Showing posts with label google stalking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label google stalking. Show all posts

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Lesson #492: Take Notes.

Shit. So here's the problem. In the midst of google-stalking Delaware tonight (hey, we have a date in four days... a girl's gotta be prepared), I realized that even after the six hours that we spent talking (okay and not talking) last weekend, I can't remember much about what we talked about. I made a point to remember his last name for aforementioned google-stalking purposes, but other than that... And to be honest, it's not really even that I don't remember, per se, it's more that I can't figure out what bits of information actually belong to Delaware, and not any of the other Dates of Recent Past...

Okay, wait, I remember his birthday is coming up next month, okay so that makes it in April. Right. Is it the twenty... No, not the 22nd. Oh, I know! I told him that it was his Golden Birthday this year, and I know he is 27 right now, so that means he'll be 28, so okay April 28, got that down. And then the siblings... I think that he said the older brother still lives at home, but wait- no, I think that was Midwestern Boy. So okay, I think his older brother lives back near his hometown though in Delaware. And I think he's married? Delaware's brother, not Delaware. Oy shit. And he has a sister, a sister...what was it that he told me about the sister? Did she live in Vermont? Ugh, no I think that was The Principal. In fact, I know it was The Principal. And The Principal got a little offended when I didn't recall that detail on that glorious first date of ours. Okay, forget The Principal. I think that when Delaware mentioned where his sister lived, I remembered thinking that all three kids had stayed in the Mid-Atlantic and New England regions, and that his parents must appreciate that. So maybe she lives in Boston? Or crap, maybe Philadelphia? Ohhhkay, now I'm starting to wonder if I made this sister up. No, no, there is a sister. Because he's the youngest of three. So then if he's 27, almost 28, and he's the youngest, then he might have mentioned nieces or nephews. If he did, well, sorry Charlie, I am a total shit for brains apparently. And the worst part is that I wasn't totally drunk, so what's my excuse when I ask him again if he's an only child and what state he hails from? "Oh, I'm sorry, Delaware. I just am such a frequenter of Match.com and meeting random men in bars that I can't keep all you boys straight." Now that would go over fantastically, I'm sure.

Obviously, I'm getting no where with this, and really, really for the sake of my beauty sleep and making sure that I wake up with my alarm clock in the morning (6 hours and counting), I need to get my stalker butt off the computer, stop letting myself think so hard (one would assume that keeping a written record of the details of all of these dates would help jog one's memory, but no), and try to close my eyes and not dream of anything man related.

Ha... tough luck. But here's to trying...

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Lessons from the Battlefield

Lessons from the Battlefield this Week – Read and Learn.

1) Be wary of talking to a guy who sits at the bar the whole three hours you are there. It’s entirely possible that you will talk all night, do lots of shots, make out, then get up and leave to go to the next bar – and find out he is 5’5”.

2) Men in their 30s can still have 5 minute sex. And I’m talking in the bed, not an airplane bathroom. I’d still like someone to explain this to me, please, because I am pretty sure this was supposed to end somewhere around 19.

3) Doing sketchy things in sketchy places is even more fun than you think it’s going to be. I’m just saying. Do it. Life is too short for inhibitions.

4) Be careful when Google stalking someone who you met a few shots in. You may become convinced that you found him, get thoroughly freaked out when you think he is a wannabe vampire…and 2 days later, discover that you have Google stalked the wrong person entirely.

5) Run, do not walk, away from a man who sees that you have a Brazilian and asks you “why you do that.” It’s not a good sign of what’s to come.

6) Your doorman will probably not respect you in the morning.