My Fantasy Allison

Allison is, in a word, wonderful. For the last week she and I have been texting. The day after I met her she woke me with a text, Good Morning! Every day since then she texts me throughout the day. I enjoy our brief conversations. Though limited by characters and the lack of a true QWERTY pad, I do my best to let on that I'm interested. However, I do my best to leave out the desperation. Sunday night she asked if I'd like to go out with her. Absolutely, I sent. A week, and we'd have a date.

I started making plans for Sunday right away. When she learned that I had worked in intelligence before, she mentioned how much she wanted to visit the International Spy Museum. I purchased two tickets for the museum, as well as the silly little adventure they run. That had to be at least a little fun, and if it was cheesy I could play it off and enjoy it on a cheesy level. When she asked me what I was thinking for the day, I hinted, Top Secret. I don't want to be cryptic, but I expect you to love it.

For an entire week Allison and I chatted throughout most of the day. The more I talked to her, the more I liked her. Finally, here was a girl who challenged me. Here was a girl that not only kept up, but also surpassed me. Being a nerd, I take great pride in my own intellect. I might not be a large butch guy, I might not ever win an arm wrestling competition, but damnit, I was smart at least. That being said, none of the girls I've dated in the past were particularly bright. Honestly, they were never smart enough, and sooner or later we'd run out of things to talk about. Allison was different from all the girls before. Maybe she was special.

I kept an eye on the worsening weather. A large blizzard of record size was to hit the area around Friday, and if it didn't clear by Saturday our plans would be ruined. Luckily, after the predicted snowfall of about 2 feet, the sun was out and shining the next day! Tomorrow, I thought, tomorrow is the day. If I wanted to see Allison again after tomorrow, the date would have to be sublime.

Early Sunday morning I woke and put on layers of clothing. Half yawning, drudged to my car with a shovel and a brush. An hour later and my car was clear enough to leave the street. I walked back into the house, and as soon as I showered my phone chirped. I think I caught a cold, it read. I have a fever. I texted Allison back, asking how she felt. She felt awful, it seemed. We wouldn't be able to go out today.

I spent a few more minutes making sure that she was ok, that someone was taking care of her. I offered to come down and bring soup. She asked for a raincheck on our date, sometime before Christmas. Of course, I said. Just get better.

As I shut my phone my sinking heart suddenly was caught in my throat. That seems to be the luck in my dating. I mulled over the conversations we've had. She usually wrote me first. She's the one who suggested our Sunday date. She didn't seem to be the type of person to make up excuses, plus she asked for a raincheck and offered a day as well. Maybe she really did like me, she just actually got sick with very bad timing.

I sat back, and thought about what was happening. Did I expect for her to fall in love with me? I realized that I had turned Allison into a fantasy person. I had turned this into a silly movie in my head. I was to woo the beautiful woman and things would be perfect. I remembered a tattoo I had permanently inked into my skin. I had gotten it before being stationed overseas. It was a gift to my then very serious girlfriend. Melinda, it said. My first love. My first heartbreak. Now, when I looked in the mirror its meaning changed completely. Mistake, it whispers to me. Falling in love too quickly, too blindly was a mistake. Not again.

Dating isn't perfect. It's not like the movies. Setbacks happen, and sometimes they never get fixed. Some couple will never be, no matter how perfect they seem, or how hard you cheer. I decided to take it easy. I may not be Hugh Grant, but I still have something to offer. I'm still a desirable person, I decided. If things happen, I'd be happy to enjoy them, but I won't stress over every misstep.

So, I'll continue to talk to Allison. I'll keep chatting with Erin. I'm going to keep looking and meeting people. If nothing ever happens, so be it. If I'm alone for a year, two years, what's the rush? There's someone out there that's going to be perfect for me, and she'll be beautiful and intelligent and witty and amazing. And she'll think the same of me.

If Allison wants to go on a date again, though, I won't say no.

Wonderful

Sometimes, the stars line up, and the world seems to ring in perfect harmony. The universe aligned yesterday, and I met a girl. She was an artist, painting in deep hues of red and yellow. My heart was her canvas.


"Come on out, Chrispy. It'll be a good time."

That was all the reason I needed. After the big first date with Erin I was excited. The day had gone swimmingly, and I was home with enough time to spare. I could stay home the rest of the evening, catching up on my cleaning, checking out what Anthony Bourdain was eating. Or, I could do what other young people do on a Saturday night and find a place with cheap booze and loud music.

I jumped in my car.

At 9 PM I arrived at Sam's apartment. Sam was a good friend of mine from a few years back. He was a talented photographer. Due to my recent research into fashion and clothing as well as our grand shopping trip, he was also a snazzy dresser. We headed out to his friend's party into the brisk chill night. Like me, Sam was prior military. Like me, he loved cartoons from Japan and video games. He was also single, but I didn't get the feeling that he was looking as hard as I was. Sam seemed like a consummate bachelor. Tall, thick and handsome, Sam looked every part the military man that I did not. However, I think it was our differences that made our friendship so enjoyable.

We walked up to our destination and I could instantly tell by looking what sort of night we had in store. A girl looked up on unsteady legs, perched at the edge of a clump of bushes in the lawn, "Hey Sam!" She was falling all over herself. We walked through the doors, into the dim blaring room. This, I thought, was a fucking party.

The one room I could see was devoid of furniture. In the place of what might have been a couch, or a television, or even a coffee table of some sort was a pile of dancing boys and girls. A little younger than me, I judged from their clothes and haircuts. Maybe they were just trendier and more hipster than I was prepared for. There was a keg in the corner as well as a suspicious plastic tub filled with a red liquid labeled only as "Juice." I knew I would be avoiding that.

Sam and I walked into the room, and instantly I was in party mode. Now, seriously, I am a shy person. It's rare for me to be able to handle an entire room of strangers, but I felt like I could take on a viking horde that night. I had Erin's kiss to thank for that. I jumped right into my "fake it til you make it."

My technique is simple. If I'm with friends, I have them introduce me to people they know. The night was a perfect oppurtunity for it since Sam knew almost everyone there. He'd say his hellos, and I'd introduce myself. I'd do my best to remember their names. It doesn't matter that I suck at names, or that I would probably completely forget their names in the course of the night, I still did my best. Often, I would repeat it over and over in conversation. "Is that right, Drew? Tell me more, Drew."

Once I had the name, I could work on building a conversation. This part worried me. Well, worried me more than talking to total strangers. I still found it hard to keep a conversation going, and I'm deathly frightened of lulls and silence. What I've learned to do is to let the other person talk. People love talking about themselves, so I tried my best to steer the conversation to a safe personal subject.

Now, after a couple of minutes, I could politely excuse myself from the conversation and find someone else to introduce myself to. I would learn their names, chat with them, and move on again. I try and get as many names and as much face time as I can. There's a reason for this jumping around, though. As people walk around, I can spot someone I had met previously and pull them into an already existing conversation. "Hey, Drew, come over here. Have you met Sasha?" Now instead of two, I would be talking to three, and I'd suddenly have plenty of opportunities to say something interesting. If I don't have anything, the conversation will go on regardless.

The beauty is that everyone sees me making friends and chatting it up.

At least, that's what I hope happens. Luckily for me, that night everything was working fine. I was chatting it up, memorizing names, getting to know people. I would go from one conversation to another without blinking. "You know Sam?" I'd ask complete strangers, "My name is Chris. I'm his image consultant." For a good while I went like this, meeting all sorts of new people. I completely forgot my awkwardness. I was dealing with my anxiety. I was having fun.

Then, a girl and I crossed paths. Even in the din and hustle of the party I could tell she was a beauty. I prepared my winningest smile and introduced myself. I shook her hand. Allison. I told her my silly icebreaker about Sam's image and my consulting. (He was even kind enough to stop by and confirm, then promptly leave.) She laughed at my jokes, and I smiled at her stories.

I realized that I wasn't running out of conversation. I naturally held it up, eager to hear what she had to say next. I was at such ease with her. It was perfectly natural for us to be standing amidst the raging party. We were an eye in the storm. I didn't need to suddenly leave. I never ran out of things to say. I felt like I was talking to a friend I hadn't seen in years.

I don't know how long I stood there talking to her before Sam interrupted. "We're ditching this party," he shook me out of my reverie, "we're going to a bar where there's some alcohol." Shit, I thought. Here I was having a fantastic time. As I was trying to quickly figure out how to get her number to call later she asked, "Can I come along?"

Fuck yes.

Sam, Allison, and I, as well as three of his other friends walked four blocks to a local bar. We sat at a table in the corner, and started ordering drinks. "Let me get your number in my cell," she asked me as our glasses arrive. I told her and glanced down as my phone chirped. Hey hey spy, she had texted me. "There," she smiled, "You are saved."

As much as I try to remember what else we talked about, I couldn't tell you. I remember her eyes. I remember her laughter. I remember my friends getting up to smoke, and leaving the two of us alone at the table, completely absorbed in our conversation. There was Allison, there was me, and there was nothing else in the world except for that dark wooden table and our two drinks.

What struck me the most about Allison was her own geekiness. Not in the same way as mine. She didn't seem to have fantasy books, sci-fi, comics, or video games. Instead, she was geeky about art. She was nerding about horseback riding. She knew of traveling and the world. She was enthusiastic about a myriad of interests, and her passion was inspiring. She was, in a word, interesting.

For an hour, maybe a hundred, we talked about everything. I missed missed offers for rounds. I missed shots. I missed final call. When "No really, this is final call," came around we were still talking. Our friends returned from their fourth or fifth cigarette and we finally noticed. We all left the bar and walked to a metro station. Instead of letting her take the underground, I offered to drive her home. On the walk to my car we continued to talk. In my car, as my GPS spat directions at me, we talked some more. Finally, completely too soon, I arrived at her apartment and dropped her off. She wouldn't let me walk her to the door. "It's too cold. Stay warm," she told me. I hugged her, and told her we should meet again.

Four blocks away my cell phone chirped. You were wonderful. Goodnight, Chris.



I felt wonderful.

My First Date

I took Erin out on a date. It was my first real date in three or four years.

Honestly, I was afraid that I wouldn't know how. I didn't even go through a courtship with Caitlin. We just saw each other, and one day we decided to become exclusive. There were never any flowers and chocolate, really, just days of growing into one another, until we were more comfortable with each other than with ourselves.

Real dates aren't as easy. I was a nervous wreck as I pulled up to Erin's door. We had decided to meet for brunch. I had a cute crepe place in mind, and I presented the idea the week before. I didn't really know what to expect. I had been talking to Erin for a couple of weeks by now. I knew that she seemed very sweet. She went to bed by 9PM every night to get in a full 8 hours of sleep. She liked to cook, but didn't have anyone to cook for. Erin had a BA but didn't really know what she wanted to do with her life. She seemed life a nice, average, sweet girl, and I felt like I needed something like that to get me back on my feet.

When Erin walked out the door, she was exactly as I had expected from talking to her and seeing her pictures. That was a relief. The worst thing I could imagine would have been if she was much bigger than her photos suggested. I know that is shallow, and I feel bad for thinking it, but it's just something that I would not be attracted to. Luckily, Erin, in a word, cute. My sized. Her smile would quickly flash and slowly dissolve any of my trepidation.

We had a date. After our crepes, she decided to go to the aquarium. After we were done looking at fishes she bought me some biscotti and a cannoli. I broguht her back home, where she mentioned that it was too cold to walk to the supermarket. I stepped up and offered to take her. We returned to her apartment with groceries, and as I was leaving she gave me a kiss.

I walked back to my car a bit stunned. I don't know what I did, but I did it right.

Honestly, I had a good time with Erin. She was very nice, but I'm not sure if she's the person for me. I plan to see her a couple more times before I decide anything, though. There's nothing wrong with simply enjoying the company of a good person.


By the time I got home, I ran through the day's events through my head several time. I felt awesome, I was officially over the hump, and on my way. Suddenly, I remembered my friend Sam's offer to go to a party later that night. I still had plenty of time, so I called him up. "I'm coming out to DC to party with you," I told him. I was going to ride the wave, take advantage of my positive day, and go tear it up.

To be continued...

Maybe internet dating isn't so bad.

I've begun to chat with a girl from an internet dating website. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on it?

When I think of the time and effort I put into my profile, though, it upsets me a little that she messaged me out of the blue, but then I realize that I'm talking to a new person who isn't a scam bot, is around my age, and wishes to go out on a date. Nice!

Her name is Erin, and she's from Pittsburgh. As a newcomer to the East Coast, I don't really know much about Pittsburgh, except that it's north and very cold. She's in Baltimore teaching and dislikes her job. Hopefully, she says, she'll return to school and get a masters in sociology.

While we chatted, I tried to stick to a few simple rules. 1) Do not ask anything personal. I get very interested in the people I meet, and sometimes I might broach a little too hard. I didn't want to come off as creepy right off the bat, so I pretended to be a little aloof. 2) Do not mention sex. Seriously, this is super important. It takes all my energy not to start joking about body parts and intercourse, but I realized that's not pleasant from a stranger. I had to stop myself more than once from replying with a quick "That's what she said." No! That's not what she said! She said goodbye, before I could even make that joke about the two nuns!

This brings me to my last and most important rule of online chatting. 3) Be normal. I was constantly tempted to give her way too much crazy information about myself. I wanted to tell her about my difficult break-up, just a month ago. I wanted to let her know how crappy I was feeling, how low my self esteem was. I wanted to tell her that I still thought of my ex, and that I couldn't imagine that any girl was going to be half as beautiful as Caitlin was. But I left those topics alone.

It's difficult, talking to new people. Especially people you might be interested in. I have to pretend to be some sanitary version of myself. I have to scrub down my personality and history to just the aspects that I want to impress. In this way, I think that dating is a dance of half people. We hide ourselves until the last possible moment, when it's too late for them to dance away and reject us.

We'll see, Erin. I'm going to continue to talk to her, and maybe we'll hit it off. I hope this goes in good directions. It's at least a first step.

Is she shy?

Rachelle stopped coming to class.

The last we spoke was two weeks ago. She mentioned her modeling job. I told her about my trips to Europe while stationed at the UK. She was genuinely interested about my Air Force career, but most people are. I don't think I fit the conceived notion of a military man. When a person says "former military" the first thing that usually pops into peoples' minds is an image of a tall, buzzed white man with bulging muscles and a bad-ass attitude. I'm not that man. Instead, I'm short, skinny, boyish looking asian guy, quick to smile and laugh. People tell me that I put them at ease, which I suppose accounts for why I sometimes almost feel social when at parties or group situations.

I never thought of myself as a confident person. In fact, I've always struggled with my shyness. Whenever I spent too much time with people I became very stressed and needed to be alone. I could only handle so much socializing, and almost became a shut-in. In high-school, I never really had a tight circle of friends. Instead, I flit around from one group to another, leaving whenever I felt uncomfortable. I had two best friends who I saw every so often, but I never really hung out with their group either.

In the Air Force, I recognized that I had a new chance to be a more social person, so I took steps to being more outgoing. I understood that my weakness was building a relationship, so I did my best to be around my new dorm mates. In fact, this was easily the best place to put myself. We worked together, lived together, even worked-out and played team sports together. When the week was over, we'd finish by drinking and partying together. It was very satisfying to be a part of a group rather than being by myself all the time.

Over the two years, though, people slowly left. Deploying or simply changing stations, each of us went our separate ways across continents. I left for the desert one day, and when I returned there were all new faces. My circle of friends seemingly dissipated overnight.

Since then, in the last three years, I've worked very hard on my confidence and social skills. I didn't want to be that guy in the corner by himself at parties anymore. I kept repeating my new strategy, "Fake it til you make it." I figured out that most people were nervous as well. They didn't know how to meet strangers either. I used this to my advantage by offering a lifeline at parties. I could approach someone, introduce myself, and for the rest of the night they have someone to stop by and chat with. This way someone was always talking to me, and I could pretend I was the life of the party. Ultimately, this mantra would slowly be forgotten and I would become uncomfortable over the night. I'd finally end up in the corner, as usual, but I felt like I had accomplished something.

Today, I was sitting in class when Rachelle sat down next to me and smiled, "Hello." In a few moments we were back on track talking about ourselves. It was just simple conversation, but I knew I didn't need to feel shy. Whether or not this went somewhere, I could just enjoy the company during another boring class. I didn't have to fake it anymore.

Anime Convention Weekend (Part II)

The first part of this post can be found here.


Saturday night I was hanging out in the hotel bar with my friends. They kept bringing over their friends, and as the evening wore on I suddenly was surrounded by a huge group of people, half I knew, half I didn't. I did my best to chat with each of them, learn their names, get to know a bit. On the other side of the table, a waitress brought my good friend a huge platter of nachos. Funny, I thought, I happen to be craving a nacho or two right now. I stood up, out of my seat, and took the one next to him. After I shoveled a few bites directly into my stomach, I noticed a cute girl sitting on the other side of me. As I glanced over, she looked me in the eye and smiled. Shit. Now's the time! Swallowing, I offered her my hand and my name. "Hi, I'm Chris." She took it. Her name was Katrina.

Kat was wearing what was instantly recognizeable as rave gear. Though it wasn't a character, she was distinctly in costume. A dance-in-a-dark-room-with-strangers sort of costume. It was dark and Hot-Topic-edgy; a red-plaid skirt cut short to allow maximum bareness, a day-glo bikini-top, a tight fishnet shirt over. I didn't even know they made those. Still, it was all oddly complimented by her adorable features.

We spoke for an hour. The people around us were a blur. For the first time since the break-up only a month earlier, I was simply enjoying the pleasure of good conversation with a pretty girl. As the night wore on, I became more comfortable, more at ease with myself. An hour and a half of sitting and she finally mentioned what I was dreading. She had a boyfriend.

I don't know why I felt so used. This girl was very obviously interested. She pretty much waved off all her friends as they left us. She had touched my arm several times, laughed at my jokes, teased and batted her eyes. Maybe she was interested after all, and decided to leave our her significant other as long as she could handle. After that, though, the conversation started to fall flat. I felt a bit guilty but also bit peeved as we hugged and parted ways.

The rest of the night was enjoyable, but I kept thinking about that conversation. Did I do something wrong? I'm sure that I was polite and charming, and up until she mentioned her boy we seemed to be hitting it off. Ultimately, I decided that it wasn't my fault for what happened. I should still enjoy the company of interesting people without any ulterior motive. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed meeting new interesting women.

I realized then that the excitement is in the chase. I needed to forget about coming out on top, as it were, and instead enjoy the entire journey. I hope that through this blog you all can enjoy my journey as well.

Caitlin and I (Part I)

After the break-up, we did our best to continue living together. It was difficult at times. Neither of us were sure which roles we should play. We were still friends, but lovers? With our one shared bed, one shared bath, shared EVERYTHING, we ended up being the same as before our break-up.

Yet things were not the same. We had agreed that we could try to be friends with benefits. We were still best friends, and as I tried my best to come to terms with the split, I ended up turning to her for the comfort she had given me for the last two years. I cried about her into her shoulder, and we were happy to hold each other.


When I first met Caitlin, she was quite different than the person she came to be. Young, fresh-faced, and much less innocent. She somehow seemed much older than her actual years. What struck me was how tall and pretty she was. I was never quite attracted to girls who were much bigger than me, and she was what some would call a "chubby girl." However, her beauty caught my breath. We were both in costume at a friend's caveman-theme party (before the annoying Geiko commercials). I was stepping out of the bathroom in my loin-cloth costume when she saw me and told me how cute I was. Within the first few hours she had her tongue down my throat. I wasn't quite prepared for aggressive women. "I'd totally bone you," she whispered late that night, "but my friend Rich is coming to pick me up later."

After that party, I didn't see her or hear from her again. Looking back, I don't think I thought of her very much aside from the pleasant making-out session. I mostly remembered her raven long hair, her flawless porcelain skin, and how soft her lips were on mine. I'd smile at my thoughts, and promptly continue on with my day.

Months later, our lives crashed together. She was a hurricane and I was a quiet seashore town. At Katsucon (another anime convention I was partying at) we randomly ended up with the same group of friends. After drinking and partying it up a bit (a lot), I found myself in her bed in the middle of the night. I was drunk on her smile and the tequila. She was a beauty that night. I was surprised again by the force of her personality. She wasn't coy or shy. She didn't apologize for the sexuality that she oozed. She simply grabbed me by my neck and manhandled me onto a rollercoaster night of pleasure.

The next morning, I awkwardly woke and returned to my room, doing my best not to wake her. I wasn't sure exactly what to do at that point, so I simply left as quietly as I could. I was torn. This girl was amazing, but I was intimidated by her bold come-ons. I couldn't see myself spending time with just a pretty face. Actually, I didn't think she was a slut for having sex with me so quickly. She admitted that she was very attracted to asian men, and told me that she thought I was handsome. It was simply too much too fast for me. After my shower, I stepped back into my friend's hotel room and came face-to-face with her, again.

Honestly, I don't remember the details of what happened after this. She came with my friends and me as we walked around the convention. She had breakfast with us. Finally, we ended up alone, her and I, in a crowd of people milling about. As we waited for our friends to return, we ended up talking. We chatted about normal things people chat about. I learned about her family and friends, she heard about my traveling and work. We talked about all the things that interested us. She told me about how much of a geek she was, which surprised me. All the while, I felt completely comfortable with her. Refreshingly honest, she talked about her dreams and what she wanted to accomplish. She told me about the things that brought her here to this place with me. I felt like she opened up for me more on that hotel lobby floor than she had the night before.

After an hour, I didn't even notice when my friends returned. I had been thoroughly engrossed with the conversation. As we stood up to part ways, I realized how sweet she was. This girl was honest, caring, and humble. In short, she was lovely.

I saw Caitlin a few more times after that. The days we didn't see one another we'd call each other on the phone, talking late into the night. When we did meet, she'd take the train down from Philly to DC and we'd spend weekends together. Most of our activities were committed to the bedroom, shared in pleasure and comfort. Sometimes we'd play games together. We might eat out or cook for ourselves. Then, she'd take the train back to her life while I prepared for the week ahead.

Finally, I asked her to be mine. "Would you like to change your profile to say 'In an exclusive relationship?'" My heart pounded in my throat.

She looked into my eyes, "Absolutely. Yes." -March 10, 2008.

Online Dating is for the Birds

The geek in me is drawn to online dating like its legendary loot. All I need is one good day of writing, I told myself, and I'd have a perfect profile to woo all sorts of sexy, available women. On the internet.

That right there had a few glitches. First, I'm really not all that clever. Sure, I can imagine as easily as I'm writing here that I'll put together strings of words that will both cause the viewer to laugh at my daring wit, but will also interest her to simply stop what she's doing and write me only for the pleasure of picking my brain. Reality illustrated how wrong I was. I didn't realize that short essays were the staple of these sites, and suddenly I had flashbacks to my poor SAT Writing scores. Well, those wouldn't be able to save me now. I decided to instead focus on my winning personality.

"Describe yourself," the prompt suggested, "500 chars or less." What struck me was how breezy the entire thing was. Like it was asking for a glass of water. Chilled with three ice cubes, 500 chars or less. If I was to be honest, my dating site would read much like a primer on the Unibomber. "Stays at home," it would warn, "Basement living quarters. Leaves to eat and in case of internet disconnection. Allergic to sunshine and law enforcement."

Surely, I would have to use a different tack. "Agreeable!" I wrote hoping that the exclamation would make it exciting. I looked at the screen and instantly backspaced the whole thing. "Friendly!" too, made me look boring again, as did "Fun!" I didn't even type out Nice! as that seemed to me a death kiss. I wanted something a little edgy and mysterious, so I finally settled on "Will probably not fight you!" I decided to keep the exclamation.

After my profile was completed, I browsed the entire world of eager women. Luckily, most the websites could narrow the search down to just those close to me. Of my neighbors, I picked an age range near my own. If there was an option, I would have checked "Easy" but none was available. This part of online dating leads to my second problem. I quickly learned that there's an art to reading profiles as well as writing. There are several clues to look out for. Curvy was a red flag. It meant fat. Don't get me wrong, there are fat girls I would be interesting, but I prefer if the girls I were to pick up were trim. I'm personally quite scrawny, so I always feel uncomfortable with very large women. Another red flag were pictures which showed only part of the face from a strange angle. This also probably meant fat. Then, there were the profiles with girls too pretty that screamed "I'm easy, so message me and come get some!" These were always scammers. Nothing was more disappointing than e-mailing one extremely attractive girl who seemed very nice and approachable in her profile, only to be awarded with a link to a sign-up site.

Ultimately, after editing my profiles for many days, choosing the perfect profile pictures to share, and searching through girls for a perfect match, my search has still be unrewarded. My final problem is that all the available women just ignore my comments and messages. I just think that these are all places where infinitely more attractive people are meeting other attractive people and having lots of sex. Of course, this leaves average "oh, you're kinda cute" me sitting alone on my computer. These attempts have basically been an exercise in finding more porn, I suppose, since they've all led there anyways.

Anime Convention Weekend (Part I)

This weekend tried my best to enjoy myself at Anime USA.

If you know what an anime convention is then you're probably aware that it's full of very young people dressed up as outrageous cartoon characters walking about and posing for nerdy camera-men. Unlike other geek-related conventions, which are as nerdy but full of harmless activities, an anime convention seems like nothing more than a farce, hiding the huge amounts of drinking and partying under the guise of "family friendly" activities. That's not to say that people go to these conventions to only drink and party, but I certainly do.

Anime USA (or, AUSA for those in the know) has always been a good time. Though I'm not particularly a fan of japanese animation, many of my friends certainly are. When they all come to town for a weekend, I learned that the cost of a shared hotel room for two nights is petty cash compared to the amount of partying I can rack up. I can put a few of these on my calendar, and the slow buildup the weeks leading to the event ultimately explodes into an incredible weekend reunion. For two, maybe three days, we're all stuck with each other in one hotel, hanging out, chatting, drinking, and dining together.

I was looking forward to this particular AUSA because of The Breakup and Move. A week after I began unpacking, I set aside a small luggage and drove to the hotel. Friends, fun, an escape from the thoughts that had been following me. I needed a distraction. Looking back, most of the weekend was a blur. I was just swept along by the personalities of old acquaintances. We all reconnected and filled each other in on our lives. Lunch, zoom. Dinner, zoom. Hotel bar, zoom! Drinking in the rooms, zoom! Meeting new people, ZOOM! Everything was a rose-tinted haze. Exactly what I needed.

More than the partying, though, what I needed was practice. A month and a half, yet I really still hadn't been on the hunt. My confidence was generally running on fumes. I felt like this was the perfect opportunity to talk to some girls and work up the self-esteem I had lost. Anime conventions are generally filled with nerds who just want attention. What's hard about talking to girls here, where they're walking around, hoping they'll get stopped for photos of their Chibichansailorchu?

For one, everything. When did talking become so hard? I never considered myself to be shy, but the whole weekend I felt like a ghost. I'd shadow my old friends, introduce myself to their friends, respond to any questions in five or less words. Was this how it's done? I didn't seem to be getting anywhere. I certainly wasn't chasing down pretty tail like I had imagined all week. Girls weren't jumping all over me, despite the distinct advantage I had of a new, sexier wardrobe. What was I doing wrong? By Saturday morning, I boxed my fantasies and decided to just enjoy myself. No need to work myself up.

Friends and Furniture

I'm officially moved into my new pad.

It's been quite difficult getting into my new place. The old place was a bottom floor of a house. The second floor was a different apartment with an entirely separate entrance way, so we had the space for ourselves with no unwelcome guests. It was a beautiful one bedroom, with a full kitchen and bath, hardwood floors, and a fireplace. In the last year, the girl who broke my heart and I had made it our home. Together.

She moved two weeks before me. Faster than I expected, surprisingly, she packed all her belongings and moved. I was suddenly alone in a home that was too quiet, too large, too empty for my thoughts. When I woke in the mornings, the familiar creaks and groans of the house were now eerie and hostile. I went to sleep every night in a cold bed. I was a stranger in my own house, it seemed.

When I finally moved I was at once relieved and anxious. I walked into my old home, strangely small and at the same time too enormous. In the empty bare walls of my former home I felt both strangled and stretched thin. How did my life suddenly change so quickly? Life had taken a turn for the worst, it seemed.

My friends saved me. They showed up on moving day, helping to load and unload my furniture and possessions into the truck. They assembled my new furniture with me. They kept me going and distracted me when I felt like collapsing. People I haven't talked to in months showed up at my door, ready to lend a hand.

Suddenly, I realized that the people in my past lives were calling. People who had heard of the breakup had been calling me, offering me a hand when I needed it. I had talked to many of my old friends on the phone. People from 3000 miles away messaged me. I wasn't as alone as I had thought. The one dim flames suddenly burned bright with dozens of people I though I'd lost connection to.

Finally, I sat on my newly constructed bed, fresh sheets smelling of detergent. Boxes were piled around me. My new home began to creak and moan, and I felt at ease for once since the break-up. Here I was. I realized that with my friends around me, I could never really be alone. Finally, I began to heal.

Clothes and Shopping

My wardrobe is shrinking. It took me a few days, but I sorted through everything, trying to get rid of the junk. I had too many t-shirts. The piles weren't as pathetic as I expected. There weren't endless folded-up black tees with cartoons of videogames. Considering this, I believe I've been doing pretty well. Still, a t-shirt with a cartoon isn't a fashion choice, no matter what decade that cartoon came from.

Today, I went shopping at the mall. Two hours and $300 later, I bought several jackets, coats, and trousers. I'm trying to move away from a Tee-a-Day look and more towards shirts and slacks. Gone are my giant carpenter jeans, replaced with grey and black slacks. Adios Konami Code Hoodie (Up Up Down Down Left Right Left Right B A) to be replaced with sports coats and wool jackets. Scarves are accessories, and not a D20 necklace.

How far do I take this? I've begun to sell my games, keeping only a handful. I'm changing my look. Do I throw away all my geeky activities? Get rid of my board games? Hide my PC and consoles? Do I start drinking Natty Ice and watching football and giving high fives to big guys in polo shirts? I want to be myself, but no one gives my self any attention.

What a shame....

Rachelle has a boyfriend. Of course she does. She's beautiful and clever, so it shouldn't be a surprise to me, right?

We've been talking during our Monday, Wednesday, and Friday classes. Sometimes, we'll exchange a few words before the lecture begins. She's 19. Knows French, studying Arabic. I'm 23, honorably discharged. She bought a new Saab. A blue convertible. I flew to Atlanta to hang out with friends. Sometimes, she shows up late for class, and we can't get time to say anything. Some days we ignore each other until the very end, where I'll throw out a "See you later!" before rushing out the door. To where, exactly? I don't have class afterward.

Other times, she's there, waiting for me. My normal seat will be empty. As I sit, she will smile at me and offer a "hello." We might chat for 10 minutes while the class fills in. We'll talk about anything at all. I say her name, "Rachelle," during the conversation, looking her in the eyes while smiling. She'll smile back and look me in the eyes as well. Then, too soon, the professor will start his droning, and our sweet conversation will drift off as we scramble for pens and notebooks.

Still, she has a boyfriend.

The Lady-Killer

There's a girl.

In one of my classes, she sits next to me. Actually, when the semester started, I began to notice her across the room. She had long, dark hair. I noticed her cute top. Specifically, I noticed that she was wearing a cute top over her large breasts. One day, I decided to take the seat next to her. It took my two more classes before I could work up the nerve to introduce myself. I ran it through my head several times.
"This class is painfully bland," through the side of my mouth, "If you need someone to poke you awake, my name is Chris." She'd smile at me and introduce herself, falling in love with my wit.
"I need coffee to keep me awake," I could say, "Want to grab some with me?" She'd smile at me and we would fall in love over two steaming lattes in the library.
"Hi, I'm Chris," I finally spat at her. She sat down and smiled, "Rachelle," shaking my hand.

It's a start. Rachelle.

Out with the old...

Today, I've jumped in with my first official steps toward dating. I'm selling my toys.

I listed most of my XBox 360, Wii, and DS games. Where they sat lovingly on my shelf, organized by genre and title, there now is an empty space on my shelf. The hole of dust in that one spot is unnerving. I decided that I didn't have time to go back and finish the games I hadn't beaten or to replay the ones I had. Instead, the games I enjoyed so thoroughly will fund my attempt to entertain and impress. Instead of impressing my friends with my gamerscore, though, I'll impress some ladies. Hopefully.

It's funny how hundreds of hours of my life can be reduced to a few brown paper packages. I hope these go to a good home.

I'm Single, Geeky, and Horny. Surprised?

My name is Chris and I'm a horny geek.

God, it feels good to admit what I've just said. I've been a geek all my life, and I've tried to run from it. I paint miniature figures. I've built my own desktop computer. Most of my travel destinations are to conventions where I can hang out with my geek friends. I have a Shadow Priest. I own an R2D2 trash can. I can 5 star expert songs on Rock Band.

I'm recently single.

My girlfriend broke up, and now I'm alone and horny. I've spent more time masturbating this week than playing video games. Usually that ratio swings the other way. Now, I'm going to try and date again, something I'm horribly frightened of. It doesn't help that I'm poor, boring and nerdy. I'd much rather spend time shanking dumb Sniper and Heavies on my rig than going out to meet girls, but I've decided to bite the bullet. I'd rather be humiliated than lonely right now, so I hope things go well. Wish me luck!