Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Late Night Ads: Part Deux

What's that Blog? You want more from last night's ridiculous Craig'sList ad I posted out of curiosity regarding what the Minneapolis dating pool holds? Well, you're in luck. I've managed to create a few more categories for the responses I've received. Note to self: If you mention vomit, they will obsess about vomit...

Case in point:

"You seem to be easily nauseated.... Are you sure it isn't some sort of stomach flu? Maybe someone slipped some syrup of ipecac into your nightly broth? You could just be having an epileptic reaction to the bright colors on your computer monitor?"

"nothing attracts a man like multiple references to vomit lol" (You'd be surprised at the current state of my inbox, sir.)

"I saw your posting on craigslist and was interested I laughed when you brought in the whole vomiting concept, I am a 20 year old SWM DDF college student at the UofM" (1. I don't know what DDF means, 2. I am both proud and embarrassed that my humor entices 20 year-old males)

"Still vomiting? I have alittle bit of vomit in the back of my throat. Burns just enough to remind me that this is a little uncomfortable ….perhaps meeting someone on line. so whatdo you think? Chat or vomit or both simultaneously?" 

And the vomit grand prize goes to... this guy.

"I dont like to vomit, but iv come to realize that not branching out and staying confined to the same structure of people is just plane stale. We could meet at least until one of us vomits. i dont vomit much but if your cerousity in meeting anyone . i live in uptown and am willing to meet just about any serial killer as long as they shake up my stagnet patter! im not some sleezy grease ball , just interested in meeting one. hit me up if your down or ignore this message if you have already vomited or choose to spare me and decide not to cut me up and put me in your trunk ! IM FUCKIN BORED AS SHIT!!!!!!!!!"

There's more. Oh, there's so much more. Like...

Dudes who have houses... but not STDs:

"I live in Minneapolis and have my own house . I am very safe, fun and respectful"

"As for the basic info, I'm 38years old, 5'11 175# shaved head (i.e. bald), blue eyes, glasses.  I'm smart, well educated (a lawyer), with a job, a car, a house, no STDs, nokids, etc."

Just checking in on my progress:

"Since you posted last night I would bet you have been vomiting constantly since reading the emails you received???" (also hung up on vomit)

"haha your ad was funny. I also live in uptown, I enjoy looking at these craigslist ads but never really respond to them cause I dont really online date either but they are fun to read but you seem interesting. Did you get some good responses yet?"


"I'm just like you probably sick of the bar scene sick of going through the same routine of trying to meet people only find out how lucky you are to be single lol"

"I am single and interested, but  i am older than  you . i am 42.  lol.   I am fun and outgoing
person.. i  am kind and caring person... bla bla bla .... lol"

Then there's advice... 

"You don't sound so happy. Control your thoughts, control your attitude!!!Life is good!!!"

Compliments (which I suspect are only made in an attempt to get into my cyber pants)...

"I saw your post and found itvery interesting. It is one of the better written posts I've seen in a while. So I thought I'd send you an email to say Hi."

Your post was fantastic, very funny and brutally honest. And someone I would definitely like to get to know more. I believe I share your sense of humor and outlook on life. I am another individual that is looking, I've been set up with friends of friends and tried the random girl at starbucks and yet here I am.

"You made me laugh. Even if it was the slightest of chuckles." (Why thank you for the coveted distinction of my possessing the ability to cause a slight chuckle from within sir)

Incredible straight forward-ness...

"I think other bored peopleare most likely to respond"

And out of all of them. Out of all the spam, creepy old men, and ridiculous misspellings, the one guy I'd consider responding to whilst choking back the vomit I made ever so clear would take place if I were to go through with this, is a polite and honest teacher who happens to be real:


I read your post on CL. I would love to talk with you more. My name is
David. I am 31 years old. I am 6'1, brown hair, brown eyes, cute smile and
a nice athletic muscular body. I work as a high school teacher and love my
job. I also enjoy reading books, watching movies, hanging out with
friends, downhill skiing and working out.

I love the city and work and live in Minneapolis. I would like to talk
with you more and see where it goes. I am real since we are supposed to
get a big snowfall tonight night.

my picture is attached.



The question remains; will I respond? I don't know. Nausea still makes its way up my esophagus when I think of what I could possibly include in a response to the polite school teacher who loves his job. But I'm learning that the one thing that drives the success of online dating is curiosity. You just won't know unless you put the time it takes to write a blog entry about all the d-bags who responded to your classified post into an actual response to the one who actually catches your eye.

Of course I'm still hung up on that guy I was dating, Blog. But I have to admit that this Craig's List experiment has taken me out of the sorrowful cycleI have been stuck in and did just what I hoped it would do; it reminded me that there are men out there and has distracted me from dwelling on the weirdness that came with dating that guy. It is completely up to me if I want to pursue them or not. I'm still not sure if it's something I want to do, but it's good to know that it's an option. I guess I knew it was an option the whole time, and that's probably why I crafted a terrible ad about dating-induced vomit.

Jesus, Samantha. No wonder you're single.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Late Night Ads

 Blog, I can't sleep. I was riddled with a hangover-induced migraine last night that seeped over into this morning and as a result I ended up sleeping until noon. It's thrown my schedule way off and now all I'm left with is my thoughts and you.

It doesn't help that the thoughts I'm having are not nearly the kind that can lull one to sleep. Quite the contrary. My mind is full of frustration and a ridiculous longing for what I simply cannot have. It is an endless cycle that you'd think would make me exhausted enough to get some shut-eye, but in the end I'm wide awake with nothing to do but contemplate as to whether or not I should write about it all publicly.

I'm sure you can guess where this is headed Blog. Part of me just wants to spill it all to you for the sake of releasing it from the confines of my conscience. At the same time I feel like I'm beating a dead horse at this point. We've gone through this before and nothing has changed. I'm sad, confused, and unsettled with the way my last "relationship" (I put quotes around the word because it was a strange enough experience for them to be deserved) ended. Perhaps because it ended in no way I have ever experienced a relationship ending. Hell, the whole thing was something I had never experienced before. In retrospect it all seems as if it was in a good way, but it's hard to tell for sure. I could just be building this magnificent guy up in my head from the increasingly vague memory I have of what it was like to have him in my life.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm surprised that I'm still hung up on that guy I was dating a few months back. I even expected that I'd be out of the post-relationship dumps by the time my birthday rolled around. Well, that came and went and I'm still here pondering what the hell happened.

I guess it doesn't help that I hang out with his friends from time to time.

Anyway, in an attempt to both divert my attention and gauge where I am in the "being over it enough to consider dating" process, I spewed this Craigslist ad all over the women seeking men page this evening. It pretty much speaks for itself. I'm not proud of it, but I have to say the 32 (and counting) messages I've received in response have been entertaining enough. Entertaining and further proof that online dating really does make me want to vomit since the simple thought of responding to any one of these messages makes me nauseous. I guess that puts me at a zero in the "being over it enough to consider dating" area. It's actually a comforting thing to know. I'm glad I'm being honest with myself, and Craigslist for that matter.

And now, highlights for what entered unto my old hotmail inbox this evening reminiscent of this throwback entry that interestingly enough is embedded with a subtle tone of my former insecurities and proof that I had an asshole for a boyfriend.

There's the get-to-the-point guys:

I read your CL ad and thought i'd respond to your shit. i'm 26, a guy, in s. mpls. email me...."

"Male.23 pic plz."

"Come snuggle thats all no joke" (WHAAA?!)


"Good evening. How are you? I enjoyed your CL post. I really don't know what I am looking for, but guess I am looking for some companionship, someone to chat with, and if there is a connection, dinner, movie etc.
Have a great Tuesday! Enjoy the snow!"

"Just about anybody could respond.
And coffee is a good start ;)
How's your night going?"

The "I may have just copied and pasted my online dating profile into this email" guys:

"I love soccer, surfing, salsa dancing and spending time with my family. Always like to try new things, get into new adventures. Having goals in life are very important and I work hard to achieve them! Traveling is a big passion, places I have been so far: most of US, Bahamas, most of Europe... Looking forward to seeing South America and Far East Asia."

"35 6'3" brown hair blue eyes. I enjoy all kinds of music listen to alot of country and rock. I enjoy hunting fishing and everything the outdoors has to offer. I like to go out to eat have a few drinks or go to movie or just stay home and watch a movie or listen to music cuddled on the couch."

The "I totally know how you feel" crew:

"I would response to that I feel what your saying online dating come on really like it works If it need work I would be amazed plz key me know what you would do if you meant a cool guy down to earth soft spoken man such as myself I would love to keep this conversion going if u will"

"Hi your posting is pretty cool. I agree with the whole thing that you're talking about. My problem has been no one's ever given me a chance to shine on a date. You put your biography out there and you never hear anything back. I don't care if you're not interested. That has been my experience with online dating." (Womp, womp)

"Hi there! just thought I would say hello. You seem like a smart person with a nice sense of humor. That is key to me. I never roam craigslist ads, but for some reason I felt that I should tonight. Maybe it's for good reason. I met you." (Oh dear. This is what you consider meeting someone?)

A one-upper?

"Do you one better. My sexy bi wife of 10 years left me last year for her online gf. Talk about vomit"

And last but certainly not least, the haters:

"The problem with idiots like you is that you don't realize how puke inducing YOU are."

"I'm not even gonna respond to your shot!" (But you did, and you spelled "shit" wrong)

"You post because for one you are a female
Second, you are insecure and afraid ti approach men on your own by choice
Third, you need attention
Vomit away. Thanks.
Women in thus city act confident but aren't at all.
Men can see thus lack of it written in between the lines while women don't think we can."

His harsh words ring true for me. And yes Blog, it is incredibly tempting to put up a sarcastic defense to him and his odd spelling of the word "this", but why should I when he is right? While I don't think I need to be reminded that I am female and I do believe I exhibit a certain air of confidence, I certainly am not ready to approach men. Does this mean I'll never be ready? No. But that last guy and all the others who responded did me a huge favor in reinforcing my stance on where I am with seeing what's out there. As for needing attention, I think we all need it to a certain degree. It just depends on where that attention is coming from. Right now, an email chain is not going to get me what I want. And I'm totally ok with that.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Fun Fact

Fun fact Blog. I used to not  wear skirts or dresses when I was a kid because I didn't want to deal with the issues that would arise during my daily excursions on the monkey bars. I just wanted to let you know this as I realized that my current professional wardrobe consists entirely of skirts and my day to day excursions have no room for monkey bars.

Part of me wants to change this. Part of me is glad that I've matured enough to be ok with wearing a skirt every day.

I would write more Blog, but I've been busy this evening putting my thoughts down in a post over at Secret Laboratory. 

Time fore sleep.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Finally I'm a Real Person

Blog! Hello from probably the most elaborate item I have ever owned. I bought myself an iPhone yesterday. It is worth more than my car. I don't know what has come over me the past couple weeks, but I have found myself pining after this crazy thing that is unlike anything I have ever owned. I've spent so much time on this thing already but have really only had one phone call. I guess that is an indication of how popular I am these days...

Blog, technology is amazing. That being said, poking a screen with my index finger isn't quite as satisfying as a keyboard. But I figure I'll get some phone blogging under my belt right away so the next time I find myself in a predicament that calls for emergency blogging, I'm prepared.

Because that happens all the time...

And now for the novelty of a picture:

Oh Jesus I hope this works...

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Either This is a Masterpiece, Or an Embarrassment

Not to get all philosophical on you Blog, but if the pen is mightier than the sword, why do actions speak louder than words? And even after that, a picture of the whole ordeal is worth a thousand of them.

Visuals: 2
Literature: 1

And this is why I need to take up photography and turn you into a wedding blog, Blog.

Oh come on. I'm kidding, I'm kidding! You and I both know that I'd much rather get drunk and ramble incessantly with you rather than capture the ridiculous dedication of eternal love with unfocused backgrounds and agreeable outdoor lighting.

What's that? I've become cynical? Blog. It's not like you to be so vocal about what I share with you. What gives?

Oh I see. I created you and now you've become an entity that has developed an opinion and feelings that are reflective of my own yet independently formed. How like Frankenstein. Well, at least you have an aesthetic color palette and aren't made of a cadaver...

 Now that we have that inevitable exchange behind us... where was I?

Oh yes. Philosophical ponderings. Did you know that I don't even really know what the word philosophical means? Oh the honesty I have with you, Blog. It is second to none.

You didn't know either? Well, that's not surprising. I mean, you are an extension of myself. We aren't that different, you and I.

Anyway, I never took any philosophy courses and therefore have never given the subject much formal thought until now. Upon gazing at the word, I've had the revelation that it probably means something like "for the love of Sophocles" or "Gee, I sure do dig everything Sophocles had to say".

Too bad I don't remember what Sophocles had to say. I do know, however, that he taught Plato, who taught Alexander the Great. Why do I know that? Acronyms, Blog. If there is doubt whence studying history; acronyms. "Spa" wasn't just my business idea for my 11th grade Agribusiness class. (And yes, if you gaze upon the word agribusiness for long enough, I'm sure you'll figure out what it means)

Wow. I am tangent city tonight. Now I feel like gotten too far off track to write about the impact that the type of music I listened to as a teenager has had on my current state of affairs.

Fuck it. I'm going there anyway.

I had the revelation the other day that the type of music I listened to during my coming-of-age years has formed my thoughts and feelings on my approach to the idea of romantic love. Or so I initially thought.

That's it. I'm creating some case studies, yo.

Case Study: Kerin the Bostonian

Though Kerin is one of my very best friends and we share many things in common, one thing that differentiates us (besides our seemingly opposite upbringings) is the music we listen to. Kerin is a hip hop gal. She's from the mean streets of Boston. She's agile in the arena of pop culture and appreciates the mainstream. This means she listened to the Backstreet Boys when she was a teenager. This means she lived, breathed, and probably somehow ate lyrics like "You can save me from the man that I've become" and "No matter the distance, I want you to know, that deep down inside of me... You are my fire, the one desire..."

As a result, Kerin has a romantic sense about her. She is confident in the ideas of fate and destiny. Instances and experiences that some may find sappy, she sees as sentimental and revealing to the existence of true love and the idea that it is meant to be. Yeah, I know this makes Kerin sound like a hopeless romantic. But on the contrary she's quite the opposite. She's an incredibly hopeful romantic; and we have Howie Dorough to thank for that.

Case Study: Little Samantha on the Prairie

Like I mentioned in the previous case study that I have created for illustrative purposes, even though Kerin and I have many things in common, we differ in our upbringings and tastes in music. While she was hip hopping on the mean streets of Boston, Little Samantha was naively exploring what the flower children of the 60's had to offer the generation that had given birth to her. In other words, I was a hipster before being a hipster was a thing.

For the record, being a hipster before being a hipster was a thing cancels out the idea of hipsterdom (which is being into something before it becomes mainstream). Therefore, I was never really a hipster to begin with.

Or was I?

I digress. As a result of this naive exploration, I found myself engrossed in Joni Mitchell. I lived, breathed, and probably fueled my car with lyrics like "You leave 'em laughing when you go, and if you care don't let them know" and "Everything comes and goes. Pleasure moves on too early and trouble leaves too slow."

Of course I'd be into someone who is poetically rooted in realism. And there was no context for these ideas for a timid 15 year old in Steele County, North Dakota. I was a lost cause from the start. The cynicism didn't start with my earlier comment about wedding photography, Blog. It started with Blue in 1999.

As a result, I am jaded in the eyes of romance.

Just when I thought I had it all figured out, another friend of mine, Trisha, mentioned in response to this whole idea of adolescent music habits contributing to adult relationship trends that the music didn't choose me. I chose the music. And she is right. I had my radio tuned to Y-94 out of Fargo in those days. I was totally familiar with I Want it That Way and yet I chose to flip my Court and Spark cassette multiple times a night just like Kerin chose to make it a priority to liken the Backstreet Boys to that of an infallible deity. The music didn't choose us, we chose the music. Our hormones just made us think we weren't in a place to take responsibility for our actions.

Damn you puberty!

And here's where I'm going to bring this ramble back, Blog. I bet you didn't see it coming, but it's going to happen.

Though Joni's words speak volumes to me, I am the one who has acted upon pursuing them for inspiration. Just like Kerin opted to follow those boys from the back streets in a response to the emotions that overtake any teenager when they finally realize that, hey! Sexual attraction is a thing!

Visuals: 3
Literature: 1

The score is settled... for now.

Also, I've finally wikipedia-ed all the Greek philosopher stuff I was going on about earlier. Turns out, with my logic, philosophical might as very well mean "I'm a huge fan of Antigone". Acronyms don't work quite as well when Socrates and Sophacles start with the same letter...

Blog, after they legalize gay marriage, I hope they legalize blog marriage. I fear you're the only one who truly gets me to a point where I could ridiculously dedicate my love to you in front of a focused camera in agreeable outdoor lighting.

Monday, February 6, 2012

With That, There's This

Just so you know Blog, I wrote the previous entry while in the midst of a really bad migraine. Re-reading it now makes me doubt the value of my Bachelors degree in English. Yet I'm too lazy to go through and edit the atrociousness that is the limited vocabulary rambling on about the day I was brought into this world. So instead, I apologize with a small entry.

Now for this:

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Today in Blizzard History

Today is my birthday, Blog. I didn't do much to celebrate, but my dear friends Kerin and Sam made my day by having brunch with me. Then Kerin was sweet enough to let me watch one of my favorite movies with her; White Christmas. Of course then we all watched the Superbowl together. All in all it was an alright birthday. So far 28 isn't so bad.

My mom posted this link on my facebook wall today in regards to a Chuck Klosterman's book Downtown Owl. While I've never actually read any Chuck Klosterman books, I've heard a lot about them and should probably pick one up one of these days. Perhaps I'll start with Downtown Owl since he apparently prefaces the story with a news article reporting on the blizzard I was born in. There is a lone comment that was left by a man named Kevin who was one of the many who ended up stranded. It's always been interesting for me to hear the accounts of people who actually experienced it. For my entire life my family has recounted where they were when I was born. Not necessarily because my arrival into this world was so monumental, but because it coincided with one of the most incredible blizzards in Minnesota history. People were instantly stranded in school gyms, hospitals, and most of all their cars. That's why 16 people died from freezing to death and from carbon monoxide poisoning within their cars.

After trying to look up articles detailing the events of the night I was born, all I could come across was little blurbs here and there in Minnesota weather history. It's unnerving to think that even my parents got stuck in the storm on their way to the hospital where I was supposed to be born. Luckily they were picked up by a passer by who brought them back home where I apparently was delivered by a nurse who was brought in by a snowplow driver by the name of Heintzelman. I never met him, but his wife always sent me birthday cards decorated with calligraphy and five dollar bills when I was a kid.

I guess it could have been crazier like it was for Scott's parents who also got stranded on their way to the hospital. Instead of making it back home, Scott was born at somebody else's house outside of town. Two weeks later we ended up on the front page of Herman's newspaper, billed as the newborns who made it into this world during one of the worst blizzards of the century.

So my entire life I've known of people named Heintzelman, and this kid Scott who is just a few hours older than I am and who was born in the same storm, though I've never really met any of them. I do think of all of them, and all of the people who died every time my day rolls around. That makes it sound kind of depressing, but I have to admit that it's one of the more interesting things about me.

So happy birthday to me Blog. I'm going to try and make 28 the best I can make it.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

The Original Veldhouse: Part Deux

Blog, so you know how I wrote a lengthy post about seeing my dad for the first time in seven years back in December? I have to first of all make a correction. It wasn't seven years that had gone by since I last saw him; it was six. I for some reason thought that Grandma had died back in 2004, but it really was 2005. Either way, it's a significant amount of time being away from a parent, so I'm not going to dwell on semantics.

However, I don't think I mentioned in that post my dad's weird habit of bringing up rather off-the-wall ideas in conversation where my, or anyone else's response is to internalize whatever nonsense he has just babbled on about and dismiss it as just that: nonsense.

But then it hits you. Not a few minutes later; not a few hours, but days. Days later, you discover something completely relevant on the internet that validates a sense to everything he had babbled on and on about in what you perceived to be a half-drunken stupor.

That's it. I'm listing examples.

Example #1: Minnesota's Economic Woes

Even though I went 6 years without seeing my dad, that doesn't mean I wasn't talking to him. Every few months I have a conversation with my dad that usually lasts an hour or so and ranges from gardening to politics to the military to history (his favorite period is the Antebellum era of Andrew Jackson...). This one happened sometime last year, so my memory on it is fuzzy. It also doesn't help that I have no idea how the economy works. But what I do know is that while it's on a slight upswing, it's still not the greatest and it certainly wasn't doing any better last year at this time. And maybe that's why my dad started going on and on about how Minnesota needs to have a state owned bank to help with its economy so it could offer affordable loans to local farmers and businesses. This would nurture growth in communities and would pull Minnesota out of the recession.

I guess it would make sense right away to someone who knows about economics and state banks and recessions. But combine my inept understanding of such things with his slurred speech and long pauses, and you get me just amicably repeating "Ok... Ok... Uh huh... Yup".

Less than a week later, I'm looking around at what national headlines are worth a gander and come across an article. While this isn't the exact one I read, the content is pretty similar to what I found... and it was exactly what my dad was scheming.

Example #2: Those Old Christmas Lights

This one happened over Christmas, naturally. My dad was sitting in his smokey and cramped living room drinking a rum and orange juice and smoking a cigarette from his rationed pack for the day. He was blandly describing how he had a bunch of Christmas decorations in the basement, but didn't have the gusto to dig them out and put them up. After a moment of thought, he mused that he should just send them to China so they could be recycled.


Apparently Christmas lights can only be recycled in China. Ok dad... How about we move on and take a look at that Depression-era glass you wanted to get rid of.

A few days later? Andrew Sullivan happens.

Example #3: Did He Just Say "Ted Kaczynski"?

The most recent and probably incredible information nugget my father has bestowed upon me was left in a voicemail I received last Thursday night. In it, he was clearly intoxicated and clearly fired up about... Saul Alinsky?

"I'm gonna get all Saul Alinsky on you. You probably don't know who Saul Alinsky is. You should look him up. Because we're going there."

I listened to this message as I rolled into Minot on the Amtrak Friday morning. I told my sister-in-law and brother about it. We all were bewildered, concerned, and glad that he wasn't talking about the unabomber.

But who the F is Saul Alinsky?

Upon my return to Minneapolis Monday morning, I open up Facebook to this link posted by Heather on my wall. Apparently Bill Maher doesn't know who Saul Alinksy is either.

And tonight, Andrew Sullivan strikes again. (Though, I confess I'm a few days behind on his blog)

I get that this all could easily be explained away by the fact that my dad is just up to date on his current events. And he totally is. The part that leads to my surprise every time is that my dad doesn't do the internet. He goes on for about 15 minutes a day and checks his email. All of this stuff is somehow heard and processed by him via his 1970's amplifiers blaring NPR 24/7. That, and his habit for bringing up obscure topics in obscure conversations while obscurly pausing and temporarily losing his train of thought leads you to believe that this isn't actual shit he's talking about.

As for Saul, my birthday conversation we had tonight (my dad rarely, if ever, calls me on my actual birthday) lead me to learn that my dad has a lot of books by the guy. He's been reading up on not only Mr. Alinsky, but also has been delving into Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan, and the retelling of There's a Hole in the Bucket and This is the House that Jack Built.

I swear to God if I come across an article on the importance pertaining to the passing-down of cumulative tales to the younger generation, you are going to be the first to hear about it Blog.

Little Samantha gets a primer of "Rules for Radicals" back in '85.