Confessions from a Really Dangerous Mind - Mine

Ok, so here's the deal. For sheer research value, not to mention entertainment, I've gone ahead and entered myself on match.com. (The picture to the left is what my graphic designer told me to put up as my profile pic. Um, no.) Yes, I am venturing into the world of what I've always referred to as "geek dating". But, apparently, everyone is doing it these days. And, as someone who sucks with peer pressure, I'm giving in. I've been on it a week now since the official breakup with Charlie and I must say, I'm certainly impressed with the number of FREAKS in the greater LA area.

In less then a week, I've been "checked out" over 900 times and have received over 300 winks and emails and crap. I even received one from someone's 70-year-old grandfather in eastern Pennsylvania - SWEET. But, after sifting through the "eccentric" ones (ie, one gentleman whose screenname was "BEAM ME UP" and in his profile photo he was shooting the Star Trek gang sign - the Vulcan thing, or whatever the big-eared guy was. He was probably good for a laugh or to keep me company if I decided to stand in line for the next Star Wars movie, but, I hit the delete button immediately upon ceasing my fit of laughter), I narrowed it down to about, oh, three people within 10 miles.

Bachelor #1 we will call Joe. Joe had the balls to ask me to lunch and he proved to be a very funny, intelligent, successful, attractive person. Joe I would like to see again.

Bachelor #2 we will call Boot Scoot (BS for short - hmmm, maybe that's a hint). BS asked me out to have a drink with him last week, but, I played hard to get and now we're trying to reschedule for this evening. He's very attractive (from his photos), but, seems awfully busy and LOVES country music and dancing. And I don't know how good I look in fringe. But, we'll see. After a few margaritas, I'll be the best Boot Scootin' Boogie dancer in the land.

Bachelor #3 we will call Cruiser. Cruiser is funny as all hell (through email at least) and persistent. I finally gave in and agreed to meet him on the bike path this Sunday for a beer (don't drink and pedal - my personal specialty, but, it should not be tried at home). Not sure if aesthetically what I'm looking for, but, I'm sure he'll be a riot to hang out with. Or, maybe he'll be obnoxious and I'll toss my beer on him. No. That would be alcohol poisoning.

So, after taste testing each bachelor (um, not literally, you pervs), I will hopefully have some additional stories. At the very least I will have lots of free booze in me and that could make for a fun blog.

As a Charlie update. The wanker is getting his wisdom tooth pulled today. Can you say "karma"? He had the nerve yesterday to ask that I help him maintain his dental insurance through me. And, since I am a sucker of the nth degree, I agreed and then wanted to shoot myself in the foot - oops, already did that. That was met with a special "good night sweet dreams" phonecall which I barely remember due to the Ativan. Ahhh, sleeping pills. Sometimes I really wonder why women (particularly myself) can't just break away and tell the men that hurt them to piss off. I am currently taking applications from individuals who would like to knock me over the head with a frying pan and hopefully knock some sense into my dense noggin'.