31 January, 2008
30 January, 2008
On Match, you can click a button that says "Who's looked at me?".* When I click this button and see that a guy has viewed my profile, here is what goes through my head:
"Oh, I guess he wasn't interested. There must be something on my profile that didn't match him....maybe I'm too tall, or maybe he likes blonde women. Whatever."
Point being, if a guy looks at my profile and doesn't wink or email, I think he's not interested for whatever reason.
Now, I find that it works better to look at a guy and let him email, because here in the South, boys like to make the first move. And really, they are frightened by bold girls like me. So I will do a search and just look at guys. Sometimes I look at them and I pull a Joey Tribiani, and sometimes I look and....well....laugh and move on. But it never fails to prove an intrinsic difference between men and women.
Behold an email I received today. I get these emails all the time.
"ok thought i would wink first to see if i got your attention then i thought i would e-mail to see if we could chat. you viewed my profile so I must have caught your eye. what you see is what you get no game playing with me. would like to get to know more about you even just to become a friend. looking forward to hearing from you yes or no."
What is it about men that makes them think that they are all God's individual gift to women? And why can't women have that characteristic? I have to be honest, I think I would like to have that complete upfront self confidence. For the most part, I'm more confident than most women, but there is always that tiny inner voice that questions.
Sometimes, I think life would be much more simple as a man. What do you think?
* Can someone tell me how to make that sentence grammatically correct? With the quotation marks and all?
Posted by Courtney at 7:06 PM
29 January, 2008
In response to my Fun Monday post, a few people asked how I numbered my photo. Well, I thought and thought about this, and I decided that it would be for the good of the blogging community to share my secret.
Yes, that's right, although I have access to and know how to use Photoshop, I decided to go with the very new, improved and oh-so-high tech Paint. Go ahead, be impressed.
Editor's Note: I'm sarcastic....but I really would be happy to tell you how to edit photos easily if you would like to know. Just ask!
28 January, 2008
I really like this Fun Monday thing because as I was faced with having to work an actual 5 day work week this morning, I remembered that I get to put a little something on here, and The Internet! They will look at it!
This week Angela is the hostess with the mostess and here's what she wants:
For today's Fun Monday, continuing in the spirit of "being interested in people", I would like to know, or see, what's on, in or under your bedside table! So open those draws and bare your soul to us! Is there anything special there that has a story or a memory that you can tell us about? Books that you keep there to delve into from time to time? Trinkets that you don't know where else to put? Let's see!
Unfortunately for those who look at my bedside table, this is going to be a little boring. The table is in the far corner of the room, and I just never go over there. So not much excitement makes its way there, but I'll show you what I do have.
So there it is, in all it's teeny tiny glory. I have it numbered for your convenience.
1. A glass of water. I always fix myself a glass of ice water before bed because I find it to be comforting. I suppose it's because when you are a little kid, you always ask your parents for a glass of water because that meant you got to stay up the few extra minutes it took for them to get it. I usually do not drink it.
2. Radio/alarm clock. It tries to wake me up.
3. Tar-jjjay lamp. I have another one sitting on my dresser.
4. Hand and foot cream. Gotta keep 'em soft!
5. A scented candle. For when I want to romance myself.
6. Books. From bottom to top: Maggie's book, My ever changing Bucket List, Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (which I am currently reading), Vinegar Hill (next in line), and my fatass journal, where I write down what I eat so I won't get fat. :o)
7. Cellphone. It also tries to wake me up.
8. Pictures I have not yet hung. I love them, I just can't decide where to put them.
I also took a picture of the underside. I told myself that whatever was under there, I would still show. That could have gotten really embarrassing and really personal. Luckily, I have cleaned my room recently. :o)
1. Cell phone charger.
2. The rest of the Lord of the Rings series.
3. Camera battery recharger.
So there you have it. Had the assignment said to take a picture of your closet or dresser....that would been a lot longer for me to explain!!
Posted by Courtney at 12:27 PM
25 January, 2008
I love travel. I love new places! I love when I get to go to them or free because it's a work trip, and I love even more when my best friend gets to go with me because she flies for free (YAY for being related to an airline employee!!)!!
Also, I love San Diego.
1. Since men are what is on my mind, I should start by commenting on the men. HELLO! The biggest difference between men in Atlanta and men in San Diego? West Coast men are REAL MEN. No man bag. No guyliner. No shoe closet that is bigger and more filled than mine. They are just laid-back, manly men. With five o'clock shadows and well-fitting blue jeans and surfer bodies. MMMmmmm.... Earth to Atlanta men! Girls like MEN, not metro-sexuals.
2. SEAFOOD. I mean, people always tell me that you just can't get good seafood in Atlanta unless you pay the price of a new baby tiger. I always blow it off because, hey, Savannah is not too far and that's on the water, right? But oh, no. I have two words for you: Fish. Tacos. Holy crap, if you are in San Diego, go to the Gas Lamp district and find Alambres. Order fish tacos. Thank me when you get back home.
3. Attitude. If you have read this blog at all, you know I think people in Atlanta have some attitude. When you go to a bar on a weekend, the bartender usually asks you what you want, serves it, shouts a price, cashes you out or opens a tab, and moves on to the next person. If you happen to tip big, he or she will yell a "Thanks" over their shoulder, and possibly ding a bell so other people know you are a high roller. While waiting on our flight, my BFF and I went to a bar in the Atlanta airport to have a drink. We met a friendly English man there, who was paying for his beer by the drink. He wasn't sure how our money worked, so he hadn't tipped her yet. She walked over to her friend and pointed at him and said, "I hope you tip me big because HE HASN'T TIPPED ME SHIT." I mean come on. Not so much in San Diego. I can honestly say I got a sincere thank you, with eye contact, from every service oriented person I encountered. Even away from the tourist sections. Not only that, but I went on a morning walk, and people walking or running by would smile and say good morning! Even a surfer climbing over the rocks back to his car stopped to say hello. People there are just nice, and seem happy. And maybe that is because they live in paradise, but why can't we all just be content with our surroundings? Life would be so much more fun that way.
4. Navy ships are big. Navy men....I cannot comment on. That is all.
5. Stay here. Don't believe them when they tell you it is $42 to get downtown. Find her. I did.
Searching for Kate. We found many, many of her friends. Do you see them? Oh yeah, internet, meet my best friend! Do I have to tell her I have a blog, now that she's on here?
18 January, 2008
When I was 20, I moved to Orlando to do an internship for Disney World. I worked at an ice cream shop. I wore goofy outfits, smiled at mean parents and crying children and asked them "Would you like sprinkles on that?". Next to the shop I worked at was a very swanky restaurant which employed only the most experienced wait staff, high end guest services "concierges" (not hosts and hostesses,DUH) and actual chefs. Not cooks who have worked in chain restaurants, but actual chefs, who had degrees and snacked on things like foie gras and pate.
I was so impressed by this restaurant, and everyone who worked there.
One of the hosts, AHEM, concierges, used to come in to the shop and say hello to me every now and then. We'll call him Napoleon. Napoleon would come by on his break, or say hello and shoot me a wink as I walked through the back hallways. Finally, one day Napoleon sent me a note via a fellow concierge of his stating that he liked me and wanted to take me out.
Now, this made my day. Here was an older guy, who worked as a CONCIERGE at this swanky restaurant with actual CHEFS, and he liked me! Me, the awkward college kid who was serving sprinkles, or jimmies, or hundreds of thousands or whatever the hell you called them. I was beside myself, and I accepted the invitation to dinner.
One problem: Napoleon was short. Like 5'7 short.
People, I am tall! I am 5'11 barefoot and I love me some heels. So any given day I stand 6'1 in heels when I'm slouching.
But, I told myself to get over it, height is no big deal, he knows I tower over him and he doesn't care, so why should I?
So, Napoleon sets the date and he is going to pick me up and take me out. Everything goes as planned, Napoleon picks me up right on time and we head to the restaurant. He mentioned that I was wearing heels (come on, you find me a cute shoe with no heel, and this was 6 years ago when flats were SO not in style) and that he didn't expect me to. But he swore he didn't care, and laughed it off. We arrive at the restaurant and proceed to the front door.
As we are walking through the doorway, he reaches up and puts his hand on the top of my head and pushes down while saying, "Haha, you know, I just don't want you to hit your head on the way in."
Seriously? Did he really just do that?
The rest of the night was riddled "Amazon Woman" jokes and me getting so fed up with it that I asked him what his mother ate during her pregnancy that stunted his growth. Or did he have a hormone problem?
That night, I swore to never date a man shorter than me. Over time, short men have proven to me that they are never really ok with the woman being taller. And come on, who wants to date a man that you feel like you might break in certain.....situations?
Fast forward to now. I have a Match.com profile. I've had for a while, but haven't found anyone really worth keeping around yet. So after about 9 months of first dates and one bottle of red wine, I decide to change my profile. I was kind of cutesy, a bit long-winded and contained many, many exclamation points!!! And smileys!! :o)
So, I keep it straightforward:
If you can tell me where my headline came from, we'll definitely get along!
Cliff Notes of Me: I find humor in the little things in life. I'm very dry witted and sarcastic. I have an amazing family, whom I hang out with a lot. I also have amazing friends. I am strong willed and independent, and also the most loyal friend you will ever make. I like to start slow. Friends first, the rest comes naturally after that. If you can make me laugh, you're golden!
ALSO - I am tall. 5'11. Really, I'll know if you aren't exactly six feet tall. And, I like to wear heels. So in the effort to be honest, I prefer men taller than me. :o)
I LOVE the Georgia Bulldogs.
That is the exact text of my "About Me" section as of 3 days ago. Since then I have received:
One email from a 5'8 man in Nashville. 39 years old.
One wink and an email from a 5'10 man in Chicago. 37 years old.
One email from a 5'7 man in rural Georgia. 25 years old.
One wink and one email from a 5'9 man in rural Georgia. 25 years old.
One wink from a 5'9 man in my neck of the woods. 33 years old.
One wink from a 5'9 man in Atlanta. 23 years old.
Each email I received says something along the lines of:
"Greetings, I'm (name omitted to protect the innocent short man)
Can someone explain this to me? All the short men in the world are uniting in an effort to kill my hopes that there remains a normal, tall man out there for me.
I'm headed to San Diego tomorrow for a few days. Please God, let there be some tall men out West. My hope needs to be restored. Desperately.
15 January, 2008
Watch to the minute and a half mark. It's so worth it.
14 January, 2008
1. Most Important - My ass looks great! Why, you ask? Because I got these for Christmas and I put them on even though I thought they would look terrible and my thighs would break right through them. And you know what? They are incredibly flattering. Let me just tell you, I could kick Kim Kardashian's ass in an ass contest.
My Best Friend, as we were leaving the grocery tonight: "Uhm, so, not to sound weird, but your ass looks great in those pants."
Southern Doll, taken aback: "Really??"
BF: "Yeah, like I want to do more butt machines at the gym so my ass will be like UH and up there and all."
2. Fun Monday is FUN! Hi, everyone! Thanks for commenting! Thanks to Fianna to be my first reader/commenter! Thanks to Peter for answering my question on how to participate! I'm going to like this blogging thing.
3. I must always go to the gym between the hours of 5:45 and 7:00. Hello, all the hot men in Kennesaw!
4. I got my red Slanket in the mail today. Love!
5. I heard from Cocky Bastard! Yay!
Posted by Courtney at 5:11 PM
13 January, 2008
So, this is my very first Fun Monday post! Yay!
The challenge is this:
I want to hear about a web site and not just about any old web site. I want to hear about a web site that's changed your life. A web site that you can't live without. A web site whose inventor you'd like to see win a McArthur Genius Grant.
Maybe you want to sing the praises of a dating web site for helping you meet your spouse. Maybe the only thing getting you through the dark days of winter is an Internet comic. No story is too big, no story is too small - I want to hear it all on Monday.
Now to the good stuff. I am fairly new to this whole blogging thing, but I am not new to blog stalking. Oh, no, I have been stalking perfect strangers via the Internet for several years now. I have a list of blogs I stalk regularly, which are posted in my sidebar. I love celebrity gossip. I would love to be Maggie Mason's and Jason Mulgrew's friend. So I suppose the story of how I became a blog stalker will appropriately lead into the "Blogs that Changed My Life."
Yes, there are two. Both equally deserving, changed me in different ways, and choosing between them was like choosing between dark chocolate and bleu cheese steaks. Impossible. :o)
My dear friend Toph used to write a blog regularly. He is much more technologically advanced, and he introduced me to his blog years ago. He told me what it was about, and showed me to a few famous blogs. He doesn't really write on it much anymore, as his passion has moved from writing to culinary arts.
One of the first blogs he showed me was Dooce, the chronicles of Heather Armstrong. The day he showed me her site, I went home and read every post she had ever written. her humor and her honesty struck me. This was real life! She writes about marriage, motherhood, struggles with depression and just daily life. I could not believe that someone out there was brave enough to let the whole world into their very personal thoughts. But Dooce does it, she does it well and now, she does it for a living.
Recently, Heather redesigned her site to include more of her and her husband's amazing photography and to create a larger and more user-friendly site. I visit Dooce every day. I know that at 12:00 pm EST, she will have new pictures up. I can't wait until the day she starts selling her amazing photography.I look forward to hearing about her adorable daughter, her funny take on life and the world, and mostly, I look forward to being inspired by the honesty with which she shares her life.
Dooce is hands down the reason I believe in blogging.
Once the blog bug was in me, I used Toph's website as a starting point to find other blogs. He linked to other famous blogs as well as blog's of friends. I found a blog of a girl that he knew in college (I can't remember the address now to link it....), and via her website, I found Crazy Aunt Purl.
If Dooce is the reason I started reading blogs, Crazy Aunt Purl is the reason I decided to write one. Laurie is just a girl, living in Los Angeles, who got divorced. And she blogged about it. She does it with such brutal honesty that even if you have never been close to going through what she has, your heart will feel as if it is. She writes about being up, down, living, learning and just figuring it out. For Christmas, one of my gifts was Laurie's book. I sat down on Christmas night at 7:30 and did not get up until I finished. Well, I did get up around Chapter 30 to pour a glass of red wine.
Laurie will make you want to live life, and do it honestly and to your fullest potential, and do it for you. She inspires me to be open and to learn to be happy as me. Her blog has made me laugh and cry. Her post from when one of her cats, Roy, passed on is the reason I got Maggie. I wanted that connection with something living, and I knew I had that much love to give to an animal.
So there you have it. Dooce got me started, Crazy Aunt Purl jump started me. I check them both daily, and feel just a little disappointed when they aren't updated. I get inspired to write this here blog! I highly recommend these two lovely ladies, if you haven't visited their sites.
When I got a cat, I signed up for cute, cuddly, fuzzy purring fun times. I got that! Maggie is sweet! And she purrs! And plays well with others!
I did not sign up for blood in her pee, causing me to FREAK THE F*** OUT and fight her to take her to the vet, where they give me an antibiotic that I have to force down her throat at 5:30 in the afternoon for two weeks.
I also did not sign up for a relaxing Sunday evening at home, cleaning up the house and getting ready for the new week, which includes cleaning out the cat box and finding that OH MY GOD THERE IS SOMETHING NOT RIGHT IN MAGGIE'S POOP. Commence the freakout.
Upon further investigation, Google searches, and finding one too many pictures of tapeworms coming out of butts (feline and human alike) that I could ever care to see, I decide that my baby has a tapeworm, and that the medicine she is on is killing it and now it is coming out.
I did not sign up for that!!!
So, my Sunday evening has consisted of freaked out phone calls to my parents (because somewhere in my subconscious, I still believe that they can fix everything for me) and the collection of a stool sample to take to the vet. There is currently a target bag hanging on my bathroom door knob, just staring at me, taunting me.
"Hi, I'm a poop. I'm not where I belong, either. I'm not flushed, in the box, or in the trash. Nope, I'm a poop, hanging on your door."
When I envision my life as a young, fun, single gal in the South, I do not envision Sunday nights playing with poop.
On a happy note, tomorrow is Fun Monday! My first!! I am excited about that. :o)
10 January, 2008
This is what happens when you try to stuff an angry cat who hasn't been able to pee for 2 days into a cardboard carrier to take her to the vet.
For a nine month old kitty, Maggie packs a lot more punch than one might think.
09 January, 2008
Hi! It's a new year!
I guess I've been a little AWOL for the past week or two...OOPS!
In looking over my past few posts, I've been very melancholy and melodramatic...enough of that! One of my New Year's resolutions is to be more fun and less "I'm a twenty-something trying to figure it out, let me go ponder the world over my coffee." So, with that being said....
I brought in the new year with a bang!! Literally! Hahah...
There's another guy hanging around that I have only mentioned here once in passing, at the time I was more excited to have gone on a normal date. We'll name him CB, short for "Cocky Bastard." He's not necessarily a cocky bastard, but for some reason, I have it stuck in my mind that he is. Then, when we talk or hang out, it surprises me when he's genuine or even sweet.
So CB has been hanging around a couple months now, we see each other only every once in a while. I don't think CB will turn into a relationship, and I'm totally ok with that. He is a nice, good looking guy and we have fun, just as two people only wanting to have some fun. And, a week ago, that is what we did.
And boy, was it fun!
The thought of having a friend with a benefit or two is kind of appealing to me right now, as the whole dating thing has been less than stellar lately. So I saw CB on Friday, talked to him Saturday and he said he would call in a few days so we could hang out this week. So, now the waiting game. I hate the waiting game, but what can you do? I kind of think he might call. :o)