Does Debbie

Wednesday, February 28, 2007


So last night I saw the new Broadway play with Liev Schreiber, Talk Radio. The show is still in previews and I hope following its official opening March 11th, it gets rave reviews. Or at least he does. Besides the annoying man in front of me who kept shifting his head from the left to the right, it was an enjoyable evening. And Joan Rivers was seated across the aisle from us, so it is always fun to see a living, walking piece of plastic.

Watching Liev act so brilliantly on stage got me thinking about my own, unfortunate ability to act. To encompass an emotion so foreign to my natural state. Like confidence. Right now, my confidence is flushed down the toilet and swimming in the Hudson. Pathetically, I am not strong enough to have the confidence to know, to feel that I am a smart, pretty, funny chick with a great job and great friends. I kinda feel crappy. Ugly. That I'm never going to fall in love again. That I'm not lovable.

I hate that my confidence is knit so tightly with my status of being in a relationship. I need to be single and happy. But it's not about being happy and fulfilled alone- I genuinely enjoy my life and the way I fill my days. I just forgot what it's like to feel secure with me. I'm trying.

Monday, February 26, 2007

66 Days

I don't know why there is a gray cloud over my head when it comes to bringing dates to weddings. A few examples:

My friend Stacey's wedding- Had a boyfriend but The Man had one of his friend's weddings that same weekend, 8 hours away.

My friend Karen's wedding- invited the Man and paid for his ticket, and we broke up two weeks before the trip to LA.

My latest conundrum- I have a co-worker's wedding in the Dominican Republic in 66 days, and already booked and paid for the all-inclusive trip for two. This is my fault- I impulsively booked the trip after a fun night out with The Date (remember him?) only to realize a few days later that we wouldn't last until May. So now I have about two months to find a date. And this just can't be any date, I mean, if that was the case I have friends who would jump at the chance for a trip to the DR. Oh no, this has to be a romantic getaway. Sand, beach, margaritas, sex.

There has to be lead time, too. I kind of need to let the bride and groom know who I am bringing and make sure my date has an airline ticket. So technically I have about 50 days and counting. Any suggestions would be welcome.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Off the Wagon

I fell off the wagon today. I caved and went on another jdate. He was cute, with the slightest dimples when the smiled, with dark hair and eyes, like me. Perhaps it is narcissistic, or just weird, but I prefer guys that also have dark hair and dark eyes. The more someone would think we were brother and sister, the better.

Anyway, this particular date and I had broken the cardinal rule of internet dating: we foreplayed our meeting. Meaning- we emailed, which led to frequent IMing, and then a one-hour phone conversation. We flirted, took the conversation in many different directions, and built up hope. We should have kept the chit chat short and just made a plan to meet.

Physically, our date was all that I could have hoped. I wanted to lick the Mimosa off his lips. I secretly hoped he would pin me against a building as we left the restaurant, and kiss me passionately (clearly this chick is in a dry spout!)

Unfortunately, this date was scum. He asked about my "shaving," stared at my tits, and told me repeatedly how horny he was. He told me he had masturbated this morning. When I joked about him coming to a wedding with me, he held it contingent on my "talent" in a certain area of bed. He might have been kidding, but he was cruder than Andrew Dice Clay.

Seriously, can it get any worse??

Friday, February 23, 2007

In Box

The latest jdate email to land in my mailbox:

ERSKINE CHAMBER 33 Chancery Lane London WC2A 1EN. London,United Kingdom. +447024033024 ATTN.

I am Barrister Hackett Jack (Senior advocate), the Personal Attorney to a Foreign Contractor, who owns a farmland here in United Kingdom. On the 24th of April 2002, my client, a German Nationality, Late Engineer Michael Evergreen, a farmer engineer, until his death four years ago in a ghastly motor accident along Liverpool Expressway, united kingdom. Since then I have made several inquiries to Several Embassies to locate any of my clients extended relatives, this has also proved unsuccessful. After these several unsuccessful attempts, I decided to trace his relatives over the Internet, to locate any member of his family but of no avail.

Then I have to contact you to assist me in repatriating the money left behind by my client before they get confiscated or declared unserviceable by the Bank ( Barclays Bank of United Kingdom) where this huge deposits were lodged. Particularly, the Bank where the deceased had an account valued at about 7.5Million Pounds has issued me a notice to provide the next of kin,relatives so that the fund left will be transferred or have the account confiscated within the next twenty official working days.

Since I have been unsuccessful in locating the relatives for over 4 years now I seek your consent to present you as the next of kin to the deceased so that the proceeds of this account valued at 7.5Million Pounds can be paid to you and then you and I can share this money rather than abandon it at the bank. 60% to me and 30% to you,while 10% should be for expenses or tax as your Government may require. All I require is your trust, honest and co-operation to enable us see this deal through. I guarantee that this will be executed under a legitimate arrangement that will protect you from any breach of the law.

I have every documents of my late client and shall send them to you. I will want you to send to me on your return email the following information for the transfer in your favour 1, Your full Name 2, Your contact Address 3, Your private phone, fax numbers for easy communicating for each others 4, Your email address 5, Your age and occupation I await your kind response, Please if you are interested and capable in handling this deal with me, due reply only on my private email address for security reasons. BARRISTERHACKETT@EXCITE.COM

I hope you are a good christian just like i thought before contacting you. Any delay in your reply will give me room in sourcing another good person, And note that the nurture of this deal needs a very top secrecy. Patiently waiting, Barrister Hackett Jack.

(you gotta love the "good christian" comment. the fraud wrote me on jdate!!)

Thursday, February 22, 2007


It's 3:35am and I am wide awake. Granted, this could be due to the large amount of alcohol I consumed this evening at a work party. I have enough alcohol in me to get an entire small country drunk. Fortunately nothing inappropriate came out of my mouth, as this was a client/agency party. It was tempting to pinch the bum of the cutest client, but I refrained.

I wish I had a nice cold beverage in my fridge, like Gatorade or Apple Juice. The only liquid I have is soy milk. Gross.

I'm also naked, which is kind of funny as I sleep in pajamas every night. Matching ones, usually a tank top and pants, from Victoria's Secret or The Gap. My favorite set is a light green top with green plaid pants, which my mom got me for Hanukkah last year. But I must have just taken off my clothes when I got home and jumped right into bed.

I'm sure I am going to feel like shit in a few hours, when I have to get my ass into work for a 9:30 meeting. But for now it's kind of fun. Bummer there is no one here to amuse. Or is there....? Just kidding, I wish.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Done Debbie

I don't know how to make the next statement without sending like a bitter 30-something year old woman, but I am going to try my dandest.

I am done with dating.

No, I have not met the man of my dreams and am hanging up my hat. Nor have I had a stream of awful dates that left me running to Babes in Toyland for any sexual release (just one or two of those dates.) Rather, I am tired of the let-down. I know, I know, I should go into these dates with no expectations and be pleasantly surprised if there is chemistry. The problem is that there is never chemistry. Or at least not lately. Not since The Man. Somewhat with The Date. The Patriot I never gave a chance.

This feeling I have now, call it disappointment, is one that I know too well. And as much as it sucks, it is comforting in it's familiarity. It's a bad habit I am trying to kick. But I sure as hell know that the way to break this habit is not to feed it with more bad dates. I think it's time for a break. To re-group and re-assess and all those other "re-s." To feel better about myself and muster hope that I will find that special someone.

It's time for a dating break.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Be My Valentine

Preface: The story I am about to tell you comes after a long day of work, snow, sleet, soggy boots, wine, chocolate dessert, more wine, and Valentine's Day blahness.

At the last minute, my friend Shana and I decided to go to the Gen-Art Anti-Valentine's Day dinner at the Helmsley hotel. She had received comp tickets for a 3-course meal and neither of us wanted to make a big deal out of Valentine's Day, so we were psyched to just eat, drink well and chat.

When we got there, the dining room was about 1/3 full and we were seated in the right wing, where there were no other guests. Weird. So much for chatting it up with other people. In the middle of the room were a handful of all-girls tables and one table of four guys. There were more tables across the way on the left wing. This will all make sense later.

After a scrumptious meal of crab cake, fillet Mignon and wisabi mashed potatoes, we took a breather. Shana balanced her check book. I texted a few friends. We planned upcoming events to attend. All of a sudden, Shana took out her contact lenses and placed them on a purple paper heart (there were stacks of heart post-its on the table to write the names of exes that would then be fed through a shredding machine.) Shana's contacts were old, and she wanted to throw them out. As she put on her glasses, I grabbed the heart-shaped paper and a Sharpie, and wrote next to the contacts, "I can see us together."

I then proceeded to ask one of the "hosts" (dressed in angel wings) to mysteriously deliver this love note to the only table that had two guys seated. They happened to be on the left wing, across the dining room.

Shana and I played it cool while the note was delivered. The guys had no clue who sent it to them. It was great.

However, all of a sudden, we realized what we had just done: we had delivered a pair of used, dried out contact lenses to two guys we had never seen before. What were we thinking?? It was totally disgusting! But you know what, we had a good laugh on Valentine's Day.

Monday, February 12, 2007

Wandering Eyes

I think I have a new dating pet peeve: when the guy has atrocious eye contact. Surprisingly, I am not referring to a jaw-dropping gaze at a passing woman with tits falling out of her too-tight tank top. That shit doesn't irk me. Rather, I am in awe at the number of men that are not able to balance between looking at me during the date with looking to the right, left, top, and bottom of me. It's all about eye contact.

Granted, eye contact is weird. Especially in a conversation between two people. When you stare into their eyes for too long, it's creepy, and if you barely look at them, it's cold and distant. This interaction is not just with dating. Eye contact balance is required at work, with odd family members, and in random business situations. Conversations with close friends don't fall into this category as who gives a shit if you stare at your friend. They'll call you a loser and then move on.

Anyway, back to dating. So I was out on a jdate recently and all was fine. The drinks and food were good and the conversation was engaging. I wasn't really attracted to him, but that wasn't the bad part. His eye contact ratio was only 1:4. Meaning he looked at me one second for every four seconds he spent staring at the kitchen in the back of the restaurant. Sure, he could have not wanted to look at me, but I really looked cute that night. I literally watched his eyes looking away while telling me about how he got his father to open up about his deceased brother.

Another guy, about five years ago, stared out the window the entire conversation. His eye contact ratio was about 1:9. I called him out on it and ended the date early.

So you might wonder what is good eye contact? 5:2. Look at me for five seconds, then blink away. Or glimpse at the menu. Or the door. Hell, look at the cleavage on the woman next to me, but only for two seconds. That's all she gets.

What do you all think?

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Letting Go

Every once in a while, a situation comes along that test one's character. I have been dealing with mine for the past six months, and failing miserably. I wrote about this once, but took it down quickly as it upset my sister. But this is not about my sister, this is about me.

My sister is dating this wonderful guy. He treats her like gold; I adore him. I am not going to say anything else about my sister or the guy she is dating.

Except that I dated his brother. Back in 2001. We had gone to pre-school together and twenty-five years later were re-introduced one fall weekend. We hit it off immediately and so began our long-distance relationship (I was in NY, he was in DC.) We saw each other every other weekend for a few months; we spoke daily. Until.

Until he went to a wedding in Florida and never called. And then made excuses when he came back about why he never called. And then broke up with me, the day before Valentine's Day. The day before I was supposed to visit him. And bad-mouthed me to his friends, which I saw first hand on his fantasy league website (his fault for logging in on my computer.) And lied to my face. And to make matters worse, he is married with an adorable child and I don't even have a strong prospect. I have dated a lot of men in my life, and this guy is the one I despise the most.

With all my heart, I want to let this go, for my sister's sake. Hell, I have forgiven the other assholes I have dated. But this one is hard; this one really hurt me. And I am scared to death that he might be a permanent presence in my life. Again, this has nothing to do with my sister. This is about me, and needing to let go of the anger. But I honestly don't know how.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Too Cold

It's too cold to write. And not much to share. Except that I did win $80 in a poker game last night (with all guys, of course.) I barely left my apartment the rest of the weekend. I am still interviewing men to fill the role of cold-weather-cuddler. No strong prospects at the moment.