Psychotic Chinese Girl

First Actual Date is Tonight

2010-05-19T13:46:00.000-07:00

My first real date is tonight, dinner and coffee… I’m starting to develop symptoms of anxiety again. Hopefully, I won’t abort last minute. I have this irrational fear of never finding someone capable of accepting me as I am. I look like a girl, but a lot of the times my mentality and actions lean more towards the dominant side. Even on a recent venture with “Wonderful Twin” to the fortuneteller confirmed my suspicions. My future life mate is going to be a “little bitch”. (*Disclaimer: The fortuneteller did not fully describe my future husband in these specific words) She did say he would be a handsome fella… So, I am now in search of a handsome bitch husband… Crap. On countless occasions, I have tried changing myself in order to become the epitome of femininity; however, I have always failed miserably. But, I’ve become quite content with myself lately. I’m wonderful just as I am. I could never giggle quietly, bat my eyelashes, or blush on cue. My roaring Santa with a dash of drunken hyena laugh gives me away each and every time. Nope, if the perfect man is out there, he will have to accept all these idiosyncrasies. He will also need to accept that I will lie in bed, watch my trashy TV shows, all the while eating a bag of Cheetos. And mind you, I will most definitely not clean up the crumbs with a napkin like a proper lady. Instead, I’ll always lick my fingers, press down gently on crumb and insert back into mouth. That is how it’s supposed to be done.

A particular email from a certain gentleman ruffled my feathers last night. This is the second sent by this gentleman, and I had every intention of replying to his first message, but I’ve been working on the emails on a first come, first serve bases.

Prospect -
Age: Thirty-seven-year-old male
Children: No
Status: Never married
Occupation: Construction

Message Number One – Subject: I’m a great catch… catch me before I get caught…
Hello, You seem like a very sweet fun person. May I take you out to get to know you sometime?

(Not a bad subject… witty…)

Message Number Two – Subject: You are beautiful but…
You are beautiful, but your lack of response tells me much of what else you lack.

(*Feather ruffling time)

Me: (This convo is now taking place via an instant messenger service provided by the site) I lack much… what in particular are you speaking of?
Feather Ruffler: You should have responded to my email faster. I am a great catch.
Me: I’m sure you are. You have my attention now. (*sarcastic undertone)
FR: What are your interests? I love beer. We could grab a beer sometime. Do you like beer?
Me: No, I’m sorry, I hardly ever drink beer. Guiness is great though.
FR: I like…. (Proceeds to list all the beers he enjoys consuming.)
Me: Yes, I can tell your love for beer from your picture.

By now, I’m a bit confused. I’m not really sure if this man is trying to woo beer or me. I suppose if there were a contest between a bottle of Budweiser and myself. The Bud would be the victor. Beer doesn't talk back, keeps you warm and happy; you can have many in the same sitting, and definitely cheaper. Darn it, I’m screwed. Lesson of the day, there are many types of people in the world… and also many, many, many different brands of beer.

FR: Can I take you out for ___________? (FML… key phrase from my own damn rules.)
Me: No, but we can go for coffee?

Feather Ruffler will hence be known as Beer Man.

Beer Man and I have a coffee date tomorrow…

Time Machine

2010-05-18T14:46:00.000-07:00

A very random girls night out on Saturday turned into my first online dating adventure. We were invited to join a boy and his friends on a night out in Downtown Los Angeles for some drinks and a possible karaoke session. Without the support of my girlfriends, I would have never mustered enough courage to take on such a mission. It takes a lot for me to even admit to being a coward most of the time in life, as well as having thin skin. I embarrass easily, though I can play it off quite well. It wasn’t until I circled the block for the third consecutive time waiting for the valet did I really start to lose all composure. Palms sweating, the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention, shortness of breath, and a little nausea crept up as well… I desperately needed an escape plan. I tried being coy and asked the girls if they would much rather have a real girls night out. In unison, my ears vibrated ferociously with a resounding, “No!!” Eyes blurred a bit by now, and since I had control of the vehicle, being the driver and all, I was about to make a run for it. That is until M.C. threatened to pull me out of the car by my hair… This actually did not sound too horrible until I realized the possibility of my gigantic butt flashing random strangers during the struggle, being in a mini dress and all… I decided to walk into the bar, head up high and dignified…

Hmm… What nickname could I give this boy for the sake of writing? Ahh, Let’s call him “DM”…

DM & Co. were perfect gentlemen to say the least, very sweet and attentive to the girls and I. The chemistry was lacking a bit between DM and I though... I had more fun being with my girlfriends and seeing them having a great night. All in all, a very peaceful night, until J.C. fell down the stairs and ate shit. Nonetheless, DM’s a very great guy; he called to make sure I arrived home safely. We are planning on going out again on Wednesday. A real date… dinner and coffee… Let’s see shall we?

I had an intensely vivid dream on Sunday, involving me somehow inventing a time machine. I did what every self-righteous human being would do, save the world. Okay, I really didn’t. I traveled back in time to give my eighteen-year-old self the lottery numbers for the next decade… Back to The Future movies were always my favorite. Needless to say, I most definitely wasn’t a happy camper when I woke. Being immensely too excited about this blog, I entertained myself with thoughts of a “relationship time machine” … only capable of reversing certain horrendous moments of past meetings with a significant other. Countless moments swam through my head until cluttered with regret…

Nope, I wouldn’t change a damn thing! I am who I am and what I have become because of these life experiences. I wouldn’t even for a moment consider giving up my friendships to avoid a few heartbreaks. We give and we take in life. I have given a lot, but what I’ve taken is much more dear to me and irreplaceable.

Take for example, one of my closest friends, “Lucky Hubs” (Horrible pseudo name, I deeply apologize, but way better than her own suggestion of “Yoda”). At one point in life about 10 yrs ago, we had the same boyfriend… at the exact same time, unbeknownst to us of course. I admit to being the mistress. Lucky and this man were together for quite some time before I, the evil whore, came along and ruined this union… This man was not so much a soul mate to either of us. We were hurt and torn for a while; however, over the years we’ve both realized it was meant to be… Lucky and I were meant to be friends for this entire lifetime, the story of wifey and the whore. Even through the ugly, something magnificent can be found. The End.

Thanks girls for holding me up or body slamming me back down when need be! (Wonderful Twin, JC, MC, Yoda (*gag), SB, and VW)
If no one will take me as I am, please always have an extra seat for me at the dinner table on Thanksgiving and Christmas… Also, please don’t forget the Cool Whip for the pie… Much appreciated.

Man-dals...

2010-05-17T14:05:00.000-07:00

Day 4: Man-dals… (aka. Man Sandals… aka. Man Slippers) ***Post inspired by MC***

Good day to all… We are having a much-welcomed gloomy, rain filled day in southern California.

As you might have assumed by now, the posts will be on recess during the weekends. The precious days of Saturday and Sunday will be used to live life and experience great times.

Well, I must say I’m completely overwhelmed by online dating. Not three days in and I’ve received an entirely too many emails and interests. Thirty-five emails and over 90 interested “nudges”. Hmmm…

35 emails X 3 replies = 105 emails total
105 X average 5 min per response = 525min
525 min = 8.75 hours? (Holy crap! I’ll be spending more time on the computer than actual dates!)

A brilliant boost for my ego, I must say, felt as though I needed a “collar to pop”. Until, I hurled back down to reality when I realized my profile was simply on the “new fish” list. So it wasn’t my magnificent smile or witty sense of humor? I suppose being the fresh meat isn’t all too bad. I’ve utilized my Sunday to actually take the time and look through these profiles. People are all interesting in their own special ways I suppose. It’s hardly easy to put your best foot forward in a simple email or explain the reasons behind being a great catch in a couple short paragraphs. If anyone is considering online dating as well, please heed my warning… Double-check your message prior to hitting the little send button! Do it! Just do it!! Not only for spelling, grammar errors, but also review the content, even if you’re sending the same template email to all potentials. I received by far the most sincere email over weekend. Practically melted my tar-covered heart into pudding within minutes. That is until it ended with, “We should really grab coffee sometime Jane.” My name is not Jane…

Now onto the main subject of the day, Man-dals…

Mid August of last year, under the encouragement of friends and family, I forced myself to start dating again. Well, actually only one date which despaired me from venturing on another until the New Year. Mr. Man-dals and I met at a party, hardly could call it love at first sight; however, he didn’t cause any such feelings of regurgitation on my part. I accepted his kind invitation to coffee, lunch, dinner, or drinks with only slight hesitations. I accept all responsibility towards this failure of a date, partly because I had yet to be fully functional single person again, partly due to my cynicism, and mostly from unnatural dislike of man-slippers.

We agreed to meet at a restaurant in between our two worlds. Upon exiting my vehicle, he greeted me with an inviting smile and a warm hug. At which time, my eyes casually glanced towards the floor to behold a horrid sight… The Man-dals. The seconds turned to minutes, the minutes turned to hours as I stared at the callus beaten feet, the yellowing nails of which could pass for a ninety-year-old woman who had been smoking cigarettes with her right foot, and the black toe jam crammed in between the crevices of the under-nail. I attempted a pathetic smile for my own greeting as the top right corner of my mouth twitched in objection. I can only remember sporadic details of the conversation during lunch. I can however, remember every nervous shake of Mr. Man-dal’s outstretched foot piercing out from underneath the table. At this point it dawned on me, I am, myself a horrible date. I completely wrote this person off for something a simple pedicure and a trip to the shoe store could easily fix. I decided then and there, I would become a better first date. I listened to his stories vigilantly, and engaged myself fully into the conversation. He wasn’t a bad guy… Before the end of lunch, Mr. Man-dals had downed five Black label whiskies on ice. I thought he quite possibly could be trying to drink away the pain from a horrible date, but he did ask me to have coffee after lunch. This time around I didn’t pass any sort of judgment. Being a one shot wonder, I couldn’t fathom how he could still be functional. He wasn’t. The alcohol caught up to him during coffee at Starbucks. At which time slurring slang and curses followed with stories of his “baby’s mama.” She never appreciated him and thought he drank excessively. “See,” he said while repeatedly touching his index fingers to his nose, “I can handle my drink.” A speckle of saliva hit me in the eye. At this point, I’ve thought of at least a dozen different scenarios to end the date quickly. The most effective one being where I would jam the coffee straw into my eyeball forcing myself to the ER stat. I aborted the mission on the possibility of Mr. Man-dals following me to the hospital after I had done such an act. Well, time will always pass and dates will most definitely come to an end. We walked back to our cars and called it a night, not before he courteously asked me to escort him into a CVS to purchase alcohol because he ran out at home.

I have to believe we will all encounter our perfect other half eventually, even Mr. Man-dals. One day the perfect girl with skills of carving out toe-jam will enter his life and they will live happily ever after.

Another story from my life… Now, back to replying to emails…

Day 1: Rules and Life Lessons

2010-05-14T11:42:00.001-07:00

Day 1:

Profile done. Pictures uploaded. Millions of questions answered.

As I begin my quest, I’ve realized many obstacles, which may inhibit my journey. Mostly, I must reflect on my own faults and prejudices. I am one cynical, judgmental girl… at least I believe myself to be…. Or maybe in our own minds, we all are… some people secretly and some more outspoken… Thus, with the help of a few close friends, I have developed a set of rules to follow. Such rules will hopefully broaden my mind and open my eyes to new people I normally wouldn’t meet or consider.

Rule #1: Must respond to all emails at least three times (This will eliminate any “judging solely based upon the cover of a book” mentality on my part…) Hey, some people may not be very good at ice breakers.

Rule #2: Must go out with anyone who asks or any variations of, “Will you meet me for _______?” I’ll leave this part for my eyes only to deter any possible attempts of sabotage by friends…

Rule #3: Must be brutally honest. (In my past, I have always relied on my ability to “drop off the face of the Earth” as the most effective way to end communication with someone.) I won’t allow myself this pleasure anymore. Regardless of the scenario, I will tell the truth. This may or may not work to my advantage. On one hand any contact will cease immediately… On the other, I will be prone to receiving tons of name-calling and hate mail…. We will see how this pans out… Luckily for you, this will at least result in the creation of some interesting reads.

Any other suggestions for rules or advice will be much-appreciated friends…

I also promise to try and NOT judge on the bases of looks and height. We, as in women, have been pre-programmed if you will, by the many fairy tales read in our youth. Seeking out the tall, dark, and handsome. But what if, my “dream man” ends up being short, pale, and squat?? Will I give up a lifetime of happiness because someone doesn’t fit my mold? No, I will not!! Come all ye short, pale, and squat! Applications are now being accepted and reviewed!

This brings me another childhood story of prejudices and biases in addition to yesterday’s post. Sixth grade, third encounter, and another dare: I’m unable to remember the exact details of this game we played as kids in the early nineties, but it involved writing the name of someone of the opposite sex on one side of your hand and an action on the other side. You were then “dared” to approach said person and perform such “action”. Okay, friends, we were all 12 years old; please no weird perverse thoughts… The “actions” were more along the lines of a hug or a kiss on the cheek. Of course most of these dares were pre-meditated by yourself and an accomplice, writing the name of your crush instead of a random boy. Long story, short… Upon telling my crush I needed to give him a hug as a dare, I was immediately rejected yet again. His reasoning? “I don’t date Asians…” Mr. A-hole boy number two, I am not asking you to date me, just asking you for damn hug. I believe this to be the very first time I ever cried over a boy, and in fact also the first time I ate lunch in a bathroom stall at school. My pride deeply wounded by this comment for many years to come… His reasoning could have been any of my thousand other faults, but he chose something I neither want nor am able to change. Most definitely would have been less of a permanent blow if his reasons pertained to my giant thick gold-rimmed eye glasses, braces with multi-colored bands to match the holidays, a Nirvana shirt I wore almost every day, or even the fact of me being 4 inches taller than him… Nope, absolutely scarred for life now…

What have we learned thus far?

1) Boys pinch you in the ass
2) Boys push you down hills and laugh while you’re rolling
3) Boys say hurtful things and force you to eat in bathroom stalls alone

Again, not a very good starting view on relationships in general…

Oh, Nice! I have received my first email. Oh, crap… May I amend rule number one?

Prospect: Thirty-nine-year-old male, three children, and lives 10 miles away.
Photo of him in a backwards cap… head titled way up away from the camera… throwing up some sort of a gang-affiliated sign with hands???

Message: Wat up? You hot! Lets hook up for a drink.

Seriously?!?!? Seriously?!?!!?

I suppose I did create the rules and thus must implement them on myself… Ugh…

Dear Mr. Backwards Cap Man-Child…

Day 0: The beginning...

2010-05-13T12:14:00.000-07:00

I must say the task at hand is rather difficult… The hardest step is putting myself out there and actually finishing my profile. Argh… so many questions… I’m not sure if it’s only me, but even the simplest questions seem pre-meditated to test and place judgment on me. For instance, hair color… uhmmm… hair color now or maybe last month? Eye color during the weekday or weekend?? Yes, I wear colored contacts on occasion. Am I average or curvy?? I must admit my self-image is somewhat distorted at times. I most definitely did not hit the “high metabolism Asian genetic lottery”. Fat, I am not; however, pretty darn meaty in Asian terms. I am almost a giant to some people as well. Being 5 foot 6 inches is common; however, after wearing 4.5” stilettos… Yup, you get the point. I am completely open to dating people of any race and ethnicity, but thus in my life have only been limited to a few. Much has to do with the fact of me loving heels… I tower over about 95% of Asian boys. Geez, is it too much to ask for a 6-foot hottie who could throw me around a little? Crapolees!!! Now writing this blog, the words are pummeling out faster than spilled coffee on a keyboard, but profile??? F-me… I’m stuck. Complete writer’s block…

I suppose I should rant a bit about my seemingly dysfunction view on dating, since this is “The rants of a Psychotic Chinese Girl”… (Drum roll please….)

Second grade, first encounter with the male species, ended tragically, detention and a firm scolding from my excruciatingly traditional Chinese parents. Boy, who stands behind me the lunch line, alphabetical order, pinches my ass. I, in return punch him in the face, thus leading to detention. For the remainder of the year, I pawned my snack pak to the boy who stands in front of me in line to allow me to cut in front of him every single day. Good thing this was in the spring, because I really enjoy chocolate pudding.

Fourth grade, second encounter, but first real childhood crush on a boy, ended tragically, detention and a firm scolding from the rents. Let’s see if you can recognize a pattern. Since, I have already proclaimed to be only a so-so writer, I have included a so-so drawing in order to provide my many readers with a clear mental picture. Okay, I know it is an utterly horrible drawing, but that’s not the point. My homeroom friend dared me to declare my undying love to my crush at recess, and being the type of girl to never ever turn down a “triple dare with a cherry on top”, I whole-heartedly agreed. Growing up the mid west, I am spoiled as to having vast open fields, rolling hills with green grass and lots of nature as a backyard. Our school sat on top of such beautiful scenery; however, on this particular day, green hills were more a curse than a gift from Mother Nature. As the recess bell chimed, my innocent heart fluttered as I ran through the playground in search of my crush, only to find him in deep conversation with a friend. I swept my hand through my hair calming the mess as much as possible, and then took a deep breath before waving him over to me. Eyes upon the floor, nervously kicking at the floor with my shoe, I sputtered, “I like you.” As soon as those words escaped my mouth, I could feel his body tensing, and before I could react, I was tumbling down the hill. I could still hear the gentle remnants of “Ewwwwwww….” while rolling… A-hole boy had pushed me down the hill. Fuming with anger, and mostly embarrassment, I stomped back up the hill to give him a piece of my mind… Resulting in me rolling down the same hill again. Geez, I can take a hint! Most definitely I was not going to let this happen a third time. Stomping back up once again, with a snake like reflexes, I punched him in his still laughing mouth and pushed him down the hill… Watching a-hole boy roll was a very satisfying moment in my young life. Poetic justice. Until, detention and a firm scolding.

All in all in my short little life thus far, I’ve learned boys pinch you on the butt and push you down hills while laughing…. Not a very healthy start I suppose… Now, there are third, fourth, fifth, and a millionth encounters, but we’ll leave that for another day… Really need to finish this profile… ugh!

Have a good day all! Until next time…

Introduction

2010-05-13T11:17:00.000-07:00

In the game called life, we can either be the jackasses or the dumbasses…. So far, I’ve only really been the dumbass… O_o Somehow, through my near twenty-seven years of life, each encounter with the male gender ended almost the exact same way, me crawling through the rubble trying to find the cracked and fallen pieces of my heart. With of course, my trusty super glue in one hand and a Grey Goose and soda in the other… Well friends, it seems as though the glue has set and the goose has been cooked… It is now time to start a new… A journey into the mind of a psychotic Chinese girl, with her most dysfunctional dating life in tow…
Neither an avid writer nor even a very articulate person in general, I will try and convey my dating experiences in this blog… Since I believe it to be quite impossible to have a date a day, the rest of time the blog will be filled with my most honest, maybe brutal, and most definitely nonsensical rants on life. More importantly, I hope to especially concentrate on my online dating adventures. We will start such journey tomorrow after I maneuver the intricate designs of being profiled, labeled and judged by one of the web’s supposedly top dating sites…. Wish me luck friends and the millions of invisible fans I believe to be reading my wise words… Here goes nothing! Or is it everything?!?!