She got GAME!

UPDATE:  Mom has called me twice from the restaurant to confirm that yes, in fact, Todd is taking care of them and is awesome, nice, and hot.  Oh, and that the food is fabulous.  She was on dessert number 4 the second time she called me.  Seriously, if I didn't think I was a Desperate Housedaughter before, I think having a mom that has cooler weekend plans than you with random celebrities she befriends at lunch makes you pretty D.H.-y.  Fo' realz.



EARLIER TODAY:
Ohhhhh NO you will not believe the phone call I just got from my mom who is currently partying it up (under the guise of a dental conference) in NYC with her fellow Iranian lady dentist friends!!!!  WHOOAOAOA!!!!

Apparently my mom and her lady friends decided to head to the Park Plaza (pronounced PAhhhk Plahhhzahhh) hotel for lunch, cause, they fancy.  So I guess at the Park Plaza they seat you at long tables, so you end up sitting with other random people.  So this handsome man sits next to my mom and greets her.  She greets him back, and they have a short conversation.  When she turns back to her friends, they're all FREAKING OUT.  Why???  Because that dude is TODD ENGLISH.  YES.  And so my mom turns back and starts talking to Todd again, and they become insta-besties.  That's right, my mom got game.

So Todd and my mom and her friends chit chat and finally Todd says, "do you ladies have plans for tonight?"  To which my mom says, "no, not yet!"  So Todd says, "I'm opening my new restaurant Crossbar tonight.  Would you please join me at the opening?  I'll take care of you."  My mom was all, "let me check with my friends, Todd, and we'll get back to you."  Ok, that was in my imagination.  What they really said was, "YES YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES," and then squealed with delight.

My mom calls me, and casually mentions that Todd English invited her to dinner.  WHAT A PLAYA!!!! 

Mom, you outdo me all the time, and I'm so proud!  Go shake it, sister!  And mention to any celebrity you meet that I have an awesome blog and that my sister is a stand-up comedienne.  Oh, and take lots of pictures - me and my readers need the dish (pun intended)!

Online Dating...is fun?

Desperate Housedaughter is single and ready to mingle!  Ok, that's kind of a lie.  I'm single and hesitant to mingle.  I'm generally afraid of people and prefer to watch Ugly Betty reruns rather than, well, a lot of stuff.  Because of this proclivity, you can imagine that although I go out quite often and try new things, I tend to do so with my Mom or other person with whom I have solid rapport already.  Mom, you're in NYC this weekend partying with your friends!  I miss you!

Yeah that's right I just gave a shout-out to my Mom.  Due to being a 28 year old who gives mom shout-outs on her blog, I've had many friends suggest to me that I buck up, join the current population of Earth instead of continuing to behave like I'm in Ye Olde Days, and sign up for online dating.  I reminded them that I came to blogging about 15 years too late, but they said that's no excuse and I need to get on board more quickly.  So, finally, after much struggle and waves of nausea, I signed up for one of them websites last weekend.

My friends have been SO SUPER EXCITED!!!!  They've helped me with my profile, decided on pictures, and were, and are, generally all perky and encouraging.  Despite their efforts, however, instead of feeling like this about online dating:

I feel more like this:

My friend Anna told me not to have a bad attitude.  Oh, Anna, while you speak words of wisdom, you know I'm incapable of following them!  I'm a Virgo and I know that if I don't like something right away that I will probably never like it.  There have been exceptions to this, of course, but yeah.  Does not bode well.  And let me admit that I have a VERY bad attitude about online dating.

I got the standard creeps right away sending me messages like, "you r hot.  nice pics" and "let's get together and speak Persian" but written in Persian/English.  LAAAME.  The danged thing even matched me with a high school friend's older brother.  That was particularly enlightening, especially because I had a minor week-long crush on that kid when I was 14.  But I digress.

Then I got messages from two seemingly nice, normal guys.  They both have jobs, are into music, are freakishly tall (not a requirement, but entertaining nonetheless), and are age appropriate.  Despite their on-the-surface normalcy and my attempt at open-mindedness, I gotta tell you, I have pretty much no interest in meeting either one of them in a romantic type of setup. 

This is my question, and here, beautiful readers, you can advise me since you all are brilliant and go on many dates and aren't holed up like this Desperate Housedaughter:  How does one figure out dating?  I realize this is the age-old question, and many tv shows, movies, and books have been dedicated to it, but it's like I'm feeling it for the first time!  I am CLUELESS. 

Do I go on dates like I go on job interviews - to even the ones I'm pretty sure I don't want just to get more practice and give it a shot, or do I not think of it like that because it's a real dude and his real $25 buying me dinner?  I don't freaking know.  Help me, readers!  I have no idea what I'm doing, and I'm not sure I'm that into it, so I beseech you to help me figure out what to do and improve my attitude!  Comment me some advice, you lovelies, cause I NEED IT.

Pants

I'm generally an advocate of pants.  They're fun and cover up people's usually gross/too hairy legs, mine included.  Just to be clear, I mean real, honest, well-fitted, full-length pants, such as these:

Not these:

or anything else attempting to be pants, i.e. leggings, jeggings, or tights of varied opacity.  Please, people, they ain't pants.

Being a Desperate Housedaughter, though, I don't always need to be worried about the appropriateness of my pants.  Who the heck is looking at me while I'm sitting home all day?  The cat?  She doesn't wear pants! 

There are times, though, when I have to put on the pants.  Like for example, 5 minutes ago.  I ordered a salad for lunch, and since gas is $587.32 per gallon, I feel less bad these days about paying $1 per item for delivery.  It saves me trouble, and money.  The only problem with ordering delivery, though, is that I have to put on some pants.

My typical uniform of housedaughteriness is a college t-shirt (GO HOP!), some inappropriate mid-length harem shorts thing I bought from Old Navy, and my at-home glasses (not to be confused with my in public glasses - my at home glasses are more German Architect while my in public glasses are more Sexy Librarian).  But when the delivery man is coming, the jeans must be put on.  I want him to keep delivering me my salad, so I figure it's a fair trade.

What kind of pants do you wear at home, if any (you saucy readers)? 

"Rick Cohen" of Minnesota, WTF?

"Rick Cohen" of Minnesota just gave me a call.  Before I go into the details of the call, I'd like you to know that when you google "Rick Cohen Minnesota," it goes to a state representative's page - Richard Cohen.  But no, friends, Rep. Richard "Dick" Cohen didn't call me, Rick Cohen (or so he claims) called me.  Why, you may ask?

My convo with Rick went something like this:

Me:  Hello?

Rick:  Hello?

Me:  Yes, hello.

Rick:  Hello.  How are you?

Me:  Fine, how are you.

Rick:  I'm Rick Cohen.

Me:  Good for you.

Rick:  Blah blah blah blah blah I'm trying to get in touch with your neighbor so and so, do you know them?

Me:  No.  [Pause - slight embarrasment and shame that no, I have no idea who these people are.  And there are only 6 houses on my street.  EEeek we New Englanders take this stoicism way too far.  Maybe I should get to know my neighbors?  Block party?]  How did you get my number? 

Rick:  From blahby blah insurance blah manual with names and addresses blah.

Me:  Mmm hmm.  Hold on.  [Me going to the computer, googling Rick Cohen.  Is this a senator?].  Ok, yes?

Rick:  So they own a travel agency and I have an important issue.  They are not picking up.

Me (thoughts to self):  WTF?  This guy is weird.  What's he calling about?  Is this mad shady?  Is this this guy's way of picking his victims if he's a serial killer?  Maybe I should hang up?  Maybe he's just some nice midwesterner confused by our New England cold blooded ways?  No, this is shady.

Me (now to Rick again): Mmm hmmm.  I don't even know you, so why would I give them your message?  Bye. 

Then I further googled the phone number Rick provided, and it turns out it's JSA Collections.  Fun!  I love debt collectors.  One time this guy called our house 500 times a day, insisting that someone with a last name similar to my mother's, but not hers, lived here and that we were lying.  He was soooo aggressive and rude and would say the most unbelievable things over the phone.  [Sidebar - reminded me of when I lived in DC, and within 5 hours of hooking up my home phone, I had 7 calls from debtors for 7 DIFFERENT people.  Before 24 hours was over I got rid of my land line].  Luckily, here chez les parents, I live in a small town where the police have time to help with this stuff, so they called the debtor back and insisted that whomever he was searching for did not in fact live in my house.  Thanks po-po! 

Basically, this Rick was calling neighbors to see if they could help him in his debt collection.  WHAT?  I googled this concept immediately.  Apparently, it's totally legal for debt collectors to call neighbors or co-workers or anyone whose number they can get their hands on in order to collect a debt.  However, they apparently must stop calling neighbors and others if those people tell them to stop.  I assume I'll be testing that theory sometime soon.

Rick Cohen, here's a written warning to you:  STOP CALLING MY HOUSE.  If you call again, you'll face my wrath.  And no, I'm not going to go talk to my neighbors re: their delinquency.  For one thing, I don't even know what they look like, and this isn't the way to find out!  For another thing, it is WAY tacky to call people's neighbors and shame them into paying their debts.  I mean, honestly. 

Please, dear readers, tell me your own debtor stories in the comments!  I love to share these horrible stories so we can all feel solidarity!

Shut Up and Drive

We almost got into no less than 5 accidents last night (one right in front of a cop - super!) because my mom was too busy dancing to pay attention to being behind the wheel.  Fueled by ice cream and Iranian music, concentration had no chance to win over booty-shaking.  She probably should have just pulled over, danced, and then drove.