Last spring I signed myself up for match.com. I'm not proud of the fact, since the whole time I felt like I was prostituting myself or even worse using the Internet to find the man of my dreams...
What can I say, I had gone to the lowest of the lows.
However, I decided "why not" since I was stuck inside the library for 4-6 hrs a day and was in classes with other nursing students none of them single, cute guys...go figure. On top of that I had a friend tell me that I should seriously think about freezing my eggs. Fuck me, I'm 29 yrs old and ppl are telling me to freeze my eggs? For real? To make myself feel better about my current situation, I told myself to just have fun with it. Go out with everyone and anyone if they seemed nice. (To the girls who are thinking of going onto match.com I would advise against my own advice).
At first, you feel like a superstar, you get so many winks and e-mails coming at you. It's great for a gal who has zero interest outside of her little world. In fact it actually was a bit overwhelming. I decided to go on some dates...
Andre:
Andre was a (real) Christian. I love meeting new people and finding out about their life. But their is a line that people usually draw especially when meeting someone for the first time...on the date I found out that he had two kids from a previous marriage (hummm, am I really at the age where I'm dating guys with teenage kids already?), had three moms growing up (wow, this is a lot to dump on a girl for the first date) and a sister who is a crack addict and keeps hitting him up for money. The part about not knowing when to draw the line about personal information was a bit much for even me. I mean come on 2 kids, three different moms (don't know how that worked) and a crack addicted sister...fuck me.
The Greek:
Now I have to say that The Greek was freaking ay hot. He had the accent, dark figures and had some meat on him. However, after our first date he left for Greece for a business trip and the whole week he texted me (which don't get me wrong is very sweet). The fact that he texted me was cute, what he texted me not so much "Hi hottie, sexy, baby" after those comments I kind of checked out. But the real reason I had to let my Greek God go was when he pulled the "I think I'm falling in love with you". Come on now, 2 weeks and you're falling in love with me? Give me a break! You just want to get into my pants...so piss off!
The Lawyer:
The next guy I decided to go out with was a guy that I had been playing e-mail tag with for a couple months. He was a lawyer and had family in SF, which was nice. The fact that all his pictures were far away, should have clued me in, but then I would be superficial and I didn't want to be that girl. We met at a swanky bar in Union Square and as I walked up to him, he asked me how I was feeling, I replied "I'm good" and then it happened. He motioned for me to give him a high five. Don't get me wrong I love the high fives, however there is a time and a place for a high five and that just wasn't it, it was the most awkward high five I think I have given. The place that we went was known for their drinks and yet I was drinking tea (since I had been sick on our last conversation...2 months ago...really?). The night proceeded to be all about him and how great he was (little dick syndrome) and how he could take me on amazing vacations and we could travel the world together...seriously? Was I feeling like a prostitute? check. I drank my tea, so damn fast that my tongue was numb for a couple of days. Worth the numb tongue? YES!
38 yr old Wall Street guy:
One of the last guys I went out with was a guy who worked on Wall Street, was a runner and his mom had been a nurse. It seemed like a great match. He was a bit older, 38 however age has never been a factor for me. Our first date we hit it off and he made sure to open the doors, pull my chair back and let me order first. We had a great time together. It wasn't until around our 3rd date that his true colors came out. The conversation about the exes came to light. I noticed that all his exes were all "young". As I remarked about this he bluntly said "Yes, well you know women my age have old eggs and I want kids some day". Not only was I floored by this comment, it made me want to grab his balls underneath the table while asking him how "fresh" he thought his sperm still was since he was nearing 40. I held back my motivation to twist his balls off, but I did put it to him about the egg comment. After that things kind of went down hill from there. The last straw probably was the fact that when he asked me what type of guy I look for I replied "Someone who is ambitious, funny, has a great heart, romantic, outdoorsy and someone I know will be my best friend and more" When he asked if he met those requirements, I told him the truth, "no". I'm guessing that comment was the deal breaker...
For the girls or men who are on match.com, that's great and good luck to you.
I don't think it's my thing...so I will be staying off of match.com unless of course I get another friend who tells me that I should really think about freezing my eggs...
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
It's always the crazy men who adore me
This past semester I had my psych rotation. Before the first day on the ward, my clinical instructor, who appeared as though she was from the psych ward herself. She came to the first clinical with no bra on and she is not a small woman, if you know what I mean. At 7:30am in the morning I was in the midst of this woman's boobs as an unexpected hug took place. Really 7:30 in the morning smashed in boobs which aren't my own, is not how I like to start my day off...
In the e-mail she explained that it was okay if we were scared of being on a lock-down unit. The fact that I would be on a locked unit didn't phase me, I was working on my psych masters before I transitioned into Nursing...
However, I think my attitude changed when I got onto the unit and learned that there were convicted rapists and that we were not allowed to be in a room alone with any of the patients. Rapists are not my favorite, I tend to want to chop off their balls. It didn't help that every time we walked down the halls we would get cat calls the whole way. My nickname on the ward was "sunshine", yeah they really went out on a limb for that one...
The first day on the ward, we walked in and their was a tall guy, who looked like he was in his mid 30's and was singing, dancing and as us ladies walked by made a comment about "how he wanted to tap that ass". He definitely knew how to welcome the ladies onto the floor. In that moment, I prayed that I didn't get that guy...
It completely sucks when your prayers don't get answered or maybe God didn't hear the part where I said "didn't want THAT guy"...as my instructor handed me the chart my thought was instantly "fuck me"
My patient was diagnosed with being Bipolar and had grandiose delusions (aka: he thought he was God). Now on the flip side I really should have had fun with this patient, but I was really trying to be earnest and a good psych nurse. I mean honestly, how many times do you get to meet god in person? Not that often. I am pissed that I didn't ask him what my future held, what's the lottery ticket number, if I should go back to CA or stay in NYC, and how many more damn frogs am I going to have to kiss because it's getting rather old.
My first session with him went okay. We talked about his past, where he grew-up, his girlfriend and then we went into what he did for fun. This is when the serenading got started. He LOVED Pearl Jam, REM and a chick that I had never heard before but he was determined to make me like her. Instead of asking me if I knew the songs he would start belting them out. Which to be honest was pretty entertaining, I'm not going to lie.
Right before our conversation was over he wanted me to "look into his eyes" and ask him what his favorite things in life were. If you didn't know already looking into peoples eyes are the windows to people's souls (if anyone did not know this fact...he would loooove to explain it to you in greater length).
Now this is what it looked like: I would stare into his eyes and ask him "what is your favorite band?". He would close his eyes, take three deep breaths, hum and then spit out the answer. Now if I looked perplexed by his answer (I found out the hard way), he would explain his reasoning which took a mere 15-20 minutes. I didn't look perplexed again.
As we left, he asked me to come over and this is where it got awkward. First, I don't like unwanted attention and second I don't like unwanted attention especially in front of my whole cohort. He started singing REM to me and then professed to me that he loved me.
I think the worst part about it the situation is that when I told my girlfriends about my experience they replied "hey at least someone loves you."
awesome...simply awesome.
In the e-mail she explained that it was okay if we were scared of being on a lock-down unit. The fact that I would be on a locked unit didn't phase me, I was working on my psych masters before I transitioned into Nursing...
However, I think my attitude changed when I got onto the unit and learned that there were convicted rapists and that we were not allowed to be in a room alone with any of the patients. Rapists are not my favorite, I tend to want to chop off their balls. It didn't help that every time we walked down the halls we would get cat calls the whole way. My nickname on the ward was "sunshine", yeah they really went out on a limb for that one...
The first day on the ward, we walked in and their was a tall guy, who looked like he was in his mid 30's and was singing, dancing and as us ladies walked by made a comment about "how he wanted to tap that ass". He definitely knew how to welcome the ladies onto the floor. In that moment, I prayed that I didn't get that guy...
It completely sucks when your prayers don't get answered or maybe God didn't hear the part where I said "didn't want THAT guy"...as my instructor handed me the chart my thought was instantly "fuck me"
My patient was diagnosed with being Bipolar and had grandiose delusions (aka: he thought he was God). Now on the flip side I really should have had fun with this patient, but I was really trying to be earnest and a good psych nurse. I mean honestly, how many times do you get to meet god in person? Not that often. I am pissed that I didn't ask him what my future held, what's the lottery ticket number, if I should go back to CA or stay in NYC, and how many more damn frogs am I going to have to kiss because it's getting rather old.
My first session with him went okay. We talked about his past, where he grew-up, his girlfriend and then we went into what he did for fun. This is when the serenading got started. He LOVED Pearl Jam, REM and a chick that I had never heard before but he was determined to make me like her. Instead of asking me if I knew the songs he would start belting them out. Which to be honest was pretty entertaining, I'm not going to lie.
Right before our conversation was over he wanted me to "look into his eyes" and ask him what his favorite things in life were. If you didn't know already looking into peoples eyes are the windows to people's souls (if anyone did not know this fact...he would loooove to explain it to you in greater length).
Now this is what it looked like: I would stare into his eyes and ask him "what is your favorite band?". He would close his eyes, take three deep breaths, hum and then spit out the answer. Now if I looked perplexed by his answer (I found out the hard way), he would explain his reasoning which took a mere 15-20 minutes. I didn't look perplexed again.
As we left, he asked me to come over and this is where it got awkward. First, I don't like unwanted attention and second I don't like unwanted attention especially in front of my whole cohort. He started singing REM to me and then professed to me that he loved me.
I think the worst part about it the situation is that when I told my girlfriends about my experience they replied "hey at least someone loves you."
awesome...simply awesome.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Stepping up to the Challenge
I just love when I step onto the hospital floor and see nurses who are overweight, smoke and could care less about exercising or their own health. Especially as nurses we're suppose to be health advocates and promote preventative health measures, such as diet, exercise, stress reduction, etc. So it really ticks me off when I see these nurses stuffing their faces with the most fattening foods and then going out for a smoke...COME ON PEOPLE you're freaking killing me over here!
It's as bad as overweight cops who eat donuts while sitting in their cars. Whenever I see a fat cop I always want to go up to them and say "tag...you're IT!" and take off to see if they really could catch me...I would personally bet on myself.
So what the hell am I going to do about this disparity? One can say I have big ideas. Now the hard part will be getting them into fruition. (I can already hear my older brother in my head telling me..."Sarah just fucking graduate, stop going on these missions!) But I just can't let these ideas go...
Here's the plan:
p.s. if anyone has other good ideas hit me up
It's as bad as overweight cops who eat donuts while sitting in their cars. Whenever I see a fat cop I always want to go up to them and say "tag...you're IT!" and take off to see if they really could catch me...I would personally bet on myself.
So what the hell am I going to do about this disparity? One can say I have big ideas. Now the hard part will be getting them into fruition. (I can already hear my older brother in my head telling me..."Sarah just fucking graduate, stop going on these missions!) But I just can't let these ideas go...
Here's the plan:
- I am trying to start a wellness program for the Spring semester at NYU. It will include speakers from the holistic department, Yoga to the People who will host a live yoga event in Washington Square Park, a Sexologist, Nutritionist to give us or start cooking classes with the students
- The second part of this idea is to work with public schools and pair up nursing and medical school students to work together and build a "pin pal" type of relationship. The NYU students would come and do small talks about why health is important, what goes on at the doctors office, what questions you SHOULD ask and CAN ask (aka sex questions) and get them excited about being in control of THEIR bodies and what they put into them.
- The final part is to host a benefit walk/run where all the schools can compete against the other schools. Or make it an obstacle course. something fun!
p.s. if anyone has other good ideas hit me up
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Big Thought of the Day: Toilet Etiquette
I am in finals at the moment, which means crazy hours in the library. Luckily at NYU we have a huge bathroom on the first floor, which I love since when you have to pee you can usually do it in semi-private.
However, people either love me and always want to come into the stall that is right next to mine or they're simple clueless (I am going with the latter) . Why do people insist on going into the stall that's right next to yours when they have a choice of 20+ other stalls to choose from?
I mean come on peeps let's get a little distance between ourselves, its not like were camping in the outback. It really makes no sense to me. Do people need to hear another person peeing to feel at ease and comfortable? or do they need the noise of another person peeing to trigger their own automatic physiologic response?
Just in case this is new information for people, it's common curiosity to let your neighbors pee in private. This is especially true if you are going into the bathroom to drop a load. I mean honestly, take that s*#% (no pun intended) to another stall and possibly the last stall on the block.
Warm regards,
Miss "Manners" Sarah
However, people either love me and always want to come into the stall that is right next to mine or they're simple clueless (I am going with the latter) . Why do people insist on going into the stall that's right next to yours when they have a choice of 20+ other stalls to choose from?
I mean come on peeps let's get a little distance between ourselves, its not like were camping in the outback. It really makes no sense to me. Do people need to hear another person peeing to feel at ease and comfortable? or do they need the noise of another person peeing to trigger their own automatic physiologic response?
Just in case this is new information for people, it's common curiosity to let your neighbors pee in private. This is especially true if you are going into the bathroom to drop a load. I mean honestly, take that s*#% (no pun intended) to another stall and possibly the last stall on the block.
Warm regards,
Miss "Manners" Sarah
Starting to find my voice
When people tell me that I am such a strong person and how I will just say anything to people and don't care about the consequences, it always makes me take a step back. I think when people say this to me:
1) They have no clue what the heck they're talking about!
2) Maybe I should start caring about the consequences...I thought I cared...but I think they're right it's always a second thought...hummmm that might not be good.
3) The image I project sounds like a kick-ass girl...
I grew-up not caring about what people thought and I was fully SARAH. However, shit happened and I lost the man in my life who let me be fully me. I lost my way for a long time, like a lot of people do in life.
My own image of myself is truly flawed. It amazes me that instead of thinking that I am stronger for going through things in my life, I feel weaker for them. As though I wasn't able to pull myself up by my boot-strings fast enough or well enough as others have done. I mean there are people who lose their whole families, are raped, tortured and they get through these awful experiences to do good in their lives...now that is truly amazing!
Yes, I stand up to people, but that is because the situation is such bullshit and I'm just not good at letting people get away with how they treat others. I am GREAT at standing up for other people! I will give them that. If someone wants to put down one of my friends or family members in my presence they better have their fists up, because I will most likely be swinging. However, when it comes to standing up for my feelings or myself I am just beginning to find my voice again.
Maybe all women go through this, where they never feel good enough or don't know how truly amazing they are, because we are constantly being told that we need to be this or that to be good enough. Don't get me wrong, I fall for this crap everyday. It takes getting out of my own head and focusing on issues of substance to get me out of the running dialog in my head.
However, I am just realizing that I am starting to find that voice of mine again and it's a nice feeling. Because I really missed that little girl who was strong, completely herself and wanted to take the world on!
Maybe people are right, that I don't care how it makes me look. I just am starting to believe it for myself...
1) They have no clue what the heck they're talking about!
2) Maybe I should start caring about the consequences...I thought I cared...but I think they're right it's always a second thought...hummmm that might not be good.
3) The image I project sounds like a kick-ass girl...
I grew-up not caring about what people thought and I was fully SARAH. However, shit happened and I lost the man in my life who let me be fully me. I lost my way for a long time, like a lot of people do in life.
My own image of myself is truly flawed. It amazes me that instead of thinking that I am stronger for going through things in my life, I feel weaker for them. As though I wasn't able to pull myself up by my boot-strings fast enough or well enough as others have done. I mean there are people who lose their whole families, are raped, tortured and they get through these awful experiences to do good in their lives...now that is truly amazing!
Yes, I stand up to people, but that is because the situation is such bullshit and I'm just not good at letting people get away with how they treat others. I am GREAT at standing up for other people! I will give them that. If someone wants to put down one of my friends or family members in my presence they better have their fists up, because I will most likely be swinging. However, when it comes to standing up for my feelings or myself I am just beginning to find my voice again.
Maybe all women go through this, where they never feel good enough or don't know how truly amazing they are, because we are constantly being told that we need to be this or that to be good enough. Don't get me wrong, I fall for this crap everyday. It takes getting out of my own head and focusing on issues of substance to get me out of the running dialog in my head.
However, I am just realizing that I am starting to find that voice of mine again and it's a nice feeling. Because I really missed that little girl who was strong, completely herself and wanted to take the world on!
Maybe people are right, that I don't care how it makes me look. I just am starting to believe it for myself...
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