Catholics, Atheists and me

The Associated Press published a study today about people's belief (or non-belief) in ghosts. And imagine my delight when I read that, according to a sampling of 1,013 adults all over the United States, I -- as a single woman -- am more likely to receive a visit from a ghost than most other people...

"The most likely candidates for ghostly visits include single people, Catholics and those who never attend religious services."

Why? You got me. But next time something goes bump in the night, I might think twice before dismissing it as the loud guy who lives above me.

I'm crazy hot

Raise your hand if you watch How I Met Your Mother on CBS? To all those not raising your hand, you're all dead to me. OK, not really...but if you're a 20-something like me, you will definitely be able to relate to this show -- men and women alike. Seriously.

This week's episode delivered once again with womanizer Barney Stinson's explanation of the Hot/Crazy Scale. Basically, as Barney describes it, the Hot/Crazy Scale is a method of determining if a woman's hotness outweighs her craziness. Watch the whole thing online here, or just skip to the fun part by taking The Barnacle's quiz to figure out if you fall into the "danger zone." Per Barney, fall below the red line and you're toast.

Don't get me wrong, I see how this could be construed as offensive to women. But ladies, think about this: The same Hot/Crazy Scale can easily be tweaked to work for us, too. Think about it...you're on a date with a really hot guy who's kinda sorta starting to drive you crazy halfway through your lobster tail (because of course you ordered the lobster tail...). Figure out if you should hang in there or duck out while he's in the restroom with the Hot/Annoying Scale. Your new boyfriend looks like Brad Pitt but he checks out every girl walking by. Use the Hot/Asshole Scale to help you decide whether to look the other way (I mean, he does look like Brad...) or kick him to the curb. And how can I overlook perhaps the most important one of all, the Hot/Bad In Bed Scale? I mean, we all judge men anyway, right? As I see it, this is no different.

I really think I'm onto something here...

Priceless

And believe it or not, friends, you can actually get this on a t-shirt! I'm ordering one in every color...

On men and catnip

I pride myself on the fact that I'm not one of those girls who lets her desire to meet a man dictate everything else in her life. Take my friend, for example (who shall remain nameless...) -- she'll decide whether or not to attend a party, RSVP yes to a wedding or commit to any weekend plans based on her assessment of the girl-to-hot-guy ratio. Now, I get that eye candy makes every thing more fun, but it shouldn't be the end-all, be-all of your social calendar.

I was recently invited to a party by one of my friend's boyfriends. He was throwing the party to celebrate her new, uber-fancy job. Unfortunately, I already had plans the night of the party, so I responded with a "Maybe," thinking I may have time to stop by after I'd finished with my prior commitment. Seeing my wishy-washy response, my friend emailed me to tell me that she really hopes I'll be able to stop by the party because her boyfriend is "inviting a few of his single guy friends."

Sometimes I think that, as a single woman, people assume that we all operate this way, filling our social calendars based on the possibility of meeting a man. To the single gals out there, how many times have you felt like someone was dangling the potential of single guys in front of you, expecting you to jump all over it faster than a cat on one of those catnip-filled mouse-on-a-string toys?

Don't get me wrong, I know I'm not going to meet anyone sitting on my couch alone or hanging out with the same people I always do. I know I need to put myself out there in order to expand my "network," so to speak, and increase my chances of avoiding Spinsterville. But I think there's a fine line between making a concerted effort to "get out there" and letting the need to find a guy dictate your life. Personally, I feel like I have a pretty good handle on this. Will I make more of an effort to stop by my friend's party as a result of her catnip-dangling strategy? Yeah, I probably will. But the difference is that I'll be doing it with the hopes of meeting new people and making new friends. I know there's a possibility of something happening, but at the same time, I'm not going to let it make or break my night.

What it all boils down to is that I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. I know I can do things to increase my chances of making things "happen," whether they be man-related or not, but I also strongly believe that what's meant to be will eventually be. And with that in mind, I like to think I've saved myself from having to constantly chase catnip...er, men.

"Through a friend"

These days, I'm pretty sure the only place to meet a sane, decent man is "through a friend."

"Oh, so you're dating someone new? Where'd you meet him?"
"Through a friend."
"That's great!"

"You met a really great guy this weekend? Where?"
"Through a friend."
"No kidding..."

"That sounds like a really great date. By the way, where did you meet this one?"
"Through a friend."
"Figures."

Don't get me wrong, I'm very much in support of friends playing matchmaker for other friends (who better to set you up than someone who really knows you?), but I'm beginning to think my friends don't share the same philosophy. Here's how a conversation between me one of my best friends went the other day (You should probably know that this particular friend is a man...we'll call him Bud.):

Me: "It seems like the only place to meet people these days is through friends."
Bud: "Agreed. We're getting too old for the bar scene."
Me: "Glad to hear we're on the same page. So..."
Bud: "..."
Me: "SO..."
Bud: "What?"
Me: "Why don't you ever hook me up with your single friends?"
Bud: "I've tried to hook you up before!"
Me: "Uh, no you haven't. When?"
Bud: "Ummm...Sophomore year of college! Yeah, that's right."
Me: "Who?!? You're delusional."
Bud: "That one guy...I don't remember his name."
Me: "Gee. Thanks, Bud."
Bud: "Anytime."

As the ONLY single girl in my group of friends (which, I should point out, includes an equal amount of men and women), you'd think I'd have the whole set-up thing locked down. Not so. And it's not for lack of effort on my part. I ask. I drop hints. And nothing. They talk the talk, but they never follow through. I mean, c'mon people! Throw me a bone here! (NO pun intended. I swear.)

So here's my question: Where can you meet a sane, decent man if you're A) too old for the bar scene, and B) surrounded by people who are oblivious to the concept of matchmaking?

Say church and I'll scream.

Single? Check.

Slow day at work. And when I say slow, I mean "I have a ton to do but don't really feel like doing it."

Oh c'mon, you've all been there.

So I thought this might be fun. I found it while blog-hopping today (I know what you're thinking, and if it's not a word yet, it should be). Credit goes to The Gawker...don't ask me how I ended up there -- it just happened...

Apparently, this is how you can tell if a woman is single just by checking out her pad. Let's see just how accurate this is, shall we?

1. Piles of magazines everywhere, comprised of tons of pretentious ones that are clearly untouched and then severely thumbed-through Vogues and Luckys.
Kinda. I'm more of a Seattle/Seattle Metropolitan magazine kinda gal. But I do pick up a Vanity Fair or Wired every once in a while just to look fancy and smart. So check.

2. Overflowing shoe rack and nothing in the fridge.
DEFINITELY check. If you're hungry, don't come to my place. But if you're looking for a pair of "can't live without" BCBG peep toes, I may be able to help you.

3. Scented candles.
So many, I can't count. Check.

4. Slovenly heaps of little-used makeup in the bathroom.
I keep my slovenly heaps of makeup out of sight, thankyouverymuch.

5. Stuffed animals in the bed.
Just one. And in my defense, I usually use him as a pillow. Check.

6. Cat hair on the furniture.
I don't do cats, only selective cat sitting. And only for my old roommate's more-doglike-than-catlike cat Bob.

7. Cat smell.
OK...is someone trying to imply that all single girls are crazy cat ladies? I'm slightly offended.

8. Cabinets full of mugs featuring the likeness of lady who looks like those hypertrophically-limbed Daily Candy illustrations, bearing the legend "I Love Shopping" or whatnot.
Does "Purse Princess" wall art count? Yes? Then check.

9. Anything pink.
Wow. I swear I didn't read ahead before deciding to use pink text... Check.

10. Ornamental pillows.
Check, check, check and check. And that's just for the couch...

11. Unedited bookshelves, esp. if they include He's Just Not That Into You or anything along those lines.
Check. And I love 'em.

12. Nair
Really now, who uses Nair anymore?

13. Lite cottage cheese in the fridge.
I'll do you one better and say FAT FREE cottage cheese. Take that. Check.

14. Anything lite or diet around. Cases of Diet Coke. Weight Watchers 'Just 2 Points' bars.
I once had so many cases of Diet Coke stacked on a shelf in my closet that their weight pulled the shelf right out of the wall. Check.

15. Inspirational or thinspirational things on the fridge.
Nah. Not into it.

16. Framed posters.
Thanks to my $19.99 Ikea frame and obsession with vintage posters, check.

17. Handbag tree.
Let's be honest. It would take a whole forest to hold my handbag collection. Check.

12 out of 17 in case there was any doubt in anyone's mind about my current relationship status...

Back on track

Short little blurb to get back to what this whole blog was supposed to be in the first place -- kind of a running list of pleasant surprises and things that make me happy (and the sometimes funny stories that go along with them).

You know when someone has their iPod up so loud that you can hear what they're listening to from a mile away? Usually really annoying, right? Right. Especially when it's something really annoying and crappy.

WELL...

Yesterday morning, the guy sitting next to me on the bus was blaring none other than my favorite (so good she's italics-worthy) singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles. And he was listening to my favorite song ("Between the Lines" -- check it). Let me tell you...she freaking rocks. Some might say I'm obsessed, but hey, is obsession always a bad thing?

Anyway, just something that made my morning a little bit better.

Sidenote: Does it strike anyone else as odd that a guy was rocking out to chick music? I mean, Sara's great, but it's not the most manly of music...

HOLY FREAKING CRAP

Let me start off by saying that I'm not one of those prissy girls that freaks out at the sight of anything, well, unsightly. I can kill spiders and clean toilets with the best of 'em. And let me continue by saying that I'm also not one of those girls who depends on people (men) to do the dirty work for her (again with the spiders and the toilets). But today, oh man. I was both.

There was a mouse in my car. IN MY CAR!!!

Thank God he made himself seen while my sister was driving. Better her than me I guess. But you should have heard how hysterical she was. Probably about as hysterical as I would have been if I was driving along and looked over to see a mouse chilling on the passenger side floor.

So she drives straight to my apartment and I come out to meet her armed with rubber gloves, tongs and a large spoon. I couldn't even look at the thing, and she was still way too freaked out to even get within five feet of the car. So after making a few unsuccessful phone calls ("Please please please come get this rodent out of my car!"), I had to take matters into my own hands. My weapon of choice was the big spoon -- and the gloves of course. Needless to say I threw the spoon away. And the mouse? Safely in the ivy in front of my building. As gross as it was, I didn't have the heart to fling him across the street like I'd originally intended to do.

It's times like these that I REALLY could have used a nice, manly man boyfriend for mouse excavation duties...



P.S. The wedding this weekend? We had fun. Yeah...I've got a little (big?) crush on Mr. Groomsman. Currently trying to figure out what witty opener I'll use when I email him tomorrow. And I'm SO over-analyzing the situation. Which I NEVER do. Ugh. And again, wish me luck.