In the Old Days, This Required Binoculars

I was making my rounds of former flames on all my usual stalking sites the other day (MySpace, Facebook, Google, the National Registry of Sex Offenders) when I discovered that one of my exes has recently entered into a relationship. This ex is basically two exes, because I dated him twice, during two totally separate periods of my life.

Anyway, the point is that I am really a lovely person because I was so happy to see that he was in a relationship. Seriously, I rule.

Oh, and also, yes, I do think it's normal to stalk exes on Facebook. Basically, if you date, sleep with, or even talk to me in a vaguely romantical fashion at any time in your life, I will stalk you on the internets until the end of time. You have been warned.

Zombies on the Subway. Again.

If you told me that every last person on the subway this morning was a zombie, I would believe you.

I am known for being gullible - although I prefer to think of myself as filled with childlike wonder - but I swear to you, these people were out for brains. Let's review the evidence:

1. Vacant stares. (Check.)

2. Ashen complexions. (Check.)

3. Odor of rotting flesh. (Check.)

4. Alternately jerky and swaying locomotion. (Check.)

5. Invading my personal space for no other reason that I could see except for BRAINS, BRAINS, OMFG BRAINS.

Check. Obviously.

What Does It Take ... to Get a Drink in This Place?

Me: This guy at the end of the bar is trying to get me to take him home with me.

Aaron: He's a good-looking guy.

Me: You know, the thing is ... it's depressingly easy. I'm not trying to be a jerk. I don't think it means anything.

Aaron: My uncle told me a story once. He was talking about how at a certain age, girls just started to look right through him. Not like, giving him dirty looks or whatever. Like, they just didn't notice.

Me: Yeah, I'm not looking forward to that day.

Aaron: So it's a compliment, right?

Me: Yeah. (Pause.) I'm just so tired.

How You Know It's a Good Party

Michaela: So, should we get a car?

Me: Yes. Finish this whiskey. I have car service numbers.

Josh: OK. I just have to find my pants. (Off our look, as we realize he is still wearing only gold lame hot-pants.) What? My phone is in the pocket.

Update From the Dating

I got a complaint the other day from one of my twelve loyal readers that I haven't said much about the ol' love life lately. I assume that this is because this guy is in a relationship and is longing for gossip from the dating world.

I don't do a lot of gossiping about dating, because I'd like to be able to continue dating, and also, less selfishly, because it seems kinda mean to reveal everyone's secrets on the Internets.

I will tell you though, without getting specific, that I've been very amused lately by the number of dudes who think it's appropriate to ask young ladies about their quote-unquote fantasies. I assume porn is to blame for this, although to be fair, I blame porn for a lot of stuff I don't like about the culture lately, like totally depilitated lady forests and hypersexualized twelve-year-olds.

Fortunately, I have an answer to this question now. When a guy asks me to tell him my fantasies, I will now reply, "I fantasize - all the time, like, night and day - about doing it in, you know, a regular way. And then - this is the hot part - we totally go to brunch and get eggs."

Come on. Who doesn't like brunch?

A Sign

Last night, I had a dream that my roommates were kicking me out of my apartment because I hadn't done the dishes in so long. I live alone.

Some Things Never Change

Me: My friend Claire brought her baby into the office the other day.

Ma Smash: Oh, Leo! How is he? He must be big.

Me: He is big. He is no longer a large baby. He is now a small man.

Ma Smash: They do that.

Me: And he's a flirt! He loves girls. It's hilarious. I forgot that babies are people. I remember when I was waitressing, little boys would always flirt with us. Probably because we were smiling ladies who were bringing them food. Who doesn't like that?

Ma Smash: No one! Everyone likes that.

Me: It was always boys, though. I never saw, like, girl babies flirting with the guy waiters. So I think it's just boys who do that.

Ma Smash: [Crickets.]

Me: Mum? Did I lose you?

Ma Smash: Oh, no! I'm here.

Me: So, what do you think? Is it just boys?

Ma Smash: You were the worst flirt I've ever seen.

Me: Me? No! Come on.

Ma Smash: You were terrible. A little hussy. You'd bat your eyelashes and everything.

Me: Ha ha ha. That's hilarious.

Ma Smash: I feared you'd be abducted.

Me: And the guy would stand up in court and say, Look at the onesie! It was the way she was dressed!