Self-Esteem

The last time I saw my cousin Kelly, she wasn't dating anyone. She'd been working really hard with school and career, and honestly, she hadn't been taking care of herself. And she said to me, "You know, I don't think I'd WANT to find someone right now, who'd love me like THIS. THIS isn't what I really am, or what I want to be." And I guess, I found that a little strange. I thought that I'd want a guy who had seen me at my worst AND at my best, and loved both.

Now that I work at the store, it really is the lowest point for me career-wise, ever. And yeah, I'm only 25, I guess it could get even worse someday. But seriously, it embarrasses me to have to tell people what I do. And I guess that's my own personal issue. But when you go from, "Oh, I live in Japan and teach English," to "Oh, I work at the store," you are bound to feel a little disappointed by the current state of affairs. Or you are, if you are me.

It's funny though. Kate has the opposite problem. She's embarrassed by being too accomplished. She does everything she can so that people don't immediately know what she does for a job. I mean, it's got to be a crushing blow to the male ego if he can't understand what his potential girlfriend does for a living. I get that, but then again, I'd rather she strove to find a guy that understood what she does and loves her the more for being so intelligent. Too bad I can't want the same, albeit in reverse, for myself.

On Internet Dating

I answered an ad from Craigslist. I was looking at the job listings, and then I looked at the events and such in the area, and then I checked out the personals. And there was a guy who sounded too good to be true. He probably is.

Anyway, I sent a response and a photo. A recent photo where I'm actually wearing make-up and looking pretty good. And he replied. Now what?

So he is moving here soon and wants a girl to go out with, drink some wine, have some food, you know. And for some reason, to me, meeting a guy from the internet for a drink is a way different thing than going out with a random guy you've met at the bar. It's way scarier and it really shouldn't be. I mean there are creeps at the bar and on the internet, and well, everywhere else for that matter. And there are good people too. My brother met his wife on the internet. I've always found that funny, now look at me.

I assume he got some other responses, and maybe in the end he won't even want to meet me. I know what thing, I'll be completely honest the whole way through. What's the use in lying to someone who doesn't know me and I may never meet. I've got nothing to lose.

How TO pick up a 25 year old woman

Alone at the table, with Kate off somewhere, the bartender (45-ish, grey hair, but not terrible) stops at my side.

"I just wanted to say that you and your friend are really beautiful women. I'm the bartender, I'm not trying to hit on you."

And then I said thank you and he walked away. And I sat there smiling to myself.

How NOT to pick up a 25 year old.

Dear drunk middle-aged men:
When you are at a bar, drunk, and you want to talk to a young, attractive woman, do not tell her to "Come here." And when she says, quite rightly, "No." Do not tell her she is mean. She is not mean. If you want to talk to young women you should get up off your bar stool, if you can still stand, and walk over to said woman like gentlemen. And if, after a few minutes, she is being polite but short, maybe you should keep on walking.

Sincerely,
the attractive woman's friend

Big Dreams

We go out most Thursdays for Martinis. Tonight was no exception. And most nights, after one or two, we start to ponder what we should do with our lives. And not only that, but how we'll make our mark on the world. I'm still trying to get through October's Vanity Fair, and in it, they have a listing of the New Establishment, the world's movers and shakers. We are searching for our great idea. The thing that will put Kate and I on the New, New, New Establishment list.

And all we need is the idea. We've got the brains, the determination, the ability. We can get the money. But we need the idea, and without it, we've got very little indeed.

The Friend

I'm feeling a bit under appreciated by the guys in Pittsburgh. Every time Kate and I go out, the only guys that talk to us are old. But then, also, they don't talk to us, they talk to her, and because I happen to be standing there too, me, the friend. Even the 40 year old (or in tonight's case, 60 year old) men don't want to talk to me. What gives?

I can't figure it out, I mean, I'm tall, maybe too tall? Maybe my hair is too dark?

And I know, really, as I told Kate tonight, we need to suck it up and start making a move. We stood in a bar tonight while a nearly 50 man, and a 60+ man chatted us up, meanwhile two guys in their twenties sat at the bar, turning around occasionally to watch the scene. Any guys, if you ever read this, if you ever see something like that happen, go in and break it up, I promise, the girls will thank you for it.

So my self esteem is taking a hit right now. Between the job, my credit card debt, my lack of a social life, and the boy situation, I'm not feeling especially successful. Maybe it shows, and that's why the guys leave me alone. Could be.

Tinsel Town

If it's shady, we can just get a drink and leave.

We were hungry, but as we walked into the Christmas light covered bar, we wondered what would be waiting on the other side of the door. We found out soon enough--more Christmas lights. And, for that matter, Christmas ornaments and wrapping paper and popcorn strings. It was like we were inside the Christmas tree, looking out.

At our table, we sipped our drinks and ate our food and checked out the crowd. While we may have given up on our former downtown bar, we're still single 25 girls, we can't help but look over our options. There weren't any.

In fact, the bar was filled mostly with women. Single women. In their forties. We wondered at the group. We could safely assume that most of the men and women had at one time or another been married. And now, presumably, they were single. And out at the bar on Friday night looking for what exactly? And as we sat there, a thought occurred to Kate: I don't want to be doing this when I'm forty.

It's really the type of thing I did in college, and enjoyed. Go out with the girls, dance, drink, maybe make-out with some guy. Good times. And while Kate never really liked doing those things even when we were young enough to get away with it, I'm going to have to agree with her on one thing: I don't want to be sitting at the bar looking at every man's left hand every Friday night when I'm forty either.

Despite looking into a mirror of "what might come to be," the bar, to be known as Tinsel Town, was an absolute blast, with karaoke and cheap food and drinks. With some friends, it would be absolutely amazing. No pretensions, just twinkle lights and Jonny Cash. If anyone comes to visit, that's where we are going.

Search and Destroy

I'm 25. Sometime in the last few years, grey hair started growing into my lovely dark brown hair. Well, lovely is debatable, but I love being a brunette and always have. I'm pale with blue eyes, but I just know I'd look funny as a blond. But if this grey hair thing continues, I may have to look into going lighter, way lighter. That, or I'm going to need a wig after I pull out all of my hair. What I really need is to be making enough money that I can afford routine hair maintenance.