Echo

And if you guys ever wonder why I get so confused about dating, let me direct your attention to what I’m surrounded by at the office. One coworker just had his divorce finalized and is dating a woman he met on jdate whom he declared he loved after a few dates. One met a girl living in China on match.com and will be flying out to meet her, and if they like each other, he’s going to “make her my wife.” One is engaged, but finally found someone else to “marry” to stay in the country (she had asked me to ask Brian who couldn’t believe I called him at work to ask him). One married an ex-lesbian, and they have a baby daughter and are expecting another; he and his wife frequently go out and pick up women at dance clubs to take home for threesomes. He’s my favorite because his stories are crazy. So seriously. I’m just a nice, normal (albeit quirky and antic-prone) girl next door from the suburbs of Northern California. Are there people in LA who just do normal shit?

And by the way…what does the BD of BDSM stand for? I’m trying to respond to an ad.

(i’m TOTALLY kidding)

I dropped Kevin off at the airport today. On the way there, I asked him if he was really going to invite that bartender from the Abbey to Taiwan. He said yes, and lamented at not having asked him if he had a boyfriend. Then again, we agreed that to some degree, a lot of people in LA can be “kept” if you have money so attached or not attached is a flimsy term. That makes me sad. I would never want someone who can be lured by material goods. It makes them cheap. I don’t care how physically beautiful they are, their lackluster insides create a package that doesn’t interest me. I’ve noticed that I’ve met a lot of materialistic people out here. I don’t mean the shallow people whom you expect to be dumb and materialistic. I mean the otherwise intelligent people. I guess being intelligent doesn’t exclude being materialistic. Hmm. I don’t know why I connected the two. Anyway, I hate materialistic people. I don’t like letting people I don’t know well find out what I drive, or see my place, because I want to figure out who they are first and let them get to know me first before that other stuff comes into play. Because I like nice things; I like things that are reliable and beautiful and that make me comfortable, but I don’t like things solely for what they cost or for the sake of what they say about status or consumer superiority. If it’s nice, expensive or not, it’s the same to me. I don’t want people to assume that I’m materialistic, and I don’t want people who are materialistic anywhere near me just because I have nice things. I prefer a guy who drives a Camry over a guy who drives a Porsche (two-seaters are impractical). I prefer someone wearing clothes that look comfortable over a guy wearing clothes that are slick with name brands clearly defined. $10 t-shirts are awesome. I even design my own. I don’t like super expensive jewelry because it can get lost and that’s a lot of guilt. I dated a guy once who was really materialistic–couldn’t stop obsessing about what people had that he wanted, couldn’t get over the fact that he felt I had a better car and a better place than him. He was so concerned with status. He made himself such a little person with his materialism and insecurity, really quite trashy and lacking in class on the inside. I don’t know what I was doing with him. It made me feel guilty whenever I felt hollow from lacking respect for him during the times when he was overcome by these sentiments, which was constantly. But it was a good lesson in admitting some things that I just can’t handle in a partner.

Ah, the procrastination ramble. I’m rambling because I don’t want to go to bed. I’ve been having nightmares the last few nights. But I’d better go so I don’t start nodding off at work again tomorrow.