October 30, 2002
Spent the day at Pike Place Market doing reviews of shops for a client. (See, I am not just some layabout asking you for cash, but am occasionally even out working.) My adopted city Seattle is an absolute knockout and the people are unbelievably nice. Pike Market is the heart of town in more than one way and is a real market that locals go to, not just some tourist trap. Fruit and vegetable sellers and fishmongers call out to passersby; flower sellers wrap up gorgeous bouquets for $8. I talked to a man at a glass store who explained to me the intricacy of creating glass art -- there were translucent jellyfish of glass in paperweights that were astounding. Learning about new things like that is one of things I love about being a writer. Regardless of your age or station in life, I recommend finding a career that pleases your soul (of course be able to pay off your credit cards, too, but that goes without saying). I sat on the benches by the water and had a chicken gyro sandwich (a woman walking by pointed out that I had tzatziki on my nose) and a cookie shaped as a witch for dessert. I didn't meet any men.
October 24, 2002
I was downtown and it was 5 p.m., otherwise known as cocktail time, so I popped into my favorite expensive restaurant with a dirt-cheap happy hour. Meeting men there is like shooting well-heeled fish in a barrel. The place was crowded with sleek women and men in suits. Two men at the bar were waiting for a friend but gave me his seat. I ordered a chardonnay and the prawns for $1.50 and three small roast beef sandwiches with mayo, horseradish and au jus for $1.50. The men who sat next to me are working on a big, politically charged Seattle project. One of them, the one in the suit, talked to me a lot -- about big business' accounting practices, Nixon, local Seattle politics. He bought me another glass of wine. His friend, the one in the brown bomber jacket, struck up a conversation with me when the third friend arrived. I liked him better. We talked about West Coast cities, which I love, and wine tours, which as we know is a very winning topic with me. They both gave me their numbers. I will probably call both. Before I was doing this website, I would have thrown away a man's card, figuring if he were really interested, he would ask for my number. I can't very well do that now.
October 21, 2002
I was on my way to check my (empty, thank you) P.O. Box downtown when I ran into the German opera singer from the Italian festival a few weeks ago. He had invited me on a hangout-type date which I declined the last time I heard from him -- he didn't mention it when I saw him. I told him I saw going shopping for winter boots and he said he was going to the same store later and would see me there. Of course he didn't show.
October 17, 2002
I was starving like always and had just cashed a freelance check, so I decided to take myself out to dinner. I went to a noisy pseudo-Mexican bar that has surprisingly good food and hundreds of candles lining the walls. I had corn chowder that was full of tender, fat shrimp and red bell peppers. The salsa had just the right amount of cilantro. Though this bar has a "singles" reputation, there were lots of couples there and come to think of it, I've been on about four dates there myself. Then I went to a different, nicer bar to collect the drink that Steve from NYC put on his tab for me when I first started the site two weeks ago. His friend Brian (my contact) was working, and he made me a nice gin martini with three olives in a frosted blue glass. A really cute blond guy recovering from a broken nose sat next to me and talked a lot about the landscape of the Eastside and didn't even ask for my url. Time waster! There was some talk of the bar sponsoring DatingAmy, but I'm not sure how that would work. I wouldn't have to pay for food and drinks on my dates if I came there, but I don't pay for food and drinks on my dates anyway, so it's little incentive.
October 13, 2002
Today I went to a place I've dreamed of going for years. A place that's inexorably linked to the consciousness of pop culture. I went to the lodge, the falls and the diner from Twin Peaks. When you first get to the lodge, you can't see any sign of the falls, but I had waited this long and was patient. I was so excited to be there, the hostess assumed I was from out of town. My girlfriend and I snared a table near the window. The hotel is very fancy -- my coffee came with unsweetened whipped cream and chocolate and nut bits that I didn't try. I asked for catsup for my hash browns and they gave me own little bottle, like the little liquor bottles on planes. My friend ordered a big-ass Bloody Mary. You know how sometimes you get a $17 omelet and you're totally paying for the location? This omelet was actually worth $17. I wasn't paying for it, but still. We later walked to where the view is and it was so cool. Just really beautiful. I of course then wanted to see the diner where Kyle MacLachlan used to get his cuppa Joe, so we went there too. It was okay -- the actual diner burned down due to arson in 2000, so I didn't even recognize it, but they really play up the cherry pie angle there -- it's even on the waitresses' T-shirts. My friend then surprised me by taking me to a winery -- Chateau St. Michelle. We did their tasting (Merlot Madness!) and I offered to treat, but they didn't have time to process my credit card, so it was on the house. Totally fun day. I love hanging out with my girlfriends.
October 12, 2002
Indentured Cats gave me four CDs: the first one by the Stray Cats, the Blade Runner soundtrack and two others. It reinforced my suspicion that though he does seem to like me, he really does not have a clue who I am. I like any music as long as it has strong pop songwriting. I like Beatles, Elvis Costello, Replacements and Big Star (used to be a music critic and it's in the handbook that we love these bands.) I like ear candy like Monkees, Rick Springfield, ABBA and Shonen Knife (used to be a teenybopper and it's in the handbook that we love these bands). When Paul Westerberg from the Replacements was here last spring I saw him play at a record store. He forgot words, missed guitar licks and was just brilliant. I hung out with him for a bit after the show. We clicked because we're both from Minneapolis. I don't feel I'm clicking with Indentured. I don't think he gets me, or at least doesn't get my taste in music.
October 9, 2002
I just want to say that I've had a lot of weird emails about my site, most of which are focusing on my pictures. People do not like my pictures. I am hearing that I am not showing enough cleavage. That my skin isn't nice enough. (My skin is like porcelain, it's the pictures from the digital camera that I once borrowed from work that are grainy.) I'm getting emails saying that I'm too sexy, not sexy enough and who do I think I am, Marcia Brady? I'm tired of hearing it, frankly. I don't really feel like sharing my daily Flirt today since I'm kind of mad at some of you. I'm pretty sure some guy I met at the grocery store is going to ask me out and I have date #2 tomorrow night.
October 8, 2002
I went out with a girlfriend tonight. We had wine and ahi tuna appetizers at a seaside bar and then continued on to another bar. It was at the second bar, sitting near the fireplace, that the most upsetting event in the entire eight-day history of Dating Amy occurred. My friend steeled herself with a swig of merlot. She had read my website. She confessed that the German Opera Guy from the Italian festival who I met a week ago had also approached her and taken her number a few months ago. Does anyone else find this disturbing? What are the chances that some random guy who approached me from out of the blue would also randomly approach one of my single friends? Does this guy just randomly approach single women? Perhaps my friend and I should try to pull off some sort of hilarious Three's Company type scenario where we both show up for a date with him at the same time.
October 6, 2002
I have always wanted to be a singer. It's my #1 dream, really, but I'll let you in on a secret that audiences/guys who've worked with me in the studio already know: I'm not that good. I went to a piano bar by myself last night. There was charming man with several friends at the next table who was trying to get me to sing (I didn't the whole time he was there). He gave me a red rose, and when he left he had written me a long note on the back of his business card that when I do want to sing somewhere he and his friends would love to come support me. I thought it was unbelievably sweet.
Right on the heels of that, a hip-looking guy came in and asked if he could join me. I said sure and then he insisted on buying me a glass of wine, which I declined, surprisingly. He was very interesting... a musician, of course. Musicians can spot me at 100 yards. He gave me his card and invited me to see him play sometime. We had a lot in common, but I tell ya, I find musicians fascinating, but lots of trouble.
I basically waited until everyone left to sing. It was so much harder than it looks. Even harder to sound good, I suspect. I'm used to singing where you know what the band is going to do and you've practiced a lot. This was more like winging it. After four of my Cole Porter renditions, the paino player went to go have a cigarette and never came back.
September 28, 2002
There was an Italian festival going on, so I thought I would go try to get a date with a gorgeous Italian. I've been to Rome and remembered the Adonis-like men fondly. At the festival I was watching some traditional dancing by an older couple. It was nice to see. I think Europeans respect the older generation more than we do in this county. A man came up to me and started talking about the dancers and then introduced himself. He was from Germany, not Italy -- country is close, but no cannelloni. He is an opera singer and works at Pike Place Market for his day job. My heart soared for a second as I thought he may be one of the Throwing Fish Guys. I have a thing for them. Plus I want to say I've dated a fishmonger. It turns out the German opera guy isn't a fishmonger, but I gave him my e-mail anyway. I have my new career to think about.home >>>
