The 2nd Date, Online Yet Again.

The time is 4:00 P.M. and I sitting at a coffee shop listening to the myriad snippets of conversation that I hear in passing. By the way, it is probably 75 degrees or so with a nice cool breeze blowing. Yeah, kind of confirms my decision to move out here. Especially when in Texas I see it is already close to 100. Haha.

So a few entries ago I did a little piece on online dating. Today, after further research, I think it is time for another entry upon this topic. So without further delay, I give you…

ONLINE DATING PART 2

I think I mentioned this before but I filled out the free Eharmony online personality profile awhile back and you know what they said? “I was currently unmatchable!” so a couple months later, after I moved out here, I filled it out again and guess what? I am still currently unmatchable. Muahahah! This really cracks me up. First of all, I would like to proudly point that this gives me the greats honor of being able to brag about being rejected by 1.2 million women at once. I mean how many guys can claim that? I would like to thank the academy

Secondly, and I think this is really what is going on here, is that I am such a tremendously awesome, cool, genuine and handsome guy, that Eharmony realized they could not possibly find a girl who would be my equal. I suppose that means only God himself can find such a being.

As for Eharmony, I am not sure what I am answering wrong on their questionnaire. I mean they want you to be honest right? They ask you questions and want answers ranging from all the time, somewhat of the time, rarely and never. (Or something like that.) So when they ask, “Do you have dark thoughts?” What’s a guy to do? I mean who doesn’t have dark thoughts every now and then? Or even on a daily basis? So I put sometimes. What’s wrong with that? When they ask. “Have you ever felt they call of the ancient god Cthulu?” what are you supposed to put? I mean who hasn’t? Oh well, who needs them anyways, I have other sites to visit.

Now upon my rejection at Eharmony, that led me to investigate other sights, mainly free ones, since I don’t have much money. (So why am I even thinking of dating then?) I did a tad bit of online research and discovered there were a couple that stood out. The largest and most popular being Plenty of Fish (At www.plentyoffish.com) This is a completely free and easy to use site with no strings attached. You can view people, message them and even chat with them at no charge and there are thousands and thousands of people on it and hundreds in the L.A. area. Before I continue, let me state that L.A, as a whole, but especially Orange County has a reputation of being very, very fake and shallow. So in accordance with that I saw profiles for a lot of really attractive gals saying they were tired of the OC scene and looking for somebody honest, genuine and sincere who would not play games and would treat them with respect. I thought to myself, “Perfect! That’s me! I mean, I’m probably the nicest guy I know. I should be a shoe in.”

I email about 25 or so to see what happens and you know what? None of them replied.

So the question is: ARE they really looking for something different or are they looking for somebody who is honest, sincere, blah blah but hot and rich and fits into the O.C. mold? Now I know I’m not the most attractive guy, so maybe they weren’t attracted to me, and that’s fine, but I still found the whole thing amusing.

I’ll have you know that writing these profiles is a very difficult thing. You have to try to sum yourself up all in a few words and the worst thing is you got to have a headline to catch their attention. I looked at other guys’ liners to get some ideas and I even looked at some women. They were all the same, “Nice ___seeks honest, sincere blah, blah, blah” or “Searching for the one, “ or “trying this thing out.” Etc etc. You get it, all pretty non-descriptive. So I figured I would try and come up with something better and if they didn’t think it was funny, well I probably wouldn’t be into them anyways. And to be honest, you can’t really judge somebody based on one headline.

At first I put “Raised by Wolves.” After about ten minutes I decided that it was to silly. So I then put, “Have your very own red-headed stepchild.” I left this up for four or five days. I then mentioned it to my friends TK and SN they thought it was horrible, because it made me sound like I have a child. I guess they were right, but anyone reading my profile would know I didn’t. Oh well. I finally ended up with, “Red, white and blue, without you.” A bit cheesy at first until you realize I am red, (my hair) white, (exceptionally so) and blue. Of course blue probably makes me sound depressed, which is funny because for the first time in along time I am not. Oh well, it was better then my other idea, which was, “Red, white, and blue ball.” Anyways, I never put much stock in the whole thing, which leads to my next idea.

I am considering giving all the girls there exactly what they want: An impossibly handsome, manly yet smooth, rich, sincere and honest guy, in short, a fake personality. I have been thinking of this character for a while. He is 29 years old and served in the 101^st airborne for 4 years. Afterwards he went to law school somewhere prestigious. He just passed the bar is starting a promising career in Costa Mesa or maybe in Newport. Anyways, I’m thinking of a name as we speak. Suddenly all these gals would start chatting with me. I could reject them, saying they are to fake or I could engage them and have fun with them. (My friend TK says this does not sound like somebody who is the nicest guy he knows...I have to admit he is right.) Anyways, then TK gave me the ultimate idea. I could have my fake profile agree to meet them for coffee. Then the real me could arrive a bit early and be reading, writing etc. The girl shows up, the fake guy doesn’t, soon the girl realizes she has been stood up, I (the real me) move in saying “ah you look like you were stood up” or something like that. “Want to grab some coffee? No point wasting the evening.” That would be hilarious. I am still considering it and it would be a great story to write someday. Which is pretty much what I just did.

Well I will catch you later but remember this, SWM L4 SWF. Later gang.

And Then There Were Two...

29^th April 2008. The time is 10:00 and I am listening to the mournful sounds of some classical piece drifting through the coffee shop something moody with violins, cellos and harpsichord. It seems appropriate enough however.

Things in California are going okay. To be honest, the time has flown by very fast and I feel like I am in some sort of dream and that I will wake up tomorrow and still be in Dallas. I don’t FEEL like I am in California, nor have I done a lot of Cally kind of things. Maybe it is all still sinking in.

This weekend I traveled to fabled Richmond, Virginia to be in my good friend and valued New Prussian citizen, Andrew McMahans’ wedding. It was fun but I still can’t believe he is married. Here is the thing, back in high school and early junior college, the five of us: my brother, me, Andrew, Scott and another friend named Matt all hung together pretty much non-stop. (Except after 10 P.M. when Andrew had to be home in bed.) Matt pulled the trigger first and got married about ten years ago. One down, but us other four were still around. Then Scott went and done got hitched a year or so ago. (How long HAS it been?) It’s okay, still over fifty percent of “the five” are single. Then it happened, Andrew found the desire of his heart and somehow wedded her. That means three out of five are married and my brother and I are now the minority. How it ended up being us two I have no idea, but I feel as though I am standing on an island all alone now, the last remaining bastion of some old guard, gone and almost forgotten. Oh well, congrads Andrew. Now go make babies, New Prussia needs more citizens. And now I proudly present...

Fun with Charities:

So there is this charity called Shoes for Africa. You have probably heard of it and undoubtedly Andrew has done much work with them while in Sudan. Anyway, what they do is take your old shoes and give them to people in need in Africa. Every girl I know has about 20 pairs of shoes and I wonder if they take red high heels. Anyway, this charity has inspired me to come up with other charities of my own that take similar donations. (BTW- there is one that takes your old glasses as well.)

‘Undies for Down Under – Every day hundreds of people in Australia go without a decent pair of underpants. Now you can donate your used boxers or whitey tighties to this wonderful cause. Please wash first.

Bra’s for France – I am told women in France go topless at this beach. Of course this must be due to a shortage of tops, which this charity plans to change. Please donate your old Bra’s or Bikini tops.

Glasses for Cambodia – Okay, this one is really, really mean and I was tempted to leave it out, but hey, I have already come this far… Anyways, if you know a little history you will get it, if you don’t then it is just as well. Think Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge.

Coats for Antarctica – Under funded scientific research teams, forced to use all of their funds on equipment and transportation, saved money by skimming on cold weather gear and are now freezing to death in the snow and ice. Your old coats can save their lives but only if you donate them in time. However with global warming this may not be an issue much longer anyway.

And now time for...

Great Moments in OCD History: I’ve decided I will never go surfing. Granted this probably would never happen anyways, but it sure as hell won’t ever happen now. My roommate for two weeks, Travis, is a surfer and he has confirmed my worst fears about this activity. They call it the brown tide. That occasional moment when swimming through the Ocean that the water gets a dirty murky brown and they find themselves floating amongst the remains of human waste and sewage! For God’s sake, what is wrong with these people? Swimming in human filth? Not only that, but he admitted that recently a bunch of syringes were found washed ashore at one of the beaches he surfs at! Okay I understand the allure of extreme sports, the rush of parachuting or the glory of snow boarding out of a helicopter on the top of some mountain. I can see the temptation for such things. However you aren’t parachuting into a vat of syringes or snow boarding down a mountain of dung. (Would that be Mt. Crap-a-towa?) I mean seriously, can you image the horror of swimming in blue waters when all of the sudden you notice oblong, brown chunks of stuff floating by, brushing up against you? Perhaps you are surfing along, floating on a wave of feces, when you wipe out, fall in the water and it all rushes into your mouth and up your nose! I would kill myself in anxiety if something like that happened. I mean if I were to invent a form of torture, it would involve something like this. Maybe I would start water boarding with brown tidewater. Now that would be enough to make any terrorist gush in a torrent of information. It is certainly enough to keep me out of the water. Incidentally, this weekend a man was killed by a Great White shark off the coast of San Diego, giving me yet another reason to stay out of the water.

Well that is probably enough potty humor for now. I will come back with more later. Roll tide, roll.

The O.C.D.

It is a big day in New Prussia and there is much to report. (Including something that hasn’t happened in months!)

The time is 1:30 and I am listening to little except the soft breeze blowing outside the window. Romantic huh? Well for those of you who are curious I am now living in Orange County California. The O.C. Now, I have to admit that I am tempted to rename my blog The O.C.D. it is fitting after all. I was disappointed with the name Letters From the Front. I was hoping that some random blog surfer would find my blog and think "oh this must be something really in depth and thoughtful," like the musings of a young soldier in Afghanistan or Iraq coming to grips with the harsh realities of war. They start reading and realize it's not and they are like WTF? Who is this freak? What have I gotten myself into? Is there a God at all? So far that doesn't seem to have happened.
Many of you know I had been looking to get out of the conservative Bible belt, as well as some of the fake yuppie-ness of North Dallas, for some time. The irony of course, is that I moved to Orange County, the Bible belt of California, and it's impossibly more fake then Dallas. Still it is nice here, the sun is shining, the ocean is 20 minutes away, I can see the mountains from my place, palm trees sway, girls are hot and many breasts are fake. I'll be honest here, I am not an expert on breasts by any means, so I don't really know this for sure, but I am told they are. (Would this make me a boob noob?)
A look at the parking lot of a local mall reveals 3 BMW's in a row, a smattering of Lexus's (lexi?), Escalades, Porches, and other car I will never drive. Sitting next to them is my beat up Altima. It has a small dent in the driver side door, on the opposite side is a paint stain where somebody at my old Sbux spilt their drink on my car, (Or more likely, threw it at my car out of anger.) and somewhere, between here and El Paso, lies a cheap wheel cover that came off one of my tires, I love my car now more then ever now. I like to park it next to these fancy cars and quietly judge them by proxy through my Altima.
However, much like heaven, I am in a better place now. There is a lot of creativity out here and hopefully I will be more inspired. More so, it is really good to be back with my old gang, fellowshipping, hanging out, making trouble and generally having fun. I had few good friends left in Dallas and I felt I just never could fit in at Watermark, I simply wasn’t cool or handsome enough.
So far I really like the church I’m going to. It’s like a breath of fresh air breathed into the stale, dank, caverns of my soul. It is a place for misfits and dregs, normal people too. I am sure there is an “in” crowd but it doesn’t seem very dominant. They are genuinely committed to the arts, not in the half assed way many churches do, but because it is the language of our generation. Most importantly they really embrace outreach as a way of life, rather then something that is preached but the congregation really fails to act on, I am excited about it and I think good times are ahead.

Another Death in New Prussia.

It’s a glorious day in New Prussia for our old dear friend, the great equalizer of man, the grim reaper has reared his cloaked head once again. Now it has been a while since we’ve had a good old-fashioned death here and I was beginning to wonder if our pal had forgotten us altogether. Fear not, however, for he has returned in full force. Now I must admit, this is not one of my child hood TV rerun heroes as in past. In fact most of you will have not even have heard of this man, yet his influence on me has been profound. Yes, folks the great Gary Gygax, creator of Dungeon and Dragons, has passed into the great beyond. Dungeon and Dragons, the game feared everywhere by all good Christian parents and Baptists ministers. The game that brought us thinly clad elf chicks and such strange wonders as 10, 12 and even 20-sided dice. The game that inspired many Friday night adventurous that kept us chasing wizards and warlocks instead of women, followed by later Friday night runs to IHOP to bask and revel in the afterglow of our glorious adventures.
Gary, or Lord Volinar, as he was more commonly known, died a few days ago when a daemon (that’s a non-satanic demon) he summed to harness and use for his own purposes broke free of the binding spells and slew him in an epic battle. He is not completely gone however, for just as his soul was leaving this realm an evil warlock captured it and infused it in a magic crystal. Gary’s captured soul now rages as in instrument of great destruction in the hand of this warlock and it appears it will take a band of mighty adventurous to kill the warlock, smash the crystal and free Gary once and for all. (Recommended for character levels 45-50 only.)
Anyhow, Lord Volinar, Gary Gygax, we lift our mead filled gauntlets in fitting tribute to your legacy. We look forward to that glorious day when we to, may join you in the hallowed halls of Valhalla. Gary was level 69 when he died. Here is the last known picture of him:

Well that is about it for now folks. I hope things are going well with you all and I expect I will have much to report, including some Great California Moments in O.C.D. history. Later.

More Great Moments

Greetings, it is 9:00 P.M. and I am at Starbucks and listening to the Challengers by the New Pornographers. It might very well be my favorite album of the year. Very Indie pop with lots of harmonies. Now don’t get worked up in a legalistic frenzy, they are a very clean band despite the name. I will explain how they got their name later. For now it is time to bring back a long lost segment. I haven’t had a lot of big incidents in the last few months but lately there has been a mild rash of them. So without further adieu I present to you.

Great Moments in OCD History:

I have to change the trash at work all the time. I have learned to do it with minimal anxiety, except for two cans in particular, the Women’s and Men’s restroom. It exists as a safe haven for germs, bacteria and diseases everywhere. I put on a pair of pastry handling gloves as I prepare for battle. I know these gloves are a feeble defense, much like France’s defense in WW2 against the plague of Nazi Germany, but it is the best I could do. I go and change the trashes. Easy enough. However, as I carry the trashes to the back room, disaster struck. Now generally speaking the men’s restroom is far nastier then the women’s, however I submit to you that the women’s trash is far nastier then the men’s. So it was, of course, the women’s bathroom trash that came open without me realizing it, spilling its contents across the floor as I walked away. I heard laughter and turned around. Horror struck as I saw what happened and I knew it was going to be my job to clean it up. I looked at all the dirty brown paper towels strewn across the floor and to my shock noticed there was something white and neatly bundled up laying on the ground as well. Yes, a tampon, a monthly necessity to every woman out there, was lying out in plain site for OCD boy to clean up. It wasn’t nasty or anything, it was safely sealed, but non-the less, I had to get close to the damned thing. This is one part of my future wife’s life I want nothing to do with, let alone somebody else’s. I did not want to even breath the air around it, lest I accidentally inhale some random feminine hygiene germs. I mean we are talking possible STD’s here. So I go get the broom and the long handled trash scoop (I don’t know what its called but it’s the kind they use to clean movie theatres etc.) I took a deep breath and swept it all into the scoop. Then I went to the back, let out my breath, dumped it all in the trash can, tied it up and washed my hand profusely while breathing in clean safe air. Now this incident wasn’t horrible compared to some, but it was bad, and gross, and the fact it happened to me, OCD boy, is just to rich to pass up. We have one more incident to report.

During the holidays there is more desert in a two week period then there is in the entire rest of the year combined. One of these deserts was a coconut cream pie. Now I have been doing really well with my diet and had decided to take the holidays off. I happen to be a sucker for coconut cream pie (And if you are curious, you can buy a whole one at IHOP or Denny’s. It is quite economical.) Now this pie was not whole, but about ¾ whole. Somebody (my dad) had gotten into it already. It sat in a cheap aluminum pie tin. I didn’t know how cheap until I pull it out. As I turn around with pie in hands, the aluminum tin folds in half. Everything goes into slow motion. “Noooooooooooo” I yell in agony. (Actually I think I yelled Damn It!) I can see the entire pie slowly sliding out towards the floor. I lower the pan to minimize impact and to my amazement the entire pie slides out neatly onto the floor without going splat or anything. It just sat there, on the floor, mocking me. Knowing I could never eat it as a horde of fell germs swarmed there way into the pie, breading in the sweet sugar and coconut. My mom came in, saw the pie on the floor, and started cracking up. What was I to do? We managed to put the pie back into a new, stronger tin and returned it to the fridge.

Fast-forward two days, my Aunt and Uncle are in town and for dessert we have chocolate pie and coconut cream. They don’t know about the incident. My uncle orders coconut cream. I raise my eyebrows and looked suspiciously at my mom. When it came my turn to order I said, “Given prior events I’m afraid I must go with chocolate pie.” My Uncle looked at us and my mom squealed the truth out to him. He laughed. I was amazed anyone would eat it until it happened. My craving for coconut cream pie hit me. I fought it. It was a furiously epic battle between my sweet tooth and OCD. I reasoned it had been in the fridge long enough to kill any germs. I succumbed to the temptation and I ate some of it myself. I still can’t believe I did that and I eagerly awaiting the Ebola I shall surely get from the situation. For my friend Nicole who sometimes reads this, you know you’re chunky when your sweet tooth overcomes your OCD!

Well that’s about it for now. Oh yeah, how The New Pornographers got their name. Often when Jerry Fallwell opens his mouth something embarrassing to the cause of Christ comes out. One of these times he said that rock and roll was the new pornographers, hence the name of the band, The New Pornographers. They are good and I recommend you check them out. Well that’s it for now folks. Take care and next year in Berlin.

The Dangers of Playing with Fire.

The time is 10:33 P.M. and for the first time all is quiet. However I still have plenty to say. Today’s topics rage from Wildfires to online dating. I dressed up as the California Wildfires for Halloween. It was hilarious and I will post pictures on Facebook.

Speaking of wildfires I know what caused them: Sex did. You see Tom Nelson said sex is like a fire. In it’s proper place in marriage it like a warm fire in a fireplace. Outside of marriage it becomes like a wildfire that can destroy everything. Therefore, with all these fires breaking out, there must be a lot of people in California having sex outside of marriage. Which is exactly the reason I am moving there.

So my parents and a few other older couples at Firewheel Fellowship Church are now in charge of the senior adults Sunday school class. They met at our house one night to discuss the future of their class as well as what to name it. Now the people in charge of the Sunday school want them to name the class Stage 3, which I think is lame. Instead I have come up with my own list of names for the senior citizens class at church. I think my dad is actually going to read this list at their next meeting.

1. The Sanhedrin

2. Last Call

3. Redeemer Bible Church Garland.

4. Stage 12

5. Senior Moments

6. The Remnant

7. The Viagra 9

8. Sons of Methuselah

I was really surprised to learn that Methuselah and Sanhedrin were both in spell check. Who knew?

I have been really bored with pretty much everything lately (Especially Church) and so I have been messing around with free online dating services. Online dating has become very acceptable in the last few years and to be honest, it’s probably a lot better then some of the systems we have now. I do not plan on partaking in it yet, but I was curious to see what was out there. Along the way I learned a few tips I now pass on to you. Please note these are from a guy’s perspective. Sorry girls.

1. Do not place a picture of you with a friend if your friend is hotter then you. What follows is the thought process for us guys…”DAMN! She’s hot!” then we realize that is the friend, not you and it’s “damn, it’s a friend.” Then we become friends with you just to reach your hot friends, which creates one big mess. It’s just all around a bad idea.

2. Naming your self. Ok you have to pick a name and some subtitle but it seems many girls do not understand the art to this. If you put a name like BTCHGODDESS or TXBTCH, which I have seen, no guy in his right mind will message you. Very few guys think “oh sweet! A total bitch that will be egotistical, selfish and treat me like crap! Just what I wanted!” Usually we look for kind loving gals.

3. Alternately, do not name yourself TOTALHOTTIE4U or HOTNTXS, if you are not a total hottie. It just isn’t cool and no one will take you seriously. Plus liars go to hell.

4. Some of these women scare guys off before we even see your profile. Phrases like ‘lonely and looking” “Awake at night dreaming” “Desperate for Mr. Right” and other phrases just smack of emotional instability and to many episodes of Oprah. Very few guys want to jump into a co-dependent relationship and no guys have subtitles reading: “looking for lonely and desperate.”

5. Here is another bit of advice. Most of these profiles include comments about how these women want to be treated seriously and with respect. However, the first thing you see is their profile picture with tons of cleavage hanging out everywhere in a low cut shirt, spaghetti strap shirt with high cut mid-rift as well. Yeah, nothing say treat me with respect like showing off your body to a guy to get attention.

6. Don’t mention that you just got out of a relationship. I have read some that actually say, “Just broke with boyfriend of _ years. Looking to date etc…” Yeah, REALLY healthy signals your sending there princess.

Speaking of which, don’t call yourself a princess either. While you may deserve to be treated like one, it comes across as pretty arrogant to be calling yourself that. I know, I call myself a Czar, but that is totally different.

Now there is an issue that is absolutely demanding to be dealt with in my blog next week. It has risen to a crisis level and I cannot ignore it any longer. I speak of course of the broadcast refuse known as Dancing with the Stars. Until then, look for me online as LONELYHOTCZAR4U.