianist, a psychologist, a car saleswoman, a sports marketing agent for the Dallas Cowboys, a forensic pathologist, a CEO, a professional singer, and most importantly, insanely rich for having accomplished nothing (see: Paris Hilton). Should I now add orthopedic surgeon to the list? The common thread in all these ideas (aside from the fact that a LOT of them start with the letter "P") is that they were fleeting thoughts to which I applied no effort. I never sat down and planned out the steps to achieve any of my dream jobs. And, here I sit, in my cubicle. I'm completing the tasks set before me and feeling more and more detached from the creative, inquisitive mind that I've nurtured for so many years.

When discussing this with great friends last night I received some simple but meaningful advice: "Take at least an hour a day and do something that interests you." And, that's exactly what I plan to do. It may shift from day to day but I am going to learn the code needed to write the next top grossing app, pursue starting up a company, brush up on my piano skills, and continue learning about the human body. I'm finally going to apply effort to my "dreams" and see where it takes me because I don't want to grow old, look back at my life, and realize that I held myself back from being the best "me". Will any of these ideas really take off? Maybe. Maybe not. I might find that my sense of fulfillment comes from generating the ideas as opposed to implementing them. I'm sure I'll find a lot of things out about myself along the way and that is paramount in my journey to lead a fulfilling life.

I challenge you to spend an hour of your day engaging in introspection. Do you feel like there are aspects of your life that could be revamped? Are you headed down the path you want to be on? Are you fulfilled?

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Jawdropper

I am currently in a state of shock.  I'm in the middle of sending out a barrage of work emails when I see that I have a new gmail message from OKCupid.  I get a number of OKCupid emails every week. *I know, I'm so popular...haha!*  I figured it would be like all the rest.  The "suitor" would be anywhere from 4'9"-5'5", 40+ years old, unemployed, and speak/write English as a third language.  I'm incredibly desirable to the loser/reject demographic.  The message:

"Hey You!

What have you been up to? I was hoping to see if you had a pic with your stright hair. so what are you up to this weekend.? Heading to WVA for mother's day?

Pete"

**Unfamiliar with the Pete saga?  Catch up here (2nd half) and here.**

WWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTT???????????????

The first thing to run through my mind was "my family doesn't even live in WV!"...and then the second thing to run through my mind was "motherf*cker" as my jaw hit the top of my desk.  This shit is "stright" up ridiculous. 

I feel that I should pass along a couple gems from Petey Poo's profile:

#1 - Dear Petey, please meet the comma.  Additionally, please say goodbye to the word 'and' (which I just learned you are only supposed to capitalize every other time you list something).  "What Petey is doing with his life":

working for my future. and loving my job. And learning about everything. and other languages and cultures. And being in the best shape of my life.

#2 - Top 3 favorite things that Petey said "I'm really good at":

1. learning the Kalimba from Africa

2. learning the Native American sprit flute

3. Drinking water

I shit you not.  He actually said he's really good at drinking water.  We clearly would never work together considering when I read that for the first time I spit water all over my computer monitor.

---------------------------

I'm clearly lacking material for this blog so I'm considering responding.  Thoughts? Opinions?  Prescriptions for antipsychotics that I can pass along to him?

Big Hug and Kiss,

KatieBug

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OK Cupid: The Saga Continues

Poor Pete. I realized on Tuesday that I could not continue to let him believe that he would ever see me again. I thought of many different ways to communicate my message.

At first thought:
Petey-poo,
You did all the right things. You molested me on our first date, gave me a nickname, took yourself off the market, and stalked me via text and email. It burdens me to have to tell you that our love affair must come to a close. It appears we're looking for different things. I want an intelligent, non-psychotic man and it appears as though you want a girl with self-esteem so low that when you shove your tongue down her throat she translates that into real emotion and falls deeply in love with you.
With a heavy heart,
Katiebug
_________________________________________________________________

I realized that with the competence of a second grader he might mistake my sarcasm for true love and this could quickly take a turn into fatal attraction territory. My response was short, (not so) sweet, and to the point:

Pete,

This is much too forward for me. I don't think we're looking for the same things. Good luck on OKCupid.

-Katie
_________________________________________________________________

I did not expect a response. Who wants to respond to rejection? If I thought you were forward before, a response is DEFINITELY not going to reverse that feeling. Fortunately for you, Peter is committed to providing ongoing entertainment for my blog in the form of an email void of all spelling and grammatical rules. I present to you the explanation:

Katie your taking me way to literially. Iam sorry sweetheart let me explain. When i say i wanted you to come home with me of course i find you attractive and would like to ravish you who wouldn't. but iam a gentlemen and i can assure you nothing would have happen. More so than anything i didn't want you to drink and drive . I would had fed you show you my Cowboy gear and keep you safe and warm. believe me sex is not a problem for me what i want is a relationship with someone i enjoy and have common interest with. That's why i was kissing and hugging you because i like you. Remember when that girl came up to me a couple of times i think she was trying to hit on me but each time i would wrap my arms around and kiss you. and all she can say was that your pretty. and when you told me you have standards and wouldn't come home with me it did make me happy because i knew you were a woman i would like to be with because you have morals.

And about the slave thing lol. Wow what were you thinking naughty girl haha. I ment be my slave while still on the date just for a hour.

you know what i would have made you do ? i would have you to put your hand on me when we kiss. give me a big hug, slow dance with me,hold my hand. and other things to get you to show me affection. So when i texted you that night hoping you got home ok because i was worried.

and to tell you i had a great time you never replied. So i emailed you and i know i can be a bit blunt and strightforward with my words but that's just the easy,funloving,southern nature comming out. So i can understand how you might take it as being fresh and forward. So forgive for my choice of words. but you know what hurts my feelings? you let stew for 2 day not knowing if you got home ok. and you couldn't even tell me that you had a good time and you enjoyed spending time with me like i enjoyed you. that's what hurts the most because i really like you. i dont kiss and hug just anybody. but i guess i'll try to understand. so thanks for spending sat night with me. and i hope you find the man of your dreams. you'll make any guy a awesome girlfriend.

Big Hug and Kiss,

Peter

_________________________________________________________________

It's good to know that Petey-poo has taken a more formal approach to the email signing it Peter. I was completely unaware that "Big Hug and Kiss" was the new formal valediction. I'll have to update my signature block at work.

I was also unaware that his invitation to join him at home would entail being fed, seeing football memorabilia, and being kept "safe and warm". I'm not sure exactly what moment of the date I sent off an underfed, vulnerable, and frigid vibe but he certainly picked up on it. I mean, let's face it... he's pretty fantastic at picking up on vibes. When the girl next to me at the bar kept telling him how beautiful and adorable I was and how he should make out with me he read that as her hitting on him. Umm........... is that the new tactic? I should hit on guys by telling him to make out with other girls? WHERE WAS I DURING THE RISE OF THIS FLIRTING TECHNIQUE??

I will freely admit my inability to remember the simplest US and World History facts. History is not in my wheelhouse. However, I've seen enough TV and movies to understand the concept of slavery vs. sex slavery. Slavery never lasts for "a hour" nor does it involve slow dancing and showing affection. Of course my mind went to sex slavery. And, while I look damn good in black I'm not trying to get all dominatrix or submissive on a date, Peter peter pumpkin eater.

"That's what hurts the most because I really like you" should NEVER be a phrase uttered or written to the person with whom you just went on ONE date!! I'm sorry I managed to break your heart after 3.5 hours of my company. The takeaway is that HOLY SHIT I THINK I HAVE A SUPERPOWER. I never knew I could get a guy to fall in love with me that quickly. If this shit pans out I could TOTALLY be married with kids by age 30...which by the way is only 2 years 3 days away.

Will I be able to reign this power in? Will I continue to make everyone around me fall head over heels in love with me? Consequently, will I be spending a lot of time breaking hearts? Does my power work on people of the non-psychotic persuasion? Only time will tell.

All my love in a warm embrace with a light kiss on the forehead,
Katiebug Pin It Now!

OkCupid

I think I finally understand the name of the site...with the exception that they left off half the phrase. I think it stands for "OK, Cupid... where the f*ck are the normal people?"

This week I went out on a limb and went on 2 first dates. My DVR was mostly cleared off and I had nothing better to do so I figured "why not?!".

Date #1: Dan - a.k.a. Mr. "I'm so much cooler online"

Dan was a seemingly normal guy. In fact, when described on paper he was my Mr. Right. I was so sure of this guy that when emailing with him I informed two of my close friends to start bridesmaid dress shopping b/c he was Mr. Perfect. Dan is 32. He's Irish Catholic, comes from a large family, is an Army brat, loves board games, loves sports, is taller than me, and has season tickets to the Caps. What more could a girl ask for? Dan and I met at Backyard Grill on Wednesday for happy hour. The timeline:
5:00 - I arrive, order a beer, and hand the bartender my card
5:05 - Dan arrives and orders a beer
5:06 - The bartender asks if we're together and Dan replies "yes"
5:06-6:30 - Dan and I each have 2 beers and I ask normal first date questions showing a level of interest in his life
6:30 - Dan asks the bartender for a menu
6:35 - Dan asks me my first question -- what do I want to eat??
6:45-7:15 - Appetizers arrive and we each order our third beer
7:15 - I now know EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT DAN. I could write a 10 page paper on which board games he likes and which ones he doesn't like, every place he has lived, every place he has worked, how many siblings he has, where his sister is getting her PhD, why her sister transferred schools, which schools he has attended, which schools he has subsequently dropped out of, what recent certification he got at work, the size of his condo, his monthly mortgage payment, etc. etc. Dan could tell you that I have curly hair and like spinach-artichoke dip.
7:20 - I order water signaling that I'm done with this date
7:24 - Dan orders his 4th beer
7:25 - I pray that SOMETHING interesting/sad/horrific/noteworthy happens on the TV in front of us so there is something to talk about
7:30 - First bathroom break
7:40 - Finish my water and contemplate how on earth I will ever make this date end
7:45 - Dan orders his 5th beer
8:00 - I finally mention that I want to leave so I can put my nieces to bed
8:02 - We signal the bartender asking for the check
8:02-8:04 - The bartender asks if he should run the card he has (MINE!!!) and Dan and I enter into an annoyingly long period of silence where I have no idea what to say
8:05 - Dan asks to see the bill. Yes. He wants to see the bill. The bill that includes my 3 happy hour priced bud lights, his 4 bud lights and 1 fat tire, and the 2 appetizers of which he ate 90%
8:08 - We receive the bill and he mentions "Let's split it."
8:09 - I almost burst into tears realizing that I've put myself through 3 painful hours and not only am I not getting free booze for it, but I'm paying for some of his beers!
8:12 - I hightail it out of the restaurant, give him a hug, and hit the road

I didn't care that Dan showed no interest in me. I wasn't falling for his personality either. What I don't understand is WHY THE F*CK ARE YOU MAKING ME SIT HERE FOR 3+ HOURS WHEN YOU WANT TO KNOW ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT MY LIFE????? Let's cut our losses and move on.

Thursday came and went and I resolved that I would never hear from him again. Good riddance.

Friday @ 10:05 AM - Dan emails me. My jaw drops.
"Hello, Hope you are well here on the cusp of a 3 day weekend. It was nice chatting with you the other evening and thank you for offering to pay. Do you have any big weekend plans? I think they are suspecting some nasty weather on Sunday / Monday.

Take care,

Dan"

In the 1 minute it took you to type up 4 sentences you managed to come up with a question to ask me yet in the 3+ hours we sat at Backyard Grill you had virtually nothing?????

I wanted to respond and tell him my big weekend plans were never talking to him again but I've shown some restraint. Did he really have a nice time? Is he that clueless???? Ugh...men!

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Date #2: Pete - a.k.a. when shit got weird

Pete seemed like an average guy. His profile was lacking in content but our email exchange was fine and he was a fellow Cowboys fan so I figured I should give him a shot. Pete and I were supposed to go out on Friday night but timing was an issue and I postponed to Saturday night. The plan was to meet at 8:00 at Fast Eddie's in Fairfax. I was less than excited to drive out to Fairfax for the night when there are so many great options in Arlington, but I could deal.

I arrived at 8:00 to see Pete sitting at the bar. We did the awkward I'm-going-in-for-a-handshake-and-oh-shit-you-want-to-hug thing. Conversation flowed smoothly. He bought me a beer, we talked about bad date stories, he bought me another beer, we talked about work, he bought me a shot of Jameson, we talked about football, he bought me a Black Toothed Grin shot, we talked about spirituality. Things were fine with the exception that I was getting wasted. I had one of those days where no part of me was remotely hungry so I ate very little. On the way to the bar I (intelligently) stopped at 7-11 to get a Special K Meal Replacement bar. Those things fill you up... however they don't suck up almost any alcohol on a night of drinking. Pete closed the tab since we had decided to go play darts.

It was at this point where I realized Pete was just not my type. That should have been my cue to leave but alas I chose to "see it through". Pete is 36 and the Operations Manager of a Guitar Center. He talked about his love of music as a kid singing in the church choir and how singing helped him overcome his stuttering problem. Cute. Somehow that "directly" led to his dropping out of college to start a Metallica-like band called Jam Bone. Not cute. He had hair longer and curlier than mine, played gigs all over Texas, LA, and NYC, and presumably did a LOT of drugs. He talked about his drummer dying in a car wreck and how that made him "reconsider his choices" and get out of the music career. Since he still owns and drives a car I'm assuming the wreck was drug/alcohol related. He has since cut his hair but still has the arrogance of a "rocker" and wears 3x as many rings as I do.

Pete and I had another beer while playing darts and this beer completely tipped him over the edge of obnoxious PDA. He became "handsy" and wanted to make out every 5.5 seconds. Awkward. Karaoke had just started up and we both decided to sign up to sing something. Karaoke must touch his soul (or his penis) because it took his PDA to an all new level. We're talking full-on trying to molest me at a bar. Thank GOD they never called our names because his song choice's lyrics included:

"And there’s a storm that’s raging
Through my frozen heart tonight
I hear your name, in certain circles
And it always makes me smile
I spend my time,thinking about you
And it’s almost driving me wild"

Unfortunately they did call up a young black girl who was "feeling the pain and sorrow of Whitney's death" and chose to sing "I Will Always Love You" as a tribute. Not only did she sing the song, she consistently padded it with "I love you Whitney" and "RIP Whitney". I mentioned how I liked the song (WHICH OHMYGOD WAS THE WORST THING I COULD HAVE SAID) because Peter stood up, put out his hand, I put out my hand (in serious confusion), and 2.7 seconds later we were the only people on the dance floor slow dancing to emotional Whitney karaoke at a pool hall while he tried to run his fingers through my hair and make out with any surface on my cranium. I almost vomited. I challenge you to the question "Can shit get any weirder than this?????????"

After the emotional performance I decided to go and he walked me to my car trying the entire way to convince me to come home with him b/c he only lives 10 minutes away. Every time I said no he'd counter with "We don't have to do anything. We can just hang out for awhile."

***Men of the world: WOMEN ARE NOT F*CKING IDIOTS. WE WERE NOT BORN YESTERDAY. IT DOESN'T TAKE A SECRET DECODER RING TO FIGURE OUT THAT "HANG OUT" MEANS "HAVE SEX". Seriously. Get some game.***

Luckily I escaped after a few minutes of making out, went home, made a can of chef boyardee ravioli, made a bag of uncle ben's rice, and passed out.

Shit got weirder...
I awoke the next morning to a text he sent at 1:15 "Sweetheart, I hope you got home safe. Had so much fun with you. Big hugs and kisses, Pete". Things I don't want to wake up to after a night of drinking? Vomit-inducing texts.

I did not respond. What do you say to that???

Later in the afternoon when Rosie came over I began to outline the awkwardness of the date for her. When she asked to see a picture of him I pulled up OKCupid and looked for his profile. He deactivated it. CCCCCCCCRRRRRRREEEEEEPPPPPPYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!

And then shit got weird to an entirely new level...
Around 7:00 Sunday night I received the following email from him.
**DISCLAIMER: It's ridiculous, gross, awkward, and may make you feel nauseous. Grab a bucket.**

"Did you sleep in today? I know i did lol. Sweetheart iam sorry we drank so much since you had to drive. I should have insisted on you comming home

with me to sleep it off. But last night was fun and i hope we can spend some more time together soon. Hey don't think i forgot that remark about schooling me in pool. Were just gonna have to see about this lol. If you loose you have to be my slave for a hour. and if i loose iam your slave for a hour. But don't worry iam a good master.

I also wanted to tell that you are a good kisser and i like running my hand through you hair. and iam sure when you strighten it i'll like that too.

Sorry about being a little frisky with you last night. I wanted to take you home and ravish you but i respect and turned on that you didnt if that makes sense. but next if we drink too much you're stay with me no but's. Have a good monday Katiebug and looking forward to next time."

AREWEFUCKINGSERIOUS?????
#1 - did you drop out of college or 3rd grade grammar?
#2 - you're bringing up slavery like it's a good idea?
#3 - Katiebug?????????????????????????????????????????????????

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If you can identify the character trait in me that is attracting these douchetards, please let me in on the secret. Until then I'll continue to weed out the losers in hopes that one day I meet someone worthy of my time and attention.

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