Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks

An Open Letter to Myself on the Occasion of Halloween

Dear S,


Please do not act like a tramp tonight. Just because it is Halloween and you have a cute new silky camisole and sexy new pointy boots does not mean that you need to act like a common streetwalker.
Sure, it seems like a good idea to get all dressed up and go out and act silly because it's Halloween and you can get away with it. But have we learned nothing from events of Halloweens past? The show disasters, the costume malfunctions, the hangovers from hell ...


Take last Halloween, for example. Was there any reason to drink all of that vodka? Also, the boy? Was that necessary? I think not!


You are an adult now and I think it is high time that you stopped carrying on like a trollop on Halloween, just because it is socially acceptable to dress a touch sluttier than normal under the guise of being "in costume." (Because, really, it is high time that you stopped using Halloween as an excuse to buy a new outfit that you can "costume up" with random animal ears or a witches hat.)


Also, you should really not wear the devil tail you purchased to go with the devil ears you purchased to match your sexy red shirt (a.k.a. "Devil Costume"). You know that wearing a tail on Halloween is merely a ploy to get people to pay attention to your ass. So predictable! So cheesy! So blech!


And shots? Are you 21? Grow up!


Just a little pre-emptive damage control.





Psyching myself out

I talked to the Relief Worker last night. He's getting settled into his new digs a few hours from here. It was nice to hear from him, as we'd been playing a bit of phone tag.


We only talked for a little while. The conversations we have fit the same structure:


Say hello and flirt.

Relief Worker compliments S.

S blushes and says thanks.

Flirt some more.

Update on S's day at work.


Update on the Relief Worker's Day at work.


Relief Worker compliments S again.

S blushes.

Cell phone cuts out.

Relief Worker says he'd like to see S again.

S affirms that she would like that.


Awkward pause.

Flirt and say goodbye.


We're not having hour-long conversations. We have a lot to say when we hang out, but I feel slightly awkward on the phone. It's just odd.


Best Friend Ever said to just go with it.


I guess I'm questioning my interest. I mean, if I were really interested, wouldn't I be moving heaven and earth to go see him for a weekend? I think I'm worried that our differences in belief, religion and creed are more than I'm willing to work to overcome.


He's just so well-behaved and gentlemanly and polite. I like all of those things, but I don't mind someone who misbehaves every now and again (if you know what I mean).




I feel like I'm worried too much about this. It is as if I'm worried about being too judgmental about someone's beliefs or too stubborn to even consider dealing with them. Being judgmental and stubborn is generally considered a negative thing, but maybe I should go with these feelings.


Do I not go forward because I'm worried about future conflict based on (what I am assuming) is a Great Divide in feelings on the appropriateness of certain behavior between consenting adults? Or do I wait until I reach the Great Divide and risk feelings being hurt and arguments being had?


I'm thinking about this too much, I know I am.



The boy

(Sorry for the delay. It would have been better if I wrote this when it happened, but I’ve been tres busy.) I met The Relief Worker, well, at work. A lot of companies in this area are bringing in folks to help with Katrina-related tasks. I was rushing through one of our offices the day Hurricane Rita was coming. I had run through rain to get inside and was cold and wet. I had misjudged a puddle and ended up with water in my espadrilles, so I was in a denim skirt (it was casual Friday) with a casual blazer and top and bright pink Crocs. My hair was wet and in a ponytail, mascara pooled a pit under my eyes and I was in a bad mood. So all I want to do is go home, uncork a bottle of wine and not leave until after the hurricane. But I'm getting a tour of this office and being introduced to some of the temporary people who have relocated to help. I'm trying to be gracious, but I'm worn out. The Relief Worker happened to be walking by. He stopped to introduce himself – he had a great handshake and a nice smile and friendly eyes. He's from another Southern state and he has a very thick, soft accent. We smile, talked for a bit and he almost immediately started to flirt. I smiled and continued my tour. The next day, after Rita, I went back to this office for a few hours of work. I was working at a station near the Relief Worker's. As soon as I walked in, he smiled and greeted me by name. He asked how I weathered the storm, joked that I should have invited him over. We joked a little during the day. He invited me to dinner with the people from that office, but I already had plans, so I passed. The same thing happened the next day and then on Monday when I called to ask him something, he pretended to be hurt that I wouldn't go to dinner with him. I promised that I would, but I didn't get around to it until Thursday. It was nice. We had a good time. He isn't like any guy I'd normally date. He's about 10 years older than I am, divorced, has a child, is very religious (and not the same religion as I am) and cheers for a football team I seriously dislike. He lives in another state, and I hate long distance nonsense. But he's funny and he's a good listener and I feel at ease when I'm with him. We spent the day together that next Saturday. It was great. We talked about his daughter and ate a long leisurely lunch before seeing a movie. He even wore a hat from my football team even though he cheers for a rival. All in all, a perfect date. But then he didn’t try to kiss me at the end of the night. I know it was our second date, but still. I actually had a perfect chance to kiss him during the movie. He leaned over and made some joke about the cheesy ending to the cheesy romantic comedy we were seeing. I smiled and jokingly wiped a fake tear from his cheek. I should have just gone for it, but the theatre was packed and there was a row of high schoolers behind us. I did NOT want to be the girl who made out with her date in front of high schoolers. Not cool. The next week he got shipped to a new office. Then he went home – we hung out for about an hour one day before he left, but that was it. He called and e-mailed several times. Now he’s back until the end of November, but right now he’s stationed in a town like four hours away. I don’t know what to do. I like him. I know this because I blush whenever someone brings him up. Part of me doesn’t feel like putting too much energy into this because it would be long distance and because he is so much older and has a child and just isn’t my type. I like to play and party and he likes to do stuff with his church. But I can’t NOT date someone because he is religious. He has strong beliefs and feelings and he lives his life be a certain creed. And as long as that creed doesn’t include things that offend me, I can’t fault him for that. Can I? (That’s a rhetorical question.) I told a guy friend about the Relief Worker and how he was religious and didn’t drink a lot and how I had spent four hours in my favorite restaurant/bar and only had an iced tea. The guy friend asked, “Who is this guy dating, you or someone else?” I don’t know.

An open letter to my Jerkface Neighbor

Dear Jerkface Neighbor,


I know that in these trying times, simple things like parking your car in between the lines can seem like a monumental task. I also know that given the GINORMOUS truck you have, parking in a normal-sized spot is downright impossible sometimes.


I am nothing if I am not a caring and compassionate person who is sympathetic to her neighbors. So I overlooked your inability to park in ONE spot on Monday evening. I was too tired to really care anyway and went to bed pretty much immediately.


And on Tuesday, I was in a hurry to get home, change clothes and grab a bottle of wine to bring to a friend's house for some much-needed drinky-and-gossip time. I barely even noticed that you were double parked that day.


And I would have overlooked the double parking on Wednesday night, but it caused me to have to park on the other side of the building, in the "shadowy" section of the parking lot, which is the perfect hiding spot for would-be attackers and rapists. They pretty much LIVE for shadows. Furthermore, I had my folded laundry, a small bag of groceries and a purse that I had to drag across the parking lot to my apartment at 11 p.m., when I finally finished a rather long day.


HOWEVER, Jerkface Neighbor, the obnoxious noise from your GINORMOUS truck that interrupted my sleep this morning at 5 a.m. really rubbed me the wrong way.


In fact, it did more than that. It supremely pissed me off.


As if it wasn't bad enough that you take up two spots (when you clearly live in a one-bedroom unit that, from my reading of my lease, has one parking spot associated with it), now you are waking me up at the crack of dawn on the one day in the past five weeks that I haven't had to be up that early to begin with?


You should be ashamed of yourself.


Today was my morning to sleep in until 6 a.m. and your TANK-SIZED truck wouldn't start, so you revved the engine for a half-hour, banged on things and cursed, keeping me from my well-deserved extra hour of sleep.


Why, Jerkface Neighbor, why? Are you so selfish and inconsiderate that you don't even realize why this is a bad idea? Were you not aware that it was STILL DARK OUTSIDE and that it was possible that some of us actually ENJOY sleeping?


Jerkface Neighbor, do you even have a job? Because once you finally got your GARGANTUAN truck to start and peeled out of the two parking spots you were taking up (did that really loud noise coming from your EXTRA MANLY truck make your penis feel bigger or something?) you sped off   only to return 45 minutes later and park in two spots again. (I know this, because my stressed job-having self saw you sitting in your car when I left for work at 6:45 a.m.)


Beware, Jerkface Neighbor. I am on to you. I'm planning on sleeping in reeeeaaally late on Saturday (like maybe until 8 a.m.!) and if you wake me, you will need more than an obnoxiously large truck to protect you.


Just remember: Hell hath no fury like a charming (but single) woman scorned.






P.S. Sorry for the lack of updates. Stories about the dates with the boy soon. I promise!

Charming, but single is 25 26 27(!), lives in the Southern part of the U.S.A. and likes both her drinks and her boys tall. E-mail (listed below) her and she may respond. You can also IM her in AIM/AOL. (If she ever remembers to sign on.)
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Former taglines of this blog: "A Journal in Dates and Drinks" and "A Dateless Journal of Drinking."

Those Particulars
Some Backstory
Memories of the Way We Were
Updates and Towel Snapping
One Year Wrap-Up
Just As She Is
An Open Letter to Myself
After 26 years, she HAS learned something
An Open Letter to the Men Who Message Me Through Match
Sharing a smoke

Associated Content Interview with Charming
The Hindu: Blog Sisters are here

Links (Updated!)


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