FWB, WTF

Two weeks into Match, two weeks to go. I signed up for just one month so soon enough I will only be wasting time on Facebook. Although I think I can say with confidence that my search for love is over. There is a studly 65 year old pursuing me who described himself as "mature" and seeking a long term relationship (I think short term is more realistic considering his age but whatevevs). Anyway the best news is he is willing to have more children.

I can gather a lot of information just from one's photos. I am not sure if that makes me judgemental or a character expert. But here are some tips-I will not be responding if you are wearing an Affliction tshirt; have only pictures of your dog; or your photos are of photos from the 90's. Just sayin'.

I am finding that online dating could be a full time job. I barely work and see it a challenge to keep up. One of the most difficult tasks is to remember where you are in a conversation with someone. I think my days of Ambien popping have caught up with me seriously impaired my memory. That reminds me! I went out with a pharmacist who told me that Ambien is the absolute last thing he'd ever take. He said that it causes "psychosis." For those of you that weren't psych majors psychosis is described as an abnormal mental state involving a loss of contact with reality. I smiled and nodded not wanting him to know "duh!", that is why I take it and chase it with red wine.

One guy I went out with text me saying how much he liked me but that I should know he's just looking for "fwb". I am so naive I had to ask to the room aloud what that was. Ah, yes. Friends with benefits my room mates explained (the kids all speak in acronyms now, it is so confusing). I didn't respond until the next day when he invited me over for a movie. I told him he was a good looking guy who should have no trouble meeting a girl who'd be happy to fall over with her legs in the air. He retracted his "fwb" comment, claiming he just wanted to hang out. I countered saying that inviting a girl over for a movie has meant the same thing since high school and good luck. I was prude then and I pretend to be prude now. So much for chivalry and romance.

I wonder if Bonnie Tyler ever found that hero she was holding out for....

Must Love Duds

Break out the ice skates kids, hell has frozen over. After a bottle of Shiraz and years of contemplation I joined Match.com last week.

I have to start by saying the promise of matching people based on compatibility is hilarious. For example, my match of the day says "Like you, he's a non-smoker. Like you, he enjoys dining out. Like you, he loves dogs." I am not in a rush to pick out a wedding dress based on these ground breaking things in common.

I have received some of the most bizarre emails from the strangest of suitors. I feel bad not responding to these duds, but word on the online street is that is protocol if not interested. I feel like I should send out some formal rejection response, something along the lines of "thank you for your interest. Your application has been reviewed, unfortunately...." Not to imply that I am all that and a side of fries because there have been a few studs I have been interested in and been www.rejected/...

I had my first date and wasn't murdered so I considered it a success. I found the most terrifying part correctly identifying him in a crowded bar. My biggest fear was to approach a single guy and ask "are you so and so?" only to have his girlfriend return from the rest room. I found my date on the first try though and our drink lasted 3 hours. You would assume a 3 hour date would be a home run, but to be honest my attraction was stronger to the Ketel One I was drinking. He lost me when he mentioned what tanning salon he went to.

I had another date who was a total prince charming but something was missing. I seem to prefer my men in the frog stage. I have been waiting for my leading man to find me in perfect lighting with a killer soundtrack. Beginning to think life may be a foreign drama and not a romantic comedy however!

Not giving up on trolling for men online just yet. If nothing else it is just good for me to get out of the house and meet new people. Last week when I was leaving my room mate asked me what the occasion was because I had jeans on. Not. good.

3 Days, 2700 Miles, 1 Raccoon and Countless Cheetos

3 days, 2700 miles, 1 raccoon, and countless Flaming Hot Cheetos later I have arrived safely in Virginia. Barry graciously offered to serve as Captain of the cross country adventure and I humbly served as first officer. My responsibilities included routing rest stops, telling Barry to slow down, speed up, stop texting, and requesting meals. You better believe I found an Olive Garden in Toledo, Ohio. Booyah!

A quick roadkill rant. We saw sooo many animals on our journey both alive, and not so much. One question, what the F are they doing hosting social hour along I-90? I mean hasn't word traveled that it's the place to be killed, and not to kill time? You think some little Bambi would tell his sob story to the rest of the animal kingdom and put a little stop in their step, but no. All the roadkill really broke my heart. But then becoming the roadkiller and murdering that little midnight bandit, I am all torn up. Mr. Raccoon, I am so sorry. But I think we can agree, this was your fault. RIP.

The last week has been just a whirlwind. There are a million and one things to get done before I can really let my breath out and hair down. For someone who considers a productive day plowing through the DVR, I am left utterly exhausted. In order to get my required visas for China and Russia I had to renew my passport. I was thrilled at the idea of getting a new one because my last photo is so shameful. I spent a little extra qt with the blow dryer the other morning in preparation for my CVS passport photo shoot. My glamour shot balloon was brutally burst however when I was told I couldn't smile and my hair had to be behind my ears. Do you know how much time I spend making sure my hair is in front of my ears? So, not my best feature. My smile however TOTES is, but apparently immigration could care less. After multiple attempts my photo came out looking like a mug shot; and not a saucy Lohan one, we are talking tranny hooker mug shot. You win some, you lose some....

With A Little Help From My Friends

Well, my time in Seattle is winding down. I know this only because of the small amount of calendar days left before I leave and not at all due to my preparedness for departure. 10 days, guess I should start packing. But wait, New Jersey Housewives are on...maybe tomorrow.

I have had an amazing September. Birthday number 27 was truly exceptional. Flowers, balloons, gifts, cards-the love came from all over the country and I was truly humbled. After receiving $200 in Olive Garden gift cards I decided I need a new reputation. It might be nice to be known for a love of fitness, or philanthropy as opposed to cheese ravioli in marinara sauce and salad with no veggies, but extra croutons and dressing. Hmmm, that sounds good. Maybe my rep isn't so bad....

I have been doing my best to make my time left with my dear friends count. But I realized it has always counted and it has always been special. I will miss these women so so much. They are the salt to my french fries, the pepperoni to my pizza, the vodka to my soda. And it is these deep rooted friendships that give me the courage to make these crazy moves. No matter where I go, no matter how far, for how long they are cheering me on from home base. Not sure what I have done to deserve them, but I hope I keep it up.

Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

After reading my last post, I am making the executive decision to cut myself off from Ambien cocktails and blogging. Not the prescription drug use and red wine consumption of course, only the dangerous writing element. I came off sounding like Debbie Downer's sister, Suicidal Susie.

Been busy living life as of late, instead of writing about it. Work has picked up this summer, which is great in theory but in reality is royally annoying. I have been waiting for the mythical Seattle summer for months, it is sort of here and I am missing out! I have been on an exhilarating domestic tour including exotic Tampa, Denver, Chicago, etc. That is about to change however because I have accepted a transfer to Washington D.C. While I am sure I will still get my share of Wichita lay overs, I will also be traveling to places including but not limited to Ghana, Moscow, Frankfurt, Dubai, Beijing, Rome, and I cannot wait. The time has come for me to see the world.

I will leave Seattle next month with mixed emotions, just as I left New York, and Los Angeles. Saying goodbye to my wonderful friends will be the most brutal part. They are sending me off with love and support, and with them I am leaving behind a piece of my little black heart. Thank sweet baby Jesus I fly for free. Surely I will miss them too much not to visit often. Otherwise Seattle can suck it!

To new beginnings, again.......

Nobody's Girl

As of late I have felt rather lonely. Being in Seattle has been a tremendous blessing because my nearest and dearest friends are here. It has also been a bit of a curse because my nearest and dearest are all married, engaged, or in love which leaves me feeling left out and so alone.

People often advise me to create a list of what I am looking for in a man. It is no surprise that when I sit down to write this list, these are the things that come to my musical mind....

I want a man who gives me a kiss to build a dream on.

I want a man who sees my diamonds on the inside.

I want a man who will make me banana pancakes.

I want a man who thinks I am some kind of wonderful.

I want a man that wants to hold my hand.

I want a man who swears I am a pretty woman.

I want a man who wipes away the tracks of my tears.

I want a man who says you look wonderful tonight, every night.

I want a man to share a Sunday kind of love with.

I choose to remain hopeful, you never know, he may just be a 100 tears away......

iSuck

RIP Blackberry. After a long committed relationship I had to dump the Curve and upgrade to the iPhone. It has been an uneasy transition partly because I am behind the times in a big way. To say I am not a tech savvy person is putting it mildly. I have been in my apartment for 8 months and my DVD player has yet to be hooked up. After uploading music to my first iPod I held it up to my ear and swore it didn't work, cue the head phones. My grandparents had to explain to me how to use the Wii. Fortunately the iPhone is quite user friendly. Perhaps too user friendly. People have been telling me left and right about all these apps to download. Cassie downloaded the Sex Offender app which I had to consequently hurriedly delete. I'd rather not know exactly how many sex offenders are in a 3 mile radius of where I rest my head at night, I enjoy sleeping soundly.

I must admit though I am enjoying the phone. My biggest concern at this point is damaging my new buddy. They do not make baby bjorns yet for the iPhone so it is up to me. Care for the phone includes but is not limited to not leaving it in my lap and dropping it on the ground when I get out of the car, keeping it in my back pocket and losing it in the toilet, spilling a drink on it, giving it to a baby who considers it a teething ring, etc. Oh the responsibility!!

My Guy

I often times feel like the oldest babysitter on the planet. I feel that I should be doing something else with my free time. I feel like these are not my children why am I dealing with this crap...literally. But then there are these moments. Moments that are so special, so sweet and so heart warming that not even words can describe. Thank you iPhone.

Back in the Saddle

After a few weeks of successfully sustaining positive eating habits, I have fallen off the wagon. Actually I jumped off the wagon into a tub of Zip's fries. I journeyed to Spokane last week and the temptation proved too strong for this weak fast food loving heart to resist. As much as I look forward to spending time with my little nugget nephew and darling grandparents, I also cherish moments spent with pepperoni slices from Pipeline and mini corn dogs at Zip's. This fact makes me shameful and a candidate for Oprah Winfrey Network's "Addicted to Food." Here is another fact, it was so worth it. I am home in Seattle and have turned back into a pumpkin. Spring Break 2011 commences Wednesday, so no eating anything sinful til then!

Sister Wives

For those of you who are not tuning into Sister Wives on TLC-what the hell is the matter with you? To be fair, perhaps you aren't aware of this magical reality nugget. I am happy to educate. Sister Wives follows Kody Brown, his four wives, and their collective sixteen children. That's right, just a cozy family of twenty-one. I happen to think there is something severely wrong with me because Kody is a fundamentalist Mormon polygamist, yet the most disturbing thing to me about him is his hair. Beyond that he is an absolute goon. And you can't help but question the sanity of the women who voluntarily share him with one another. It is the strangest thing though, I can't help but like them, and even root for this super sized brood. On the one hand I think this outrageous way of life is royally effed up. On the other hand this unique family seems genuinely happy and truly loving. I am one to live and let live, especially if there are cameras capturing the living for my entertainment. And who is to say I wouldn't have brother husbands if given the chance. Although, at this point I'd settle for one husband!

Step Down

Continuing our tour of embarrassment at 24 Hour Fitness Casey and I took a Zumba class. Zumba is described as a "Latin-inspired, calorie-burning dance fitness party." Me attempting to participate in Zumba can be described as a "nightmare-inspired, leg tangling dance dis-fitness disaster." I thought it would be a breeze because I bust mad moves. At Zumba I just bust. Look for me in the next dance blockbuster Step Down.

Kicked & Spun

My new boyfriend Gym & I have been seeing each other for a few weeks now, & I have to say it is getting serious. I have worked out with my trainer Stephanie twice. We have a deal where I make her laugh for an hour & she kicks my ass. Oh, I also pay her. Feeling a bit more comfortable I decided it was time to give classes a shot. My good friend Casey also joined, & is already proving to be a wonderful workout buddy. Last night we attended our first Kick Boxing class. The 90 pound instructor started by explaining that this routine involved highly intensive choreography. I peed a little in my pants, flashing back to cheer leading tryouts freshman year where I couldn't master even those infantile steps. I basically flailed about in the back hoping not to be not to be noticed or go into cardiac arrest. Due to the wall to wall mirrors I couldn't avoid how ridiculous I looked. I breathed a sigh of relief that I'm not starring in a reality show. That's a scene I'd never live down.

This morning we went to a 5:30am Spin class. Pause for reaction. Spin makes my finger nails sweat & I love it. After my second class I have conquered my fear of being the only participant to fly over the handle bars on a stationary bike.

I haven't weighed myself yet. But I am no longer frightened at the sight when I step out of the shower. That my friends, is what we call "progress."

Gym. Tan. Bravo.

In an effort to lift my sagging Seattle spirits I have joined a gym. Rumor has it that working out releases endorphins which make you happy blah, blah, blah. Additionally, I unlike Sir Mix-A- Lot do not like big butts, particularly the one that has been following me around the last few months. When I signed up I was offered a complimentary one hour workout with a trainer. Richard Simmons wasn't available so I settled for a girl named Stephanie. There are all kinds of sexy male trainers, but I'd rather talk to them about well anything other than my "problem areas." I have been enjoying my workouts on my own but am hoping Stephanie will teach this fat dog some skinny tricks.

I have also embarrassingly enough resorted to tanning. I thought these crazy Jersey Shore characters are making mad money, perhaps they are on to something with this GTL business. Light therapy seemed like it would co-inside perfectly with my new gym routine.

As I previously blogged I have a severe fear of the laundry room, so I have catered the Jersey Shore schedule to suit my needs. I need Bravo. Bravo is chicken soup for the reality soul, it just lights up my life. There is not a housewives series I won't watch. Bring on Fargo, Kansas City, Yakima. I will watch them all, after the gym and tanning of course!

No One Likes Doing Laundry....

I like it the least! Not even because it costs $4.00 a load but because I am terrified of the laundry room in my building. I fear it like Kevin McCallister fears his basement. It looks like a storage room for dead people and smells like a storage room for clean dead people. The only logical thing to do is buy more underwear. Oh, and if I go missing tell the police to check the laundry room first.

Never Say You'll Never See Never Say Never

My name is Emily and I'm a Bieleber. I have loved Justin Bieber since One time, and I love him now that he is the ripe old age of 16 (in only the appropriate ways of course). It is no secret that my most intimate relationship is with my television. As a result I can recite the entire commercial for Justin's movie "Never Say Never." As many times as I have seen it, I still get misty. If anyone knows a fifteen year old that would like to see the very moving film it promises to be, let me know. Spread the word that I have a license and will spring for Sour Patch Kids.

Happy Happy New Year

I rang in 2011 in the most unbelievable way- celebrating the love of an amazing couple with my closest friends & hundreds of strangers. Dear sweet Molly joined her perfect match, Matt in wedded bliss in a beautiful New Years Eve ceremony. The lucky guests danced til 2am, we also ate, and maybe drank a little. My friends make the most stunning brides, and Molly was no exception. The wedding was one of the most elegant events I have had the privilege of attending. Thanks for falling in love and getting married guys! What are we doing next year?

I really needed a hell of a New Years because Christmas was truly miserable. I spent Christmas Eve drinking with well, I forget their names at a hotel bar. That is not even the sad part. I came home the next morning from my trip and spent the rest of the day with the Housewives of New Jersey. While I love these women, they don't really exude the Christmas spirit, especially Danielle ;) I cried all day. If I had anything in the house stronger than a butter knife I'd have been a goner for sure. After years of working and or being alone on holidays you would think I'd be used to it. Not yet....

After the wedding I jetted to Oahu with my loud mouthed Long Island lover, Michelle. We were taken in by my generous friend Billy (you all remember the futon story) and his girlfriend Kellie. They not only put a roof over our heads, but cooked for us (well Kellie did!), and gave us the most incredible insiders tour of the island. It was such a special way to kick off this year, and those memories keep my heart warm on these cold Seattle days.

I have a lot of hope for you 2011, don't let me down!

Sad But True

It is sad but true that my first post of 2011 is about The Bachelor. Also sad but true that Brad Womack is the only man in my life. Let it be known that this show brings me great pleasure, not even guilty pleasure people. That being said, it is so stupid! Each week the women are astounded by the grandiose dates that the show creators have produced, but seemingly give Brad the credit (I guarantee in 6 months he will be saying "I don't know, what you do want to do?"). Who wouldn't feel like they are falling in love drinking red wine on an outdoor bed fire side? They need to go to Applebee's and see how much fun they can really have. Months after these shows wrap, the happy couples break up and everyone asks why. Because real life is not a helicopter ride! Keep it up though ABC, I will be tuning in.