Sunday, November 20, 2011

Nobody is really dead...

I watch too much TV. A good chunk of that time is taken up by soap operas. When I first started watching soaps with my mom- I mean really watching, not just mocking her show in the background during school days off, or pretending not to listen back in my preschool days- she taught me "nobody is really dead on soap operas." I remember General Hospital was the first soap we started watching together- it began shortly after I got home from middle school. One of the first "soapy" deaths I recall was a character named Cesar Faison. He blew up in some sort of boat explosion, but my mom said, "he's not dead." I couldn't understand, the boat very clearly exploded while he was STANDING RIGHT ON IT! I argued this with her, but she maintained her stance that he would be alive. She was right. A few weeks later his character reappeared. Ten people can see the person's dead body, attend the funeral, and bury the person, but he'll be back. One Life to Live, I'm looking at you with Victor's "death" here, since we all know he'll be back. In the ten plus years I've been watching soap operas I have seen more "deaths" and reappearances (sometimes with new faces as well) than I can count. That is why sometimes the thought crosses my mind, what if real life worked like this? I think occasionally that my mom will walk back into my life, "oops, I've actually been alive the last four years. Those ashes you spread in California? Those were from the vacuum." I've had vivid dreams where this has happened. Sometimes they feel so real I wake up looking for my mom and calling her name. Maybe I'll hear a noise in my bathroom, pull open the shower curtain, and there she'll be using up my expensive cleanser (that's really hers). What is it Mark Twain said, "the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated"? I never saw her pass, and how does somebody go from being completely coherent to gone in just a matter of two or three weeks? Days really. What exactly does cancer do to just shut off a person's body? I'm calling bullshit. She's been hiding out in France all this time, studying how to become a Limoges box maker. Okay, maybe not, but one can dream, right? I blame my soaps, and my mom for getting me hooked on said soaps. But if you are out there somewhere... please come back in time for the new Dallas reboot to start next summer. I miss you.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Dating Game

After college it gets harder and harder to meet people (esp guys) your own age. Sports leagues can be fun, but after your sport is over people sometimes wander off and become busy again. Working in a pediatric office, the only guys I come across are teenage patients and people's fathers. Neither of those are viable options. Ick. There was a really cute drug rep once, but he was redistricted before I got a chance to really get to know him. I keep telling them to hire a cute, single, male doc, but apparently it's illegal to hire people specifically with those requirements. HMPH, LAWS. I always hear about people going to singles events in Hoboken and NYC, so when I saw a sign for one in Tart and Tufo I decided to sign right up!

Tonight's event was supposed to be "The Dating Game". When I called to RSVP they asked for my age, and then asked if I would like to be a contestant. Ready for an adventure, I said sure! Super excited, I rushed home, blew out my hair (which takes forever and a ton of patience), and did some really killer makeup. I was looking pretty nice after all that effort!

I got to Pazzo Pazzo and was greeted by the event coordinators, two women in their late fifties (at least). One of them looked just like Patricia Clarkson, which I found interesting. That was probably the only interesting part of the night... I arrived right on time, and thought maybe the rest of the young people were running late. There were two other men there, both in their late fifties to early sixties and another woman, also older. Another guy walked in, closer to my age at maybe late thirties, early forties. Still, no young people. I talked to one of the older guys, still looking around for the other young'ns to walk in. They set up the "stage" for the gameshow. There weren't even enough people there to play the game show. As I snacked on some appetizers, Patricia Clarkson asked if we minded waiting another twenty minutes for more people to arrive. I really hoped she meant the whole crowd of twenty-somethings.

I was talking to the "younger" guy, who was majorly into the fact that he's a landlord, desperately waiting for the real party to get started. Since I despise landlords right now, it wasn't really the most exciting topic for me. We spoke about a few of the restaurants in Morristown, but somehow it went back to real estate, and the latest place he bought. I couldn't figure out his age, until he told me a story about a bartender he was friendly with, who figured out he had been serving this guy for nearly thirty years. Even if this guy started getting into bars and drinking at FIFTEEN he was still way too old for me. To me, dating an older guy means dating somebody in their early thirties. HELLO I'M NOT THAT OLD! Even worse, people tell me I look like I'm a teenager, so weren't these coordinators a little confused when I showed up? Meanwhile, two women walked in who were most likely in their sixties.

"Question one: what do you do in your spare time?"
Bachelor #1- "I keep up my properties around the area. Did I mention I'm a landlord for several properties?"

The event started, and a guy dressed in seventies garb did "The Dating Game" trivia, which I had no idea of, since I wasn't alive in the seventies. The kind of trivia that you had to be there to know, rather than see a few clips here and there, and maybe an episode once or twice on GSN during a sick day before onDemand was created. I was starting to panic, since I didn't want to be courted by guys older than my dad and the landlord. As it is, the host tried to get me to give my number out. He chatted up the ladies who arrived late. What are they doing this weekend? Visiting their grandchildren.

"Question two: where do you like to go on vacation?"
Bachelor #2- "I spend my winters in Boca."

Was I going to have to go out on a date with one of these guys? I texted Kathy "Everybody is old. Get me out of here." Kathy texted me and told me to get out of there ASAP, feel no guilt. I couldn't figure out a polite way to do so. At my request, she called me up on the phone. "Are you okay?! OMG, calm down, calm down, I'm coming now!" I said into the phone. I said to the coordinator "I HAVE TO pick up my friend, she's having an emergency, she needs me." "Will you be coming back?" she asked. "I'll try my best! I don't know..." and I ran out. RAN. I felt guilty leaving the landlord in the dust, and the game without a bachelorette, but I didn't owe anybody there anything. I think Patricia Clarkson and partner owe ME $15. So here goes- NEVER EVER USE MORRIS COUNTY SINGLES.

"Question three- do you like to ski?"
Bachelor #3- "I used to go with my grandkids, but since my hip replacement I haven't been able to."

I was there for about an hour and a half, but it was so awful I'd swear it was at least three hours. I was just so disappointed. I had high hopes for the night, and so did every single person I mentioned the event to. Not one person said, hey do you think it'll only be a bunch of old people? I don't think I was jumping to a crazy conclusion, was I? If you were the coordinator, would you warn a 26 year old girl that not a single person her age had RSVP'd? Where does that fall on the business ethics scale?

Luckily, dodgeball starts up again in October. I'll be exposed to more people my own age again, and maybe even some eligible bachelors. I won't get to be a contestant on the dating show, but at least I'll be mingling with people who may be in the same peer circles as my grandmothers.

*the questions may have been exaggerated ideas in my head, since I ran away before they started the game