December 30, 2002
Since the year is coming to an end, I wanted to make one last effort to see if any of my Mr. Potentials could become one of my Mr. Dates.
First I went to the wine bistro where Buddy Holly Glasses works. It's such a cozy place -- like being in the living room of a friend with great taste. They were playing the excellent CD David Bowie at the BBC. I got a 1996 French cab-merlot from my waitress and a "Have a nice New Year" from Buddy Holly. It felt definitive; he's not going to ask me out.
Undaunted, I continued on and accidentally on purpose ran into Christmas Tree Guy. It was so great to see him. I filled him in on my Christmas (he asked about how the tree he set up is doing) and I told him about my birthday. I was pleased to find out he's older than I thought (he's 30). He hinted around about getting together.
I have two other men I'm curious about, but didn't have time to accidentally run into either of them as I had planned.
***
I don't give much dating advice, but I have to say: If I had a dollar for every time I heard a woman complain that no one ever approaches her when to me she's clearly giving off stay-away-from-me vibes, I wouldn't need to have a begging website.
Ladies: Put down the cell phones and Palm Pilots when you're out doing errands or sipping a latte at Starbucks! Looking approachable is 10 times more important than being beautiful. Men can be insensitive louts for sure, but their potential-rejection radar is finely tuned. Even if they're very attracted to you, there's no way in hell they're going to approach if you look preoccupied and busy.
December 28, 2002
A friend and I went to see About Schmidt last night. Jack Nicholson plays Schmidt, a 66-year-old insurance executive who finds himself emotionally unprepared for his recent retirement. The first few scenes briefly sketch his relationship with his figurine-collecting wife of 43 years. It says something about Hollywood that it's jarring to see Nicholson play opposite a woman his own age.
He was great in this role, mostly because he didn't do his usual mugging. I don't know if I've ever seen Jack Nicholson not play Jack Nicholson before?
Hope Davis (Next Stop Wonderland) plays his daughter, set to marry her boyfriend, played by Dermot Mulroney (My Best Friend's Wedding). Davis is always good and I liked Mulroney's character, though it took me a while to recognize him with a beard and mullet. They kept referring to him as a loser in the film, but he didn't seem that bad to me. Sure, he was a waterbed salesman with a pyramid scheme going, but he did really adore the Davis character and seemed like a sensitive sort. Maybe my standards are too low, but even with a bad hairdo, he's still Dermot Mulroney. Kathy Bates plays his effervescent, moody mom. She is nude in one scene, but I think they did that for shock value. This movie has been criticized for putting down its own characters and then expecting you to feel sympathy for them later. Indeed, the most poignant character in the whole film is one who never appears on screen -- Ndugu, the 6-year-old orphan who Schmidt adopts through a television commercial.
December 23-26, 2002
Well I don't want to bore everyone with my Christmas, but I will give some highlights.
My mom flew into town and on Christmas Eve we had lunch at my favorite restaurant in Seattle (again) as a belated birthday celebration, and the chef was there wishing his staff well. He is one of the only chefs I'd be able to recognize. I guess you're not much of a cook if you're not on TV a lot. I had clam chowder, Caesar salad and a great pinot gris from Oregon.
That night I had a cocktail/dinner party at my house and served ham with hot/sweet mustard sauce, guacamole and chips, brie and other cheeses, French bread and spinach dip and chardonnay, with éclairs and egg nog for dessert. So much fun. My uncle told me that men were always handing my mom the line "I'll take you to Hollywood and make you a movie star." I had no idea, although she was quite beautiful. (I look nothing like her.)
That night, we were hanging out at my house and my mom had never seen Sex and the City, so we watched a few episodes. I never realized how many sexual references there are or how much they say fuck before. She thought it was very funny, but a bit "like porno."
December 22, 2002
Went out with a girlfriend for pre-Christmas eggnog lattes today. She didn't know about the site. Being single and thirtysomething, she was intrigued when I told her about it.
She saw a snowboarderesque guy in the corner whom she found very attractive. She wanted me to go over and tell him I have a dating website and ask him questions so she could meet him. (In the scenario she concocted in her head, I would somehow have a list of 10 questions typed out on a piece of paper.) The reality is that I'm actually quite shy with men I don't know and would never have the guts to approach a total stranger at a coffee shop, especially with some made-up list of dating questions.
I told her that lately I've been subject to a new phenomenon: the First-Date Breakup. This is where you go on one date with a guy, you don't really click, yet he calls a day or a week later to tell you "I don't want to take away from what we've had together, but this just isn't working out for me." Or even, "I've met someone else." Do I really need to hear this after a two-hour dinner date? Just when I'm feeling guilty about having a 50-dates website…
Anyway, now you know what happened to Writing for the Enemy and Monastery Man.
December 20, 2002
Tonight I went out for a birthday dinner at my very favorite restaurant in Seattle. It is down by the Market with a bit of a view of the water. The lights are orange art glass and the coat hangers at each table are shaped like fish skeletons. My friend and I had chardonnay and pink grilled salmon with butter-braised kale and corn pudding. The fish was outstanding. I guess I am becoming a true Pacific Northwesterner, as the smoky taste of salmon reminds me of home now.
We stopped at the video store on the way home and rented my secret favorite movie, The Last Supper. It's about a houseful of grad students who are so politically left that they start inviting right-wing people to dinner with the intent of poisoning them. Charles Durning, Mark Harmon and George from Seinfeld all play dinner guests. Cameron Diaz is one of the grad students, but wasn't famous enough to get top billing yet.
The guy at Blockbuster commented that it's such a great film. I told him that I rent it so much I should just buy it. He told me it's out of print, but that if I "forget" to return it, I would only be charged $15. I could never do that, though.
December 16, 2002
I did my first talk show today. It was live, not taped and it was nerve-wracking. I was on Northwest Afternoon, which is local to Seattle.
Penny from helpmeleavemyhusband recommended me for the show. She is an absolute doll and it was so much fun to meet her. I hung out in the green room with the producer. I hung out backstage (if you don't mind) with the host, Elisa. It went really well.
The globetrotting guy from letmestayforaday and the sendmeadollar guy who reviews other begging sites were on the phone.
The pace of live TV is so fast. I have no idea what his job title is, but there was a guy who was giving cues like an air traffic controller to the host the whole time. Also, someone ran up to her during a commercial break and said the whole next segment needed to be scrapped as they couldn't get the phones to work. Elisa was so cool, though -- I was sitting right there and I couldn't tell there was an unexpected problem. The hour flew by.
For some reason there was a low murmur from the audience when I said I can't say enough good things about Seattle men. I sense some dissent.
During breaks I requested more water (didn't want them to think I was inexperienced at being at budding star) and chatted with the host during commercials -- she said it's fun being a talk show host.
After we were whisked offstage, Penny and I went to grab a bite on Lake Union. I had a burger with mushrooms and Swiss, plus fries. Penny had a chicken quesadilla. The hostess who seated us was one of the audience members who asked me a question. She didn't say anything about the show to us, though.December 8, 2002
Roger, the Fab One
I've been doing a rock & roll tour of the world for years. I've been to Jim Morrison's grave in Paris, Bob Dylan's hometown in Minnesota and Strawberry Fields and Penny Lane in Liverpool. You always forget your own city, though. Today I remembered and went to the hotel where the Beatles fished out their window in 1964.
The front desk woman called a nice guy named Roger to show me room 272. When I entered the room, my suspicions were immediately raised and soon confirmed by Roger: There's no way the whole band stayed in this room. For one thing, the four of them would have had to share a bed. Roger estimated that perhaps two of them stayed here, since the wall used to be knocked out, which would make the suite the size of two rooms, and then the other two slept elsewhere. Great view of the water, though.
The room is stocked with Beatles CDs and an anthology with pictures. The old carpet had long since been pulled up, cut into one-inch squares and sold to rabid fans.
December 6, 2002
I went to a holiday street fair tonight. All the businesses up and down the block were serving free food and drink. The travel agency was doing a not-too-Christmas-y Hawaii promotion and had homemade chocolate-chip macadamia-nut cookies and gave me a lei made of shells. The sweet old lady who made the cookies told us we could put our addressed on a mailing list for the recipe, but I suspect I will also end up with lots of travel brochures in my mailbox soon. Old people and kids are always working their cuteness, have you noticed? There was a campy brass band. The female trombone player was dressed as a Christmas tree in a green skirt that was trimmed and a star on her hat. I had chardonnay in a Dixie cup, spiced hot apple cider and my first-ever chestnut roasting on an open fire -- it tasted like a yam. I listened to a street gospel choir -- the five guys were really good. I saw a caroling group in Dickens-like costumes. Believe it or not, I was a professional Christmas caroler one year. The money is great, but the work season is short. A church had decorated a huge pine tree growing in its yard with Christmas lights and a star on top. It was beautiful.
December 1, 2002
I've always heard that church is a great place to meet men, so today I went to the cathedral. I don't have tons of experience with other religions, but I swear, no one does formal religious ceremony like we Catholics.
The cathedral is gorgeous -- high, domed ceilings, elaborate stained glass, ornate gold leaf, a huge pipe organ built into the wall. The priest came out bedecked in purple robes, amid bells ringing like chimes, incense and candles everywhere. I'm sure lots of religions use cut crystal and real silver in their ceremonies, but in the Catholic Church, everything is like that.
Like anyone focused mostly on appearances, the Church has swept a lot of its problems under the rug -- I've been hearing jokes about priests and altar boys since I was in grade school. Will be interesting to see how the Vatican deals with this issue over time.
The priest told a story of three teenaged boys trapped in an avalanche at Mount Hood for 15 days who had only a pancake batter to eat and a Bible to read. He said they talked about their favorite sections after they were rescued. All I could think was "They were of a mind to do a book critique in that situation?"
The mass was quite traditional. Our hymn responses were all in Latin. I was trying to think of representations of the Catholic Church that aren't either in horror films or political dramas, to discern what the average non-Catholic knows of the religion.
I went to the coffee hour afterwards. Being Seattle, the coffee was actually quite good, although the cream was powdered. In a flash of hipness, they served Krispy Kremes, and a show of solidarity to the avalanche boys I only had one.<<< home >>>
