Coffee with the Surfer

I hope all of you killer ladies out there had a great Christmas. Mine was fantastic! I got tons of great presents, including an adorable diamond “Gemma” necklace just like the “Carrie” necklace from Sex and the City. Too cool! Also a Barnes & Noble gift card I will be putting to good use, some blinged out bracelets, and an Andy Warhol “shoes” mouse pad. Love it all! Of course, Santa did overlook my request to have Johnny Depp tied up au naturale with a bow under my tree, but I guess I’ll just have to work on being an even better girl in 2008 for that gift. I did spend the day with family and friends, playing with all our new toys, and, instead of doing the hand up the turkey’s you-know-what that Christie braved (you are my hero, girl), we had Christmas pizzas with red and green peppers on top. And Irish cream martinis – yum, to die for!

With all the merry making over, I’ve turned my sights to the new year and one of my favorite things about this season – New Year's resolutions. I have a few this year, some professional, some personal. But there is one stand out for me this year: My best friend Suze and I have both resolved to find Mr. Right in 2008, even if it means we have to go through the entire west coast supply of single men in the process. So, look out – you all will be getting my bad date recaps in spades this year!

So, to get a jump-start… I have a coffee date this afternoon. A thirty-something computer guru ($) slash surfer (anyone else having flashbacks of Keanu Reeves circa Point Break?). Mr. Surfer is a single dad of two little munchkins (responsible!), lives near the beach (location, location, location) and loves to go out dancing (never a bad thing to have a man that knows how to move). We’re meeting at 1pm, so I’ll add an update here post-date. Wish me luck!

In the meantime, anyone else have 2008 resolutions they want to share?

Update!
There are days I hate being a woman. WARNING: This is not for the faint of heart. If you are male, read no further. Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you…

So, I put on my cute outfit, pair of earrings, fluff the hair up a little. I work out my emergency plan with Suze. (“If he’s awful, I go in the bathroom, text you 911, and you call me back in two minutes to say the house is on fire.”) Then, I brave the drizzly weather, hop in my little car and get to the coffee place a few minutes early. (You know, ‘cause it’s always good to scope out possible escape routes ahead of time.) I grab a latte and settle into a table near the window with the latest JD Robb book to wait for Mr. Wonderful to arrive.

But, here’s the thing. Something about the anticipation of a blind date makes me incredibly nervous. Which in turn makes me have to pee. So, I get up and go visit the ladies’ room. Guess what I find? (Yeah, this is the part that will squick the guys out.) Aunt Flo has come for an early visit. Two minutes before Mr. Wonderful is due to arrive! I frantically dig in my purse before remembering I used my last emergency goody at the mall last month and forgot to replenish the purse. I’ve got nothing. And, this being a little neighborhood coffee house, they don’t have any of those handy throw-in-a-quarter-get-out-a-goody machines either. I’m sunk. So, I do the only thing I can. I grab a handful of paper towels and pull my stretchy shirt down way over my butt so no tell-tale bulge is visible. Okay, so very little tell-tale bulge is visible. I figure I can quickly slink back to my table, grab my book, hightail it home for goodies, then get back here only marginally late for the date.

So, feeling like I’m wearing some sort of funky diaper, I waddle my way back to my table. Just as… (you guessed it)… Mr. Wonderful walks in the door. And wouldn’t you know it, he’s adorable in person. Sigh. I quickly sit down at the table (lest he notice my bulgy butt) and let the little hamster in my head run a marathon as I try to figure out what to do next. I can go back to the bathroom, text Suze, and wait for her emergency call. The only problem with this is that he will definitely get a great view of bulgy butt as I walk across the room again. Not to mention, he’s really cute! The last thing I want is for him to think I’m ditching him.

I briefly contemplate plan B, telling him the truth, but realize if I go with that plan he’ll be the one calling his phone-a-friend for a fake emergency escape route.

Which leaves me only one more option. I cross my legs, hold my breath, and pray he doesn’t notice as I nod, smile and try to make witty small talk. (Call me a multi-tasker.)

And apparently, even with Aunt Flo looming over me, I succeed. He asked if I'd like to go out again sometime. To which I readily agreed. Only, this time, I will definitely make sure I have an emergency stash on hand. Never leave home without them, girls!


~Gemma "Trigger Happy" Halliday