A single glance.

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Since the official opening of this blog I have done little to fulfill my mission.  That is, I’ve done nothing but sit back and complain without doing much more than logging onto a couple of dating websites.  But, OkCupid aside, what have I accomplished? Nothing.  
That’s why today was the day that I decided to do something and, since my hair was straight enough, that something was going to be…drum roll please… the room crossing, wordless interacting, stare. 
Keeping her prey in sight.
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That’s right everyone.  I did what all our mothers told us not to do when we were children.  I picked out the prettiest faces, even a few less-than pretty faces and made eye contact with them. 
From what I’d learned, through some quick online research, there are definite lines that shouldn’t be crossed when starting this eyes-only love kindling.  
First, there are the kinds of stares that you use.  Yes, there are kinds.  There’s the come hither stare, the “I’m feeling a little flirty” stare, and the wide-eyed “damn you’re sexy” stare.  Try to avoid the later.  You don’t want to look desperate and, in general, almost anything wide-eyed looks desperate.  
Then there is timing.  This will not be effective without acknowledging the fact that if you stare at someone for too long then you will undoubtedly transform into the outcast girl from “The Breakfast Club.” We don’t want that.  Contain that look into a three second period and, as almost every site and blog has agreed upon, look down and smile.  Then, after 15 seconds, look up.  If he is still perplexed and now staring at you, then go ahead, do it again.  Just don’t get carried away.  He might think you have some sort of tick if you keep looking up and down.  


My Results:
Let’s just say that I still get aw-struck when hot guys are around and, since I like hot guys, I was giving off too much of the “damn you’re sexy” look and too little of the “I’m feeling flirty.”  
This deer will get some
action with that stare.
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In my mind I was captivating every man that crossed my path.  One look and, bam, they fell for me.  One, two, three.  I counted it in my head and I heard every boy sigh with regret when, at three, I looked away.  But when I looked back up at them they would still be staring excitedly.  Close up on my eyes.  Close up on his eyes.  Double close up on our eyes. 
But, as I said, that was all in my mind.  For the most part I couldn’t get out of my head and therefore looked more like a confused deer trying to get some action.  This just proves that I’m not ready for this form of flirting.  That’s fine. I’ll just keep playing the online field in the minor leagues.  

A single hero.

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Nintendo 64 has recently graced my living room again and with it has come all the wonderful memories of childhood accomplishments: saving Zelda, getting all the stars, dodging green shells…  
J-Biebs saves the princess.
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And with those memories also came the realization that all I had learned to believe as a child was just a gimmick thought up by little men in business suits who were trying to make other pathetic people think their lives could actually be meaningful.  Are you a short, chunky plumber? Then of course you would be able to jump, fight, and fly your way to the princess and save the day!
But apparently short, chunky plumbers didn’t take the hint because they are definitely not trying to jump, fight and fly in order to impress the ladies.
I want a boy, whose only friend is a fairy, to learn how to ride a horse, make some significant wardrobe changes, get a cool sword and warp ahead seven years just so he can fight an angry ginger and save me (for some, we would have to call him “Justin Bieber”).  Does this boy has flaws? Sure, ever boy does but maybe his journey will improve him and, if not, then I can just focus on the fact that he did just drop everything to save me.
In short, to quote a wise woman named Bonnie Tyler, I’m holding out for a hero.  I’m not asking for anything crazy to happen to me, although I have always wondered what Bowser is like in person (I feel like he would have a good sense of humor), but it would be nice to feel protected by someone.  
All you guys out there, go pick up your N64 controller and get some lessons on how to impress the ladies.  It just takes some stars and some determination.






A single lesbian.

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I’m still not playing for the other team but I’m often associated as a pinch hitter by various family members, friends, and priests.  Hey, I’m hardly offended, I’ve heard they have a good time.  I’m just curious how I became associated with the title.  It’s not like I’m jumping every girl that walks into the room and I hardly wear a sign on myself that states “I’m a lesbian” anymore.  I don’t really fill any stereotypes but I’ve never been a big fan of the stereotype to begin with; you like who you like regardless of how much plaid you wear or how many years of softball that you played.
But, in honor of these outdated stereotypes, I’ve decided to judge a couple of them here for you; one non-lesbian’s desperate attempt to right all wrongs against, not just her, but all the other single ladies out there, straight or gay, who have been a target of labels that aren’t justified.  
Let’s start out with the obvious, shall we?
Softball –
Yup, I played softball.  I was a pitcher too. According to some standards that means I’m pretty butch.  Obviously, if I’m on a team with only girls then I can’t be interested in boys, right?  I guess it’s whatever makes the man feel better about his sexuality because apparently he doesn’t feel secure enough to trust that a girl would still like him after playing ball – can we blame him? Softballs are a lot bigger.
Plaid and other clothing –
I know plenty of men who wear plaid but they aren’t immediately attached to some stigma when they do it.  I don’t wear plaid, it’s more of a personal “I don’t like plaid” choice here, but if I did I would want to wear it proudly.  In fact, I might just change my mind on plaid.  Wear it just to get back at everyone else.  
While we’re here let’s talk about how certain clothes can make a person look like a lesbian.  My friend, Alex, has a hat called the “Lesbian Hat.”  Why? Because a friend jokingly decided that it makes her look like a lesbian.  So do we help the anti-stereotype cause? No.  But it’s a good example of how something that makes a person look femme or butch is considered an indicator of their sexual orientation.  In our society A+B always equals C.  So a girl (A) + a plaid shirt/or Lesbian Hat (B) equals a lesbian (C).  
According to these standards, it really is too bad I don’t like girls, I had the makings for a fine lesbian. Embrace your stereotypes, whether your gay or straight, and let’s rock this society for it’s branding tendencies.  Rock on.