February 21, 2005
Cue the Olympics theme, Betty, because someone finally gave me a DVD player. Yes, we're stepping into the late '90s here at Dating Amy and I couldn't be more excited. The temperature is in the mid-50s with nary a cloud in the sky and the cherry trees are blooming early, but who gives a damn about the beauty and joy of spring, I was on my way to Blockbuster.
This was a landmark day in my life, because music and movies are the very foundation upon which I've built my career. My first writing gig was for a music trade magazine in Los Angeles and my first staff job was for a startup founded by one of the top movie agents in the country.
I felt a real sense of pride, because for the first time ever the video store was my oyster. Last Christmas I was once again frustrated by the fact that some new movie hadn't even bothered with a video release and the guy behind the counter said "You might want to tell Santa you need a DVD player, let him know they're less than $100 now."
I had finally arrived. I wanted to pick out something monumental, something worthy of my first time. Much like losing my virginity, though, it ended up being an oh-what-the-hell-I'll-just-take-this-one situation and I rented Wimbledon.
I felt so smug and hip walking down the street with my DVD case. Did you know they look just like CDs?
I am so modern!
February 17, 2005
So I was looking for a birthday card for my mom today and did you know they have cards so couples can commemorate the fact that they've totally hit the skids? They have a Troubled Relationship section and that's just at the drugstore.I wish I could turn back the clock
to the time when there wasn't so much pain and mistrust between us...
but I can't, because that defies all sorts of laws of physics,
so have a wonderful day!
When I got home I wanted to see if there were any cards like that online and I found something infinitely sadder: e-cards to send to loved ones with porn addiction.
Far more sensitive and dramatic than the card I picked out for my mother, the porno sympathy cards ask questions such as "Why am I not enough?" and "Can we talk?" Rather than interact face-to-face, cursive writing and a gentle pink rose beseech the loved one you've destroyed with your filthy hobby to: Forgive me for bringing pornography into our lives. Extreme close-ups of flowers, all ripe pistils and erect stamens, add a poignant, ironic touch. One might call it whorticulture.
Like the heartbreaking affliction for which they were designed to lend comfort, the cards are free and easily accessible from the privacy of your office or basement late at night when everyone else is asleep.February 14, 2005
Red. It's the color of wine, roses and valentines. It's the color of Cupid and of Satan.
Red is also the color of happiness and prosperity according to feng shui. Since I could use a hefty does of both, I decided to put some red flowers in my prosperity and relationship areas.
The results were striking, unexpected and all from women.
Funny books, fine china, beaded lamps, gilt-edged mirrors... If the UPS truck pulls up outside I automatically get up to go to the door because they've had a package for me almost every day. As enriched as I feel by the women in my life, my interest in men has dried out more quickly than the tabletop fountain I bought at Bed, Bath and Beyond. Sure, I still go to parties (reluctantly) and give out my number (unenthusiastically), but there's no feeling behind my feelings.
Scientists have discovered that red can have a physical effect. It increases the rate of respiration and heightens alertness. Maybe I should look into getting some crimson body paint, because everything uninspires me lately. The parties, the cute guys, my girlfriends with their complicated vanilla, cinnamon and vodka drinks. Even my Thank Yous to congratulations about my book deal fall flat and lie there on the floor.
I was at a party the other night and the only enthusiasm I mustered all night was the resounding NO! I gave to guys who asked me if I'm dating now. I don't care too much personally, but I do feel a sense of professional embarrassment. I'm part of "dating culture" and this is our big week -- yes, Valentine's Day seems have extended to a week. I should be holding speed-dating events, spewing recycled advice and saying recycled things to the press.
Some cultures view the color red as a symbol of hope. I'm not feeling any myself, so I'm settling for putting red things around my apartment. My friends wanted to go out after the party the other night, but I took the bus home instead. The Sonics crowd had brought traffic to a standstill. I rested my head against the window and looked up at the Space Needle.
It was lit up in red.
February 8, 2005
Happy Chinese New Year. It is the Year of the Cock, or for the more artistic among us, the Year of the Silky, Yet Achingly Hard Missile. Yes, I wrote my first-ever-in-my-life sex scene the other night. Unlike the Web site, I may put sex in the book. I think it's important to give a full, honest account of my love life, plus I want to sell a few copies. Get ready for some undulating manhoods and some fleshy buttons o' love, y'all.
You'll also be aroused to learn that I have updated my Amazon Wishlist for the first time in over two years. I have not yet received my book advance check and I do not have a date for Valentine's Day, but I'm sure it's nothing that a few DVDs or a pink jackhammer couldn't cure.
January 27, 2005
I'm back from the Seventh Circle of Dell and the fine techs over there were nice enough to give me a brand new keyboard and thingy that you rest your hands on in front of the keyboard. I love that first week with a new computer before you get coffee and Cool Ranch Dorito crumbs in it.
Anyway, I'm so glad to be back that I thought I'd try a new feature that includes you, you and you. The way it works is that you'll send me your dating questions and I'll answer on the site. I'll strip out all of your personal info before I put it up, so don't worry about that. If you think it would be too mortifying to have your emotional life all raw and naked on the Internet, then you could just send in a humiliating problem that you've observed one of your co-workers having. Hey, my dash key works again!
January 14, 2005
For the first time in over two years and three months, I do not have my dating life plastered all over the Internet.
I celebrated by going to a party.
I've been wanting to take the 50 Dates down lately, because frankly I thought they were interfering with my love life. Apparently my problems go much, much deeper, though.
"You're too conservative to date in Seattle," said my friend Earl after I asked if he had any single friends he could set me up with. "You're too introspective, too."
Dude, a simple No, None Of My Friends Are Right For You, or better the lie If I Can Think Of Someone, I'll Get Back To You would suffice.
When you're a writer it's important to fact-check. I immediately did so by asking for input on my character from a British guy and his friend, two men who had known me for approximately four minutes.
"Too conservative, you?" said the friend. "You're not even wearing a top, just lingerie."
To be fair, I was wearing a seafoam-green cashmere sweater with white beads around the collar, but yeah, it was being held onto my body by one feeble button at my waist and I was wearing a black camisole I bought in the lingerie department under it.
"And your sense of humor is certainly blunt, not at all conservative that I can see," said the British guy.
Great. Being dubbed "blunt" by someone from Yorkshire, where foreplay supposedly consists of the man saying "Brace yourself, dear."
"Besides, a conservative girl wouldn't write about dating 50 men on the Internet."
"It was 50 dates and 22 men, actually," I said.
"Good lord," said the British guy. "What were the other 28?"
January 11, 2005
I have to admit I'm putting way too much thought into the Brad Pitt-Jennifer Aniston breakup. I see I'm not alone, though. Everyone from Reuters to the Malaysia Star has been trumpeting the news of the superstar couple's uncoupling since the pair went to People magazine with it on Friday. I predicted that when the entertainment weeklies came out there'd be more tousled blond hair on the newsstands than the week Cobain died. Naïve of me to think the tabloids would wait a week. People's staff worked all weekend and put out a special issue today.
More interesting to me than the breakup of some Hollywood golden couple (let's face it, it's laughable that some publications are saying they predicted a Pitts split years ago: even with regular folk you have a one in two chance of being right about a relationship's demise, in Tinseltown your odds are more like seven in eight and increase exponentially if both are in the spotlight. I'd put my money on Rob Lowe and his makeup-girl wife any day) are the bigger issues it seems to be dragging up for people. Issues like being a mom vs. having a career. Are agreements made during the flush of engagement about things like children engraved in stone after you're married? What if you change your mind? Is it okay for your husband to work with someone who looks like Angelina Jolie, that body, those eyes? Is it okay if he kisses her down-pillow lips at work? Would you pack him a lunch that day? What if she wants a vial of his blood?
In July of 2000, People magazine did a different sort of cover story about Aniston and Pitt -- the one featuring the black and white photo taken at their wedding. The article said their vows included Pitt pledging to "split the difference on the thermostat." Aniston, tearing up a bit, promised to always make his "favorite banana milkshake."
The night they got married I was on a date with a good-looking Scottish tabloid reporter. We were at a trendy, polished alehouse in Santa Monica and he was describing an organized network of paparazzi that makes al-Qaeda look like fumbling slackers.
"There's so much security around Brad Pitt's wedding. They're trying so hard to keep it a secret from us, but they can't. We have too many people on it. He claims it's happening this weekend, but we know that's just a red herring to throw us off."
The next morning it was announced that Brad Pitt had married Jennifer Aniston the night before. I felt happy for them that they got their wedding in relative peace. I didn't date the reporter after that.
I think the breakup is sad, not because they were some big, glossy Hollywood power couple, but because I believe they were pot-smoking, shaggy hippies who were good friends disguised as a big, glossy Hollywood power couple.
They each made $25 million last year, so money is easy. It's hard to find someone who'll make you banana milkshakes, though.
January 10, 2005
So my book announcement came out in Publishers Marketplace last week. I signed with Warner Books and Dating Amy: 50 True Confessions of a Serial Dater will be out in the spring of 2006. In other news, I'm feng shui-ing my apartment. I don't think it really "took" the first time I did it.
December 23, 2004
I'm taking a bit of an egg nog break and probably won't be around until after New Year's. Have a good one, mistletoe!
December 17, 2004
Cognitive therapists are suddenly in vogue and one of their big no-nos is fortune telling. Apparently it is mentally unhealthy, not to mention destructive, to predict the future, especially regarding things like relationships. Their argument is that since you don't really know what's going to happen in the future, there's no sense in getting yourself worked up and depressed over it.
I guess since they have PhDs they feel that we commoners can just wait to see if the other shoe actually hits the floor instead of us trying to predict whether or not it will be affected by gravity when it's being flung off in the foolishness of passion.
Not being a cognitive therapist myself, I don't like to leave much of the future up to chance. I'm also one-quarter Romanian, which to me means gypsy, which to me means I can find the answers to all of life's questions through fortune-telling.
My friend Anastasia has identified the gift I've inherited through my gypsy blood: I'm able to predict the present. For instance, I can walk into a party and tell which two people are meant to be together and they'll invariably say "Great! We already are together."
And just today I was at a funky, independent video store that told me the popcorn is free with your video. I predicted that they would have better luck if they actually popped the popcorn and gave it to people when they rented. The somewhat perplexed clerk asked me if I wanted extra salt and butter flavoring as she handed me a bag along with my VHS of Bell, Book and Candle. Apparently my prediction was what that movie-theater smell was.
Anyway, I'm sure I have some sort of gift.
It was a late November morning at Pike Market. The fish vendors were unloading their trucks of gray and orange salmon; the flower sellers were wrapping bouquets of brown and yellow and red to match the dark, vivid tones of late autumn.
"Knight of Swords, Ace of Wands and The Tower. A man swept you off your feet, broke your heart and left without so much as a backward glance," said the tarot card reader I had given $5 to.
I'm a woman over 35. Tell me something the homeless guys outside the liquor store don't say every time I walk past.
I never like to help fortune-tellers with their predictions, so I keep a pokerface and don't say a word.
"I see many romantic relationships around you. It's something to do with dating online or some kind of dating service. Are you running an online dating service? It's confusing. The cards also say that you'll be getting some sort of settlement or advance regarding your love life in December. Are you getting divorced?"
I didn't help her. The cognitive therapists are probably right. Fortune telling is unhealthy. Besides, the things they predict are so generic… they could apply to anyone.
December 16, 2004
If you have written to one of my private email accounts in the past few months (like if you know me in real life), I closed most of them but it doesn't tell you that when you email, so I probably didn't get it. The web site email is a safe bet for now. I also haven't had time to answer Dating Amy email for quite a while, so I'll field some common questions here...
No, I am not rich now that I have a book deal
No, I don't think your boyfriend is cheating on you, he's probaby just acting weird because he feels pressure about the holidays (applies if you've been dating more than let's say three months to a year but not more than a year and a half in which case he may be cheating)
No, you cannot take material from Dating Amy and put it on your web site; it's copyrighted and finally...
No, I did not know Kurt Cobain.
December 10, 2004
I finally got a book deal! I'll give more info when the ink is dry. And my tears are dry.
December 7, 2004
Even the most fumbling Seattle guy can't usually ruin a fantastic evening with less than two minutes to go, but then I've never dated a Seahawk.
If you didn't see Seattle vs. Dallas on Monday Night football last night, you missed a great game. Seahawks closed a 15-point Dallas lead and then managed to lose it in the last 1:45. Dallas got their winning touchdown with only 32 seconds to go and the Cowboys beat the Seahawks 43-39.
Sports Illustrated described the Seahawks as "crumbing helplessly" and they described themselves as "immature." And that's big, tough football players. Do you see why I love the men here?
I was looking for a photo of the Seahawks that didn't show them missing a pass or one of the quarterback not getting sacked, but couldn't find any.
"So what are you doing later?"
November 24, 2004
At various times in the past two weeks I could be found:
At a party dodging a guy I dated last summer. The party was packed, so it wasn't like I could dart away like a tiny minnow, a flash of light and then gone. I was more like an elephant in a molasses river or a dream in slow motion. Clearly he had also seen me; he was sleep-running in the other direction.
At a karaoke bar drinking gin and tonics as big as my head with a guy who's on the radio here. We smoked a whole pack of cigarettes we borrowed from a table of very nice blonde girls and watched some chick do "Like a Virgin," bouncing off waiters as they came out of the nearby kitchen like she was a pinball. I don't normally smoke, but am thinking of starting as I've heard good things.
Washing down hot, hot Mexican-style prawns with cold wine and getting a complete rundown on trends in the private shaving habits of men from a girlfriend. As she and the cocktail waitress discussed the relative merits of waxing versus just trimming, my mind turned to another kind of giblets -- and whether or not to put them in the Thanksgiving stuffing.
I've realized that I am an apple-cheeked granny trapped inside the body of a party girl. I may reek like an ashtray in the break room of a distillery when I get home, but the scent of cinnamon and vanilla is just dying to get out.
November 3, 2004
7:03 am -- Wow. So the most predictable thing about the presidential election was that we don't have a winner yet... anyway, if Tumbleweed does win, it's hardly a mandate, so neener.
Noon -- Well I guess if Kerry can face it I have to. I've been trying to look at some positive things about having four more years of Bush. Here's what I came up with:
1. Bush easier and more satisfying to mock than Kerry.
2. Bush twins sometimes make cute fashion choices when they appear with their father (e.g. Jenna's lime green pumps last night).
3. Get to feel superior to (well, continue to feel superior to) 51% of the country.
November 1, 2004
September 20, 2004
Here are the results of my reader's poll if you care (or if ya don't):
The majority of you are between the ages of 23 to 45. You are 60 percent men, 40 percent women; 63 percent are single, 37 percent are married (and presumably living vicariously). An overwhelming majority are college-educated white-collar professionals with lots of disposable income.
September 13, 2003
I'm still busting my butt writing this proposal, and I'm only making time for the basics: grocery shopping, Six Feet Under, and one ill-advised wild night last weekend that I guess I'll get to later (at one point I found myself dancing on stage and it's not really the kind of bar where people do that. Also, when did spanking become an acceptable way to greet strangers?).
Anyway, I was doing my laundry Friday afternoon and the clothes in one dryer were bone-brittle, so I took them out and put them in my wicker basket rather than throw them on the folding table. I came back down an hour later to take my clothes out of the dryer and my laundry basket was gone. The owner of the clothes before me took my basket with their clothes. I figured they were just borrowing it since there was no other basket there before, but I checked back later that evening and it was still missing.
I didn't want to write about this on 9/11 because it seemed disrespectful since it was only a material object, but I was so upset. I mean what the? What kind of person steals a laundry basket? It had to be someone in my building because you need a key. And it wasn't the principle of it, it was the actual cost of the laundry basket. It was one of those nice ones from Bed, Bath and Beyond.
Anyway, I couldn't accept that it was gone so on my way out to the grocery store last night I checked for it again and it was there. I guess dreams really do come true.
September 8, 2004
Thanks to those of you who sent stats (scroll down to see what I need). Keep them coming! You all have esoteric reading tastes -- many authors I've never heard of. I especially appreciated the chick who listed me and David from the Bible as her favorite writers. I can't believe not one person has suggested a title for my book, though. Stop working and get on this, please!
September 2, 2004
Any cute ideas for a name for the book? I was thinking DatingAmy.com: 50 Dates and a Dial-up, but I don't want it to sound too... dated in a few years. And, yes, I know that dial-ups are dated now, but I have one because I'm poor.
September 1, 2004
Woo. The site's going to be two-years-old in a month. Can I ask a favor? First of all, can you email me (emaildatingamy at yahoo) and give me your stats stat? You can cut and paste from here:
Gender:
Age:
Marital Status:
Occupation:
Favorite Authors:
I don't need to hear about your boring problems at work or any sexual perversions... unless they're interesting. Use your judgment. Also if your whole office reads my site but say you're the only one who can read and write, could you throw in their info too? When you do a book proposal they want you to have all this information. It's almost like work or something.
August 28, 2004
Hiya. I'm ecstatic to announce that I am now officially someone else's problem. No, I did not get married, I signed with a literary agent. Of course now my dates will be half as long since I won't have my standard two-hour rant about how unacknowledged I am as an artist, how every other web site but mine has a great agent, how I can't even be hired to write the little signs they have promoting cheeses at the specialty food store ("You'll say Gru-yay! when you melt this on some macaroni"), etc.
I'll be doing a national appearance on Kurt the Cyberguy's syndicated feature on Fox and the WB morning news at around 8:15 a.m. on Monday August 30. It will be seen in 155 cities, including on KTLA 5 in Los Angeles, WPIX 11 in NYC and WGN 9 in Chicago. In honor of the Republican convention I will be tap dancing a musical tribute that I wrote for the president entitled "That Naughty Little Dubya, Oh How I Loves Me a Texas Man."
August 16, 2004
Happy Monday, you. Although every day is Tuesday when you're unemployed.
Sometimes I have no ideas and sometimes I have so many ideas that instead of doing any actual writing I resort to bullet points (and name-calling, but that's a whole other thing that I don't care to get into).
Here are some things I was thinking about today:
1. Writers should be subsidized by the government. Good writers are usually intimidatingly smart, ridiculous imaginative and cannot be confined by such earthbound things as schedules, societal boundaries and rent. By definition we cannot handle our own business lives, so should therefore be paid to just, you know, be. At my former company, some of the contractors would make elaborate plans to sue the corporation for perceived unfairness to writers. Unfortunately they hatched their plot by company-monitored email. They were frequently called into the boss' office to be questioned about unionization, time management and of course porn downloading. Who could imagine that some thing so innocent could go awry? Oh, that's right, anyone. Do you see the need for subsidies?
August 10, 2004
What a dismal showing over here. Only one entry for July -- and an embarrassing one at that -- and nothing to say in August apparently. I'm still seeing... well, I don't know how many guys I'm still seeing because people keep resurfacing. One of them left a message last night and his date idea was that we could go to a park this evening and read books. The hell? I should go just to see what he's talking about. The weird thing is I don't think "read books" is a euphemism.<<< home >>>
