Friday, November 24, 2006

MySpace and the over-30 non-predator

A couple of months ago my good friend SC decided Santa Barbara wasn't exciting enough for her and came to the megalopolis of Tehachapi for a wild night out. Yes, she has issues but that's another story...

We did the usual...Girl talk over the best margaritas in town (Domingo's), followed by a jaywalk/run across Hwy 202, a scramble down a wall, and across the parking lot to McGuire's Pub for some pool and drinks.

As always happens when SC and I go out, we met some boys. They were cute and young (26 and 27 I think). We all got to conversing and playing doubles and somehow the topic of MySpace came up. I was shocked that SC would have a MySpace page, especially at her age (41). Both the boys we were playing pool with had them too. I, Glib Gal, not-so-famous blogger, was the only person without a MySpace page. They all had a good time making fun of me for it. I honestly thought it was only for teens and sexual predators posing as teens in hope of landing a spot on Dateline. SC claimed it was a good way to keep up with her kids (two teenagers) and find old friends from high school. Intrigued, I looked it up.

I checked around and learned that several of my friends have these pages. Never one to be left behind or mocked for not having a teeny-bopperesque website, I created a page. Don't worry, you won't find it unless you know my true identity. Yes, kind of like Batman...

Don't worry, this story is going somewhere. Really, it is.

So last week I get this e-mail from a friend from the local writer's group:
Hi someone saw your myspace page and wants to meet you. He works with K (writer's group) here is his name and number CW 8**-****, I told her to tell him your a bit busy but he'd really like to hear from you.
Mind you, I have no idea who this CW is, or how he found my MySpace page, or why he didn't e-mail me through the MySpace message service.

Of course, I called K to get the scoop. She said she was at work and was talking to another co-worker, M, about me - trying to set us up or something (no, I did not know she was pimping me out). As she was talking about me this other guy she works with, CW, popped his head up from his cubicle and joined in the conversation. He then rattled off some stuff about me as if he knew me, admitted to knowing about my MySpace page, and decided that if anyone in the office was going to be set up with me, it should be him. In true pimp-like fashion, K took his number and gave it to someone to e-mail to me.

At first I was pretty shocked and found it quite odd that someone had been lurking on my MySpace page. Then I wondered why he wouldn't just e-mail me through the service. Then K said she thought it was kismit or some cosmic thing that his number would find his way to me through her trying to set my up with someone else.

So now I don't know what to think...I looked him up on MySpace and he has a very blank page. He's 44 and an engineer. K says he's attractive and fit (rides his bike to work during summer) but shy and keeps to himself. I don't know whether to call him or not. Can't decide if it's weird or just how things work these days? And it's a holiday weekend and I'm bored. And we all know where boredom leads me - straight into blogworthy material!

Any thoughts? Oh, and if you know my real name and have a page, shoot me a message and let's be friends.

Oh, and I hope your turkey day was nice or at least better than the most bizarre Thanksgiving ever.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

You know it's going to be a good weekend when...

...You are off to a late start on your road trip because you can't find your handcuff keys and riding crop.

Headed up to the 69th run of the San Luis Obispo Hash House Harriers on Saturday to see some old friends and just have some fun.

Made arrangements to room with MM and RMA on Saturday night as I was certain I would be in no condition to drive home after an S&M themed run. Dug through my closet and found my favorite old pleather dress, handcuffs, fishnets, and combat boots, and was off to SLO.

Now, I'm not saying life in Tehachapi is boring, but I will say it's been a while since I've gone to visit friends and found them in the cheapest hotel room in town dressed like this:Yep, that's RMA and MM in their version of S&M attire. Not sure where they get their information but they seemed quite happy with the 'Day After Tomorrow' meets Buzz Lightyear with clothespins approach. Note the knee pads and toilet plunger with condom. This is what happens when you buy your costume at a Dollar Tree. For the record, this is what a proper male S&M outfit looks like:Kudos to MB for letting it all hang out.

So I changed and we arrived at the run start and for some mingling and a few beers. Here I am with other similarly clad and leashed friends:We headed out and basically did a pub crawl through SLO, enjoyed the looks of innocent passers-by, returned to the bar we started at, had more beer and some tacos, then changed into more acceptable clothes for the night.

I pretty much stuck with the group all night, mostly with MM. We had lost track of RMA but that's nothing new or even unwanted so we just went about our business of partying with the group. At about 11:00 pm we returned to our hotel to find RMA had brought a guest home with him.

Let me just preface this next part by saying that one of the conditions I had to rooming with MM and RMA was that they not bring any women back to the room for extracurricular activities. Each of them has been known to locate a less-than-desirable woman for such activities at these events. And that's not to say that these women are anything but lovely, sophisticated ladies who exercise poor decision-making skills in the company of drunken hashers but let's face it, when your arse ends up in a picture with two men wrestling in a cheap hotel room where no one knows your name, something has gone wrong.No, I'm not sure what was going on either. I do know that MM's eye was almost gauged out during the match and it almost got ugly. Well, uglier than it already was...

Here's another disturbing image of RMA with his own jockstrap on his head:I guess the moral of this story is, do not room with RMA unless you want to listen to drunken attempts at fornication in a cheap hotel bathroom then have him wrestle with you while your face comes dangerously close to large amounts of unidentified flesh.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Disorder in the Court!

Wednesday night found me in the jury box of the Mojave courthouse playing jurist for the local high school mock trial competition.

Mock trial is basically where the slightly nerdy-yet-theatrical kids in a high school spend a semester playing lawyer and/or witness. One school is the plaintiff, the other the defense. They each know their case and practice their side then go to a courthouse and have a pretend trial against another school. Real lawyers and judges observe and score them with a point system then determine who wins based on points. Fun stuff and something I was, of course, too preoccupied to do in my own high school years.

Being involved in this made me realize I'm now an adult. I mean a grown up that kids might listen to at times. It was an odd realization because I really don't feel like an adult. I think when you don't have kids and are only really accountable to yourself, you don't realize you're supposed to grow up. After all the only real difference between kids and adults is responsibility, right?

Then you get called "Ma'am" by a 17-year-old and it all comes crashing down on you that you are twice the age of the person talking to you and they have thrown you in the adult/parent category and are looking to you for an answer or advice as if you might actually know more than them. You catch your bearings, change the tone of your voice, and start speaking with perfect grammar and calculated precision as soon as you realize what's going on and before you know it you've grown up.

While I was sitting in the jury box contemplating my own adulthood, maturity and wisdom beyond my increasing years, I noticed one of the boys from the prosecutor's side kept looking at me. I realized he was trying to make eye contact, and possibly even attempting to flirt with me. I had heard that older women were in for the younger set these days, but it embarassed and confused me. Then I laughed at myself, noted his Batman belt buckle, and realized he must be part of my inexplainable link to all things Batman, as has been discussed previously here, here, and, perhaps everyone's favorite, here.

Note to self: Line up Batman movies in Netflix queue before Round 2.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

An aging Fanilow

Yep, I hit the big three-four today.

Somehow the past 33 birthdays haven't made me think twice about anything. Then again, by now you can probably tell I haven't spent much time thinking twice about a lot of things.

This one's different, though. Could be that I'm growing up and made all these big changes this past year: moving, starting a new business, ending a long romance. Could be that all my new friends here are more settled than me - with kids and husbands and a totally different lifestyle. Could just be that there's a full moon. All I know is that it feels different. More introspective or something. I'll let you know when I figure it out.

No plans for the big day. Come on, I'm single in Tehachapi and it's a Wednesday night. Oh, and I'm not saying it's a special tribute or anything, but I just don't think it's merely a coincidence that Barry Manilow decided to open his Vegas show on this sacred day. Thanks Barry, I certainly can't smile without you either.

Speaking of Barry, I found an interesting article on how he's doing to helping fight crime in New Zealand. Here's a description of the "Manilow Method" of dealing with hooligans:
Boy racers and rowdy teenagers involved in disorderly behaviour in Nelson may soon be confronted with a cutting edge crime tool: American crooner Barry Manilow.

Nelson police and the city council are thinking about using the "Manilow method" to disperse the unsocial groups from the inner-city Buxton Square carpark, The Nelson Mail reported today.

The method involves playing Manilow and other easy-listening tunes through speakers in central city public spaces to discourage young people from loitering.

The approach has been employed by police in England and Australia, and could soon be in Whangarei and Nelson.
I see a Nobel Peace Prize in his future...