Tag Archives: comedy

The Comeback Kid…or…How MVM Got Her Groove Back

28 Feb

After a significant leave of absence from blogging about the perils of dating and the hilarity that ensues, MVM is making a comeback.

(Cue applause and cheering.)

To begin, let me answer the question I’ve been getting a lot over the past year or so – what happened to the blog?! To put it simply, it was a bit detrimental to my dating life.  I found myself writing blogs in my head before we’d finished the appetizers and going on dates for the purpose of blog fodder, but not much else.  In the few cases that something (or someone,) made it out of the Nickname stage, the writing was already on the walls… (pun intended.)

During my sabbatical, I did my fair share of dating – some of which was significant, some which was less than note-worthy, and some of which I’d plead the fifth about, if asked about in a court of law.

However, one update worth noting is that my single-girl days are a thing of the past – about 8 months past, to be exact. Having met a certain “Traveling Man” – story to come – last year, it’s unlikely you’ll see any (new) first-hand first-date stories from this monogamous blogger.

Now, now, don’t fret fair readers; just because I now get a standard “plus one” on my invites doesn’t mean that my outlook has changed.  I’m still the same biting social observer, here to bring you a unique spin on everything dating.  True to my former serial-dating self, (and conducive to the Traveling Man’s erratic cross-country work schedule,) I still manage to get myself into a healthy dose of trouble and a fair amount of surprising scenarios.

In the return of the blog, I’ll still be sharing experiences and anecdotes, doling out (sometimes harsh, sometimes hilarious,) advice, and in general, providing (what I hope to be) generally entertaining reading material for your mid-afternoon lull or the occasional “Case of the Mondays.”  There’s a whole world of material in a new relationship, and I’ve got enough single friends to inspire new content for years.

So keep your eye out each Monday, because as always, all is fair in love and blogging.


Rolling With The Punches

31 Jul

Sometimes things just don’t turn out as you planned.   People flake, events get canceled, plans change.  How you deal with the unexpected is the fun part.

Last night, I went to a comedy show that a friend of mine runs here in San Diego, (you can check him out at http://malhall.com.)  I had organized a group of about six people, including myself, to meet at the show.  A girlfriend of mine picked me up and as were driving to the show, I got a text from one of my friends saying that she couldn’t make the show, but she’d meet up for a drink afterward.  Slight change, but it didn’t really affect my plans.  As we were parking the car, I got a call from my friend saying that his group of three couldn’t make it to the show either, but to let them know where to meet up after the show.  Okay, no big deal…a few less people, I’d still have Jackie, the friend I drove with, and a great comedy show to boot.

At the entrance of the club, I handed my ID to the bouncer as Jackie rooted around in her purse for hers.   (Ladies, we’ve all been there.  Guys, you’ve seen women do this before…they reach their arm so far deep in their purse, it looks like they’re slowly being eaten by the purse anaconda until they pull their arm out triumphantly, ID in hand, victorious in their hunt.)  We were running a bit late and I was waiting (im)patiently while Jackie played the “where’s my wallet?” game, (much different than the “hide the sausage” game, but the goal is the same – pull it out in time.)  After a few minutes of this, her hand emerged from the purse, defeated, as she realized that she’d forgotten her ID at home…forty miles north of the comedy club.

We decided she’d head home to pick up her ID and she (along with the rest of my crew,) would meet up after the show.

Not being one to let a little snafu ruin my evening, I went into the club and started mingling with some people in the audience.  By the time the show started, I had a few new friends and a drink in hand.  The comedians were hilarious, as per Mal Hall’s usual lineup.  One comic in particular was so funny that I decided I’d have to chat him up after his set.

As I cozied up to the bar to get a refill, (Guinness, if you’re wondering,) I spotted The Comedian and started up some casual conversation.  We not only clicked immediately, but we were cracking each other up for the next twenty minutes.  (He’s a professional comedian, so that can be expected on his part.  As for me…well, I guess I’m just that awesome…and, as clearly illustrated here, overwhelmingly modest.)

During a pause in the conversation, I checked my phone only to find texts from ALL of my friends saying that they weren’t going to make it out, for various reasons.  I laughed out loud, (“LOL” if you only speak text,) and filled The Comedian in on the reason for my outburst.

Now, some might have looked at this night like a bust, with all my friends canceling on me, not only once, but twice, in one evening.  Some people would have called it a night and headed home disappointed.  Me? I looked at it as an opportunity.  Here I was, having a great time with a hilarious (and adorable,) guy, with no obligations for the rest of the night!  So…what did we do?  We went on a date of course.

We had a drink, went to a nearby lounge to grab some dinner, then talked and laughed the night away.  In fact, it was kind of an incredible date, he pointed out several times how much we “clicked” and how fun we were together.  As we parted ways at the end of the night, he asked my favorite question…

“So, when do I get to see you again?”

We made plans for next week and I JUST might have gotten an invitation to be his date for an upcoming guest spot on one of my favorite late night talk shows!

I’m sharing this story not just to toot my own horn, (though, come on….toot toot,) but because I think there’s an underlying lesson here.  Instead of letting a change in plans get you down or keep you from enjoying yourself, roll with the punches.  Life is a lot more fun that way.

Remember: If you’d like to submit a question or funny story for the Mid-Week Meltdown, send an email to myvaginamonoblogs@gmail.com, with your name, age, gender, and a little something about yourself.  I try to answer all questions in a timely manner.

Peace and Good Luck

29 May

I feel compelled to share an embarrassing story with the world today.  Here goes:

A few months ago, I went on a match.com first date (shocking, I know.)  “The Lawyer” was a very attractive and witty guy, and we had a great repartee via email and on the phone.  In fact, our first phone call lasted over 45 minutes!  (For those of you who don’t know me, I often speak at the same rate as the Micro Machines spokesperson, so 45 minutes on the phone with me is equivalent to about 3 hours.)

Our date went really well – we had good chemistry, the conversation flowed freely, and it seemed that all systems were go.  When he dropped me off at my place and walked me to my door, there wasn’t really any kind of awkward moment.  (You know that moment.  The “I’m going in for a hug, but it might turn into a kiss, and I wouldn’t really mind if it turned into a kiss, but if he goes in for a hug too, then I don’t want him to know that I was hoping for more than a hug” moment.)

No awkward moment.  He planted one on me, and I literally felt my knees go weak.  It was an end-of-a-romantic-comedy style kiss.  It was a holy-crap-how-did-my-panties-end-up-around-my-ankles kiss.  It was an earth-mover.  You get the idea.  (Note: the panty comment wasn’t literal, don’t get any ideas.)

I went inside and he went home, and that was it.  I updated The Council (my core group of friends who comment and advise me on my dating debaucles,) the next day about the lip-lock and decided to let him initiate contact next.

And so I waited.

And wait I did.  6(ish) days later, I decided enough was enough, so I sent a text that said this:

“I’m kind of an awesome date…so this ‘not asking me out again’ business seems odd.”

His almost immediate response was this:

“You were an awesome date.  Peace and good luck.”

Um.  I’m sorry.  What? Was I missing sosmething?

a.) great conversation

b.) chemistry

c.) great kiss

Nope, that seems to be everything…

I took it to The Council  and they were just as boggled as I was.  In fact, the ONLY thing that was clear was his message.  Peace and good luck does not exactly scream, “Let’s elope in Vegas this weekend!”  And it definitely didn’t warrant a response.  So, I deleted his number and called it a day.

I guess you just can’t win them all.

Sweaty Phelps

15 May

I had a date with another match.com-er this week. (…De ja vu much?  I feel like I’ve started more than a few blogs with that sentence…)

We grabbed some sushi and then hit up a comedy club to see some local acts.  Couple things to mention here:

1.) I tend to take a lot of my dates to my favorite local sushi place, where the owners me…AND my blog.  They appreciate the business and they get a kick out of all the guys that roll through.

2.) Seeing someone’s sushi etiquette and preferences always tell me a bit about them.  If they order California rolls and can’t use chop sticks to save their life, I know what I’m getting myself into.  (I know.  Kind of rude.  Not everyone has to like raw fish; however it’s kind of like a girl who doesn’t know a thing about football, right?  …And yes, I probably qualify as that girl.)

3.) Comedy clubs make for great dates – you get a feel for their sense of humor AND you always have a great time, whether or not you end up being remotely attracted to your date. **Spoiler alert: this comes in handy later that evening.

Ok, so he picked me up at my place, and the first thing I notice is that his hair is still wet.  No big deal – just an observation, I’m sure he just jumped in the shower right before he picked me up.  Totally normal.

We go to sushi, where he opens the door for me, lets me order, AND is game for sharing some hot sake.  All good things.  Dinner goes well – no major lulls in conversation – and as we’re getting ready to leave, I note that his hair still appears wet.  Hmm…odd.  He’s got a pretty full head of wavy-ish hair, so maybe it’s just taking a REALLY long time to dry.  Though that doesn’t really explain why his face seems quite shiny as well, unless his still soaking wet hair has been dripping…

We head to the comedy show, grab some cocktails and make with the small talk.  Our conversation goes well – joke joke here, joke joke there, funny aside, etc – and the time passes easily.  After awhile, I almost don’t notice the just-got-out-of-the-pool look anymore…almost being the operative word.

The first few comedians in a local lineup are generally pretty horrible, and this night was no exception.  (Telling the audience that you have to hurry because your kids are waiting in the car?  Not funny and I kind of thought I should call Child Protective Services.) It always makes for an extremely uncomfortable time, when you’re not sure who you feel worse for – the comedian or the audience.  (In this case, it’s a toss up.)  After the first few acts, the comedians get better (and/or we have a few more cocktails,) and the crowd is roaring with laughter in no time.  (In fact, I HAVE to give a shout out to this hilarious local comedian Ken Rahn – check out his site: http://kenrb.com He sang a song called, “No Reason Boner,” you CAN’T not love that.)

After the “head liners,” the comedy really starts going downhill, and we decide to jet.  I’ll be honest…even though the conversation was good, and he was a super nice guy, I just REALLY wasn’t feeling him.  In fact…I’d been eyeing one of the comedians all night, and was trying to figure out how to make a move on the sly.  (Again, kind of rude, but believe me, if you’d seen this guy, you’d understand. Stage presence AND bulging biceps?  Yes, please.)

On the way out, I stop to chat with (and compliment,) the comics, and figure that blatantly flirting is probably out of the question.  (See? I have morals.)  BUT, asking for his business card iss totally acceptable – I mean, I JUST want to help promote the guy’s comedy!

Anyhow, as he drops me off at my place, I note my date’s still-shiny face and hair are just NOT giving it up, and I bid him adieu.

Though I wouldn’t say he earned a gold medal of any kind that night, (unless Pantene Pro-V is now doling out awards,) but he did earn himself the nickname “Michael Phelps.”

**Thanks to Kevin for helping out with the nickname – without you, I’d still be calling him Babyface.