Weidos on Match.com

I don't think this shit ever gets old. Here's the latest match.com email one of my friends received with her "mutual" matches:

Double Click to enlarge to fully experience the freakiness

My fave is the Viking. I am also drawn to the serial killers to his left.

Johan at a Meeting

Yeah, Johan and I worked a surgeon's society meeting down in Ft. Lauderdale this week. My company is trying to save money so we had to share a room. He got into the mini bar. 7 bucks for chocolate M&Ms:

He was really underdressed (as always). Everyone had on a suit but Johan:

He is always on his Blackberry too. It is so rude:

Facial Expression Workshop

My whole life I've gotten the "Hey, you should smile more!" It's just who I am. John once told me the happiest he ever saw me was when we got 5th row seats to Aerosmith and I was within spitting distance of Joe Perry when he went out on the walkway. When I went out on Wednesday night, Old Spice (as I shall refer to him) commented to his friend that I seemed reserved. His friend told my friend that I was hard to read. I've been told that before. Another friend of a friend commented that I was guarded. I analyzed self. I know I'm not a Debbie Downer. It's just if I'm going to smile it better be over something good. I also think my jobs have led to me having a kick ass poker face. When I worked in pediatric ICU I could not show my fear to parents or to the babies. When I worked in oncology I had to keep the calm face. Now in sales I have to conceal my "Do you know I can't stand you" thoughts from my customers. Belle, my Pilates instructor comments how my face doesn't change when I am doing tough moves. It's just me. 

My niece and Polly have an idea. They are going to put me in a facial expression workshop. I'm not sure what it entails. I will let you know. All I can think of is Jim Carrey faces.

Train To LadyTown™: Canceled

People, I'm not sure how to start this story. It is amazing how quickly things can change...here's the Cliff Notes:

• Wednesday night: Went on double date with friend and her beau. Guy was cute. Scratch that--not cute. Super hot, like MODEL hot. Smart, funny, total package.
• We exchanged numbers. Emailed and texted a few times. 
• I had the typical fleeting Penelope thoughts go through my mind. I bet you can guess them: I was totally watching for Red Flags. Hyper vigilant. What's wrong with him? Why me? He's too hot. I am a firm believer in equivalence in mentally stability, looks and intelligence when dating. Both my niece and my friends told me I was looking for problems. 
• Friday: We agreed to go out Saturday night when he got off work. 
• Saturday: There was texting (initiated by him) throughout the day. He started with, "I woke up looking forward to seeing you tonight." Okay. We only met once. Kinda bugged me, but I know I have baggage (carry-on and fashionable). He wrote (in reply to my question if we would eat dinner since we were meeting at 9), "Yes, "I'll save my appetite for you (:" Ugh. Cheesy. I analyzed it with a friend. She told me to roll with it. I found that I was turned off. I am telling you that if I was a teen now in the era of the text, I would be the girl that would leave her phone in her purse and be a total outsider.
• Saturday afternoon: He sends me (UNSOLICITED) a picture of himself. With no shirt in jeans. Posed. Like a model/calendar boy shot. The text with the picture says, "to stimulate your thought." (not thoughts--thought. My 1 thought). People, I can not make this shit up! Who keeps that kind of picture on his cell phone? My mind races. How do I reply? It's obvious he thinks he's on the train to LadyTown™. I ignore it for a while. 30 minutes later I get a text that says, "did you get the pic?". Shit, he's a wacko and a narcissist. This is a dangerous combination. I reply, "yes. I have been trying to think of a witty reply. Here it is--I guess the ball is in my court to send you a picture with my top off. Not happening." (I thought that was pretty quick. It was funny and I let him know the picture was kinda weird). 
• Friend's thoughts: I would love to post the picture but I can't--he has a high profile job and it would be shitty. Let me find something on the Intraweb that is simialr so you can get an idea. One moment, searching...found it! I googled "Old Spice Guy with no shirt."

My guy friend that I refer to as Costa on here wrote; "Shit. I don't know whether to fuck him of fight him!" when I sent him the picture. Miss Brown's husband said, "this guy is bad news. This is part of his play book. Steer clear. My niece told me to send him back a picture of my bush and write, "I had to pull over and fist myself after looking at your picture (hilarious, and NO, I didn't do that). My sister showed her gay hairdresser. He said he wished he was gay and was also concerned with the "too hot" factor. 

• Okay, I had to let him know that his PERCEIVED train to LadyTown™ was not leaving the station. The train was canceled. I wrote, "The picture was a bit too much for me. I'm canceling tonight. It was nice to meet you, I wish you the best." Translation: Dude, you're wacked, glad I dodged the bullet, please stay away from me. His reply was, "I understand" followed by "If I offended you, my bad, take care." I figured there was no need to reply.

All this happened in less than 72 hours. Just goes to show you that crazy can not stay bottled for long. 

How Much is that Doggie in the Web Cam?

People, I believe I've got the winning freak match.com story. I went to Pilates today and my instructor (still thinking of a name and picture for her) told me this one. A British guy. Divorced. Cute enough in the picture. They decided to talk on the phone. They start talking about pets. He has 2 dogs. I forget the breeds...something like a Corgi and a Papillon mix. People, get ready. This guy admitted to setting up a web cam so he could look at his dogs while he was at work. WTF!? You know how breathing is very important during pilates? I was laughing so hard that I screwed up the inhales, exhales and holds. I actually think I may have peed a little. What would make him think that was an okay thing to admit? I told her I would have rather heard he liked to fly those weird helicopters or mini airplanes. But wait...that's not all! He also has a yearly pass to Disney and Epcot. NOT sexy. 

There is a silver lining to this story. Imagine if he never admitted to the freakish dog cam. Things went well. They went on several dates. Made out. Pledged undying love (or decided they just wanted to get jiggy). They did it at her place the first time. THEN, they go to his place the next time. They do it.  She walks into the kitchen in the morning for post coital coffee and she sees the web cam. He then tells her it is set up to watch his dogs and he checks in while at work. THE HORROR!

Now I have even more pre-dating questions to ask:

• Are you married?
• Do you have a dog cam?
• When was the last time you went to Disney?
• If I was to go on myfloridacounty.com would I see that you are married? (it's good to ask the question in several different formats).
• Are you not divorced?
• Do you have a kid or 2 that you forgot to tell me about?
• Do you own a remote controlled airplane, helicopter or car?
• Who's your favorite Disney character. Yell, "GOTCHA!" when he says Pluto.
• Do you go to Orlando a lot?
• Do you have a roommate? If answer is "yes", proceed to follow up question, "is it your wife?"

Okay, if my pilates instructor (let's call her Belle as in Belle in Beauty and the Beast) was a cartoon she would look like this:

Not so much the open leg thing--more the in great shape and sassy thing.

Here's Belle. I had to google "female disney characters". All I could think of was Minnie. Haven't been to Orlando in a while...

Penelope's Kitchen Essentials

You know I am a domestic goddess. I realized I need to list the Penelope essentials for all kitchens:

• Rice Steamer-People, how did I live 45 years without one? If I had one in college I probably would have eaten. I've always dreaded the boil, simmer put top on neediness of rice. Aunt Kim at my chung chou chung nail salon told me how to estimate the rice to water ratio and now I don't even have to get out a measuring cup! You just put in the rice and add enough water to be about the distance from the bottom of your pinkie nail to the tip of your finger. There are like 25 bucks at Target. Get one.

• Wine Vacumn-Beleive it or not, I don't drink wine by the bottle. A great way to seal the wine so it is toasty fresh when you open it later. Ya know like in an hour or two..

• Fun Measuring Cup-Measuring is so boring. Why not make it fun? I got this one at my favorite site Uncommon Goods...

• Let's Get Spicy- Staples to have to throw on some boring ass piece of meat or vegetables to make it sassy...

Emeril's Bayou Blast. All part of my Louisiana PSTD therapy. And it's good shit.

Crushed Garlic in a Jar. Screw chopping fresh garlic. I really don't see a difference. Maybe I'm just low rent...

Salt is so passé. Seriously, we oh so healthy Americans ingest too much sodium. Check out the side of that Diet Coke can. I love this stuff. If you need a bit of salt it is sea salt and black pepper together in a grinder. Get it at Fresh Market:

• Cloth napkins that rock. I go to Pier I and Anthropolgie (The Temple™) and buy all kinds of cloth napkins on sale. No paper napkins (say in same voice used for Joan Crawford's "no wire hangers" speech.) 

www.nataliedee.com

Recycle Bin Sleuthing

They are the best way to get to "know" your neighbors. I was walking Daisy yesterday and I realized you can spy without being noticed. You just stand there while the dog sniffs and pees. Look casual. Act like you are enjoying the day when you are actually counting how many empty wine bottles are in the guy's bin 2 streets over. Don't give him any slack--assume he drank it all himself. Notice who partakes in delicious PBR in can vs. the expensive bottle import beer. See who is the cat freak with 5 jumbo plastic cat litter containers.  Pass judgment on the asshole that put non recyclables in the bin. Smile when you see that the Recycle truck drivers have thrown the shit back in the bin in a "fuckyouidiot" fashion. 

Alas, I can not cast stones--I've been known to ration the amount of wine bottles I put in my bin. I also stuff the bottles under piles of newspaper. Something that initially looks like this...

Can easily be transformed to this...

At least we are all recycling!

Learning to Drive Stick With Sulie

In my last post I made a reference to my first car--a 1980 VW Rabbit. I have looked for an exact picture. I could only find this:

Mine was white with red and orange stripes on the side. A 4-speed with a sweet red interior. A Pioneer tape deck/radio so I could blast Ozzy and AC/DC. I worked at the Wendy's drive through to make the payments. Ahh...one moment while I scan a picture when I dressed up as Wendy to give a football player an award. For this I got my hourly wage of $3.35 and got to have Friday night off (enabling me to go to a keg party on Powerline Road.

This picture is disturbing on so many levels. Let me list the ways:

• That I was willing to do this so I could have Friday night off.
• The guy's gut. WTH?
• The Wendy's manager (I forgot his name, let's just call him Mr. Tool) in his sweet polyester jacket.

Okay, as usual, I digress. My boyfriend taught me to drive stick. I had learned from my Dad when I was 8 in a Ford Bronco with "3 on the tree" (it made it easier when he was hunting to have me drive. PEOPLE, I am serious). I knew how to do the clutch, but a 4-speed on the hills in Gainesville was different. 

A day came when I decided that Sulie needed to learn how to drive. I think I was 17 and she was 15. Maybe 16 and 14. It's all hazy. I convinced her to practice in our neighborhood. We lived at the top of a pretty steep hill. It was steep enough that I would park in the street, crawl out of my window late at night, get into the car, out it in neutral and pop the clutch at the bottom so my Mom wouldn't hear the car start. Brilliant. 

Back to Sulie Driving School. There we are--cruising down NW 32nd Street. She has successfully gotten into 2nd gear. I had told her how to stop the car. I was telling her to drive into the driveway really slow. She kinda misjudged the turn and took out our mailbox. Our next door neighbors had 3 little girls. The Mom came over and REAMED us. I just remember Sulie sobbing as the Mom screamed that we could have hurt her girls. It was bad. I won't even blog about what happened when my Mom got home. 

Poor Sulie. She wasn't real excited about learning to drive after that fine experience. I think I asked if she wanted to learn how to drive stick a few years ago. She said "no thanks." I taught John's oldest boy. He was 15 with a learner's permit and we practiced in a deserted parking lot.

To this day I still remember how to out the condiments on a Wendy's hamburger:

Mayonnaise, Mustard, Lettuce, Onion, Pickle, Ketchup.

Bad Dreams: The Mini Series™

Okay, I had the best one last night. I was heading to Crescent Beach and I was in a bikini. Fortunately, I was a younger Penelope in this dream (I was even in my 1980 VW Rabbit). I had the kind of bikini top on where the triangles that cover your boobs are on the string. Like this kind:

Crescent Beach is a big hangout for people from Gainesville. I found the perfect parking space and got out to meet my friends. There I was being all cool and beach like. I was drinking a beer in a plastic cup and talking to a guy. I noticed he kept looking down. I looked down and the bikini top was pulled over and my boob was out. But wait, that's not all. I had 3 NIPPLES! 3 NIPPLES PEOPLE.  

( ), --, ...

I use way too many parentheses (but I love them so). I also enjoy a dash (but not just any old dash--an em dash). But an ellipsis... 

is one of my faves.