Monday, October 6, 2008

weekend update

well, i'm a little late getting to daisy's lunch report today. i blame work.

but it was a busy weekend for our daisy.

after an uncomfortable request for a dinner date from ITGuy, Daisy was looking forward to a lovely evening out with Sam Malone. she and sam had a little trouble getting together this summer and fall, because every weekend seems to be someone else's wedding. and they aren't at the wedding date stage. which was part of daisy's mission for the weekend: get invited to sam's sister's wedding.

yeah. i agree: very ambitious.

but our daisy is very savvy.

so, big date saturday night: drinks, then dinner, then more drinks. here's the important part, she got the invite to the wedding and she didn't even have to fish for it. whats more, he was obviously way nervous about asking, because they talked about the wedding for 45 minutes over drinks, let it be, and then he resorted to the obviously pre-rehearsed question during dinner.

poor sam. little did he know daisy was waiting for that very thing.

we'll refrain from discussing how wasted daisy got over the course of the evening. i don't think she embarrassed herself too much.

so now daisy has another wedding this weekend. and a very different date for that one. let's hope she doesn't mix them up...

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

lunch date?

Today I didn’t talk to Daisy until after lunch. “Why?” you ask. Well, she had a lunch date.

Sort of.

And by sort of, I mean she didn’t know it was a lunch date. She knew it was lunch. She knew it was lunch with a coworker. But she didn’t know it was a date. A date with a coworker.

To make matters worse, our classy, stylish Daisy wore a dress to work today. (Bad idea, Daisy.) And heels. (Badder idea, Daisy.)

Anyway, I was gonna go on and on about how pathetic and awkward the whole thing was (Italian chain restaurant, he paid, awkward compliment about how great she looks on the car ride back, etc). But, as I was formulating this blog in my head (in the bathroom, of course) I realized something: ITGuy and I aren’t so far apart. I mean, I’m kind of suave and awesome – neither of which he can claim – but he is, to my understanding, recently divorced and by all indications somewhat depressed. I feel sort of recently divorced and adrift. I could be only a step away from fishing for dates at the office.

So I decided – despite all the obvious signs that this would make a great episode of The Office and is rife for my not-so-unique brand of angry spiteful humor – to go easy on ITGuy.

So Daisy, if you’re reading this, please be very direct with ITGuy. Let him know you’re not interested. And go easy on him. For my sake.

After all, you’re only a quick case of the ugly away from that being you. (Had to get one in.)

Friday, September 26, 2008

simba, you sensitive sop

A few days after Simba's little temper tantrum, Daisy wrote him an email (like two days ago). it was his birthday after all, he was turning the big 3. i mean, 3-0. at least, biologically.

Daisy's email went like this (i'm paraphrasing):
Hey Simba, don't really understand why you flipped out on me. but i'm glad i figured out you were crazy early on. anyway, hope we can still be friends when we run into each other. hope you have a great birthday.

Simba took his time writing back. his email, two days later, went like this (once again, paraphrasing):

Keep in mind, they dated for like a month.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

simba's undoing

So, we are going to take a jump into the present. I realized the big problem with our exploration of Daisy's dating life is that we've come in a bit in medias res. To keep us on track, i'm going to be going back and forth between the present and flashbacks for a while. i'll do my best to make it very clear which is which. But, as i said, today we hop into the present day, like Scott Bakula in the last episode of Quantum Leap (i think...never actually saw that...did he finally get home?).

This past weekend, Daisy got to attend yet another wedding where yet another one of her friends who has had a more fulfilling and successful relationship history was getting married. At this point, Daisy was dating two men. We will call them, for reasons that will become abundantly clear in future posts (if not this one), Simba and Sam Malone. Daisy had decided to take Simba, becuase he is very sensitive and she wanted to see if he would cry at the wedding of two people he didn't even know.

A week before the wedding, Daisy is wavering. She's trying to leave little Simba at home, cause now she'd rather take Sam Malone, who has more or less moved into the pole position. So she calls Simba, and, like your typical self-guilting Jewish princess (did i mention that part yet?), decides she's gonna make Simba bail for her. So she gives him the spiel about how "maybe its too fast, maybe its too much, all her high school friends are gonna be there, her parents are gonna be there...are you really ready for this, Sensitive Little Simba?" Well, presumptuous little Simba responds in the way-too-positive: "Well at this rate, I'm gonna meet them all anyway, so I might as well do it a little earlier than planned."

WHOAH WHOAH WHOAH. calm down there, little lion cub.

But Diasy feels too guilty to say what she really wanted, so she resigns herself to her fate. Next up: call dad and let him know shes bringing a date up to the wedding in Vermont. Dad's seen Father of the Bride six-too-many times, and likes to pretend he's steve martin. So he jokes with Daisy about how he's gonna give Simba a really hard time because he's probably not good enough for his only daughter. Daisy laughs. Daisy's dad is funny and endearing (just like Steve Martin).

So Daisy decides to casually recount the conversation with her dad to Simba. WHO FLIPS THE FUCK OUT. "it might be funny for you and for your dad, but it's not funny for me."

WHOAH WHOAH WHOAH. calm down there, little lion cub.

Daisy tried to change the subject; Simba demands to know why he's always the bad guy. (Hell, i didn't even know there was a bad guy, here.) And after that little rant: CLICK. Simba hung up on our sweet Daisy with the endearing dad.

So, no wedding for Simba.
No nothing for Simba.
Good bye, Simba.
Good luck finding your Nala.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Let's Meet Daisy

So here’s the deal. My name is Nick. A couple months ago I broke up with The Beaver (think Sartre, not Mathers), my live-in girlfriend of 5 years, give or take a previous breakup. So I am single. I am also slightly physically unattractive (though not in any way you’d expect), extremely pessimistic, overly egotistical while simultaneously self-deprecating, and heartbreakingly bored. These traits lead, respectively, to the following manifestations: I’m terrible at picking up women in bars; I don’t expect to be embarking upon any new romantic entanglements anytime soon; as a friend, I am an acquired taste, like sushi; and I’ve got nothing better to do than write this blog.

But all this is massively unimportant, because – did I mention? – this blog isn’t even about me. Instead, your hero is a heroine, and she’s a lot more charming than me. In fact, she is frustratingly, annoyingly charming, which is why I am going to provide you the service of filtering her life into a more digestible substance. I am doing for you the service of a mother bird, processing the nutrients of the gossip of her life, so you can ingest the fascinating story and grow into smart, strong, chirpy little birds. Who will likely later be eaten by a larger bird, or a snake, when I flee the nest out of boredom.

But I haven’t even told you her name. Her name is Daisy. Like the flower, yes. ‘Did she have hippie parents or something?’ you are probably thinking. Maybe. You’ll find out in due time, I’m sure, as will I. See, my exposure to Daisy is somewhat limited. We work together, and frankly I only have substantial conversations with her at lunch, which we tend to getting around to “enjoying” together only a few times a week. Usually, we just bitch about work and work related things – the sort of venting you need to do to stay sane in any office. But lately the topic has increasingly been Daisy herself. More specifically, it has been Daisy’s exciting forays back into the world of dating, or fleeting hookups, or meaningful/less late night rendezvous.

(Actually, she’s very lady like about the details, so that’s all speculation. But you’re gonna see a lot of speculation on this blog. Cause that’s what filters do best: speculate. Right?)

Anyway, back to Daisy. About a month before Nick, your humble narrator/filter, broke up with The Beaver, Daisy broke up with her boyfriend, who we will call Meat (like Bull Durham, not ATHF). She and Meat had been going together for quite some time, and were, it seemed, on the verge of moving in together; followed promptly by the on-bended-knee question that all women in their right mind dream about their entire lives, only to be disappointed by its execution and result; further followed by white dress and stirrups -- for popping out those half-dozen yappy, peach-eating, freedom-constraining, relationship-destroying, diaper-clad little STDs.
I digress.

So Daisy broke is off with Meat, cause she decided he wasn’t “the one” (her words, stolen directly from a bridal magazine, no doubt). Perhaps she took an online relationship quiz at, or perhaps she is a bright, astute, individual woman, or perhaps she has unreasonably high expectations. Her guess is as good as mine, and I’m banking on some combination of all three.

So then she found herself suddenly single, after some 3 years of blissful exclusivity to one thick-necked man. Well, as you may have guessed, it created some sort of unconscious, subliminal, fringe science domino effect: I broke up with The Beaver; and then our other coworker, Eleanor, broke up with her boyfriend, SPPG (as in Slovenly Pseudo-Poet Guy, not Smooth Prada Purchasing Guido).

It is clear to me and my analytical brain that she is entirely to blame for all of this. It is also clear to me that her new single life is far more exciting than mine. It makes me somewhat jealous that she is a happy optimistic person excited to embark upon new opportunities, while I am – well, you can probably figure that out. So, purely out of jealousy and immense and increasing boredom, and amidst the ennui of modern single life, I am here to relay to you the ever evolving story of Daisy, via her Lunch Reports.

I hope to explore the following themes and questions:
1. Can dinner made in a toaster oven be used to seduce a woman?
2. What’s cooler: owning a bar, or sitting on your hairy ass and living off a trust fund?
3. The allure of dates in the park.
4. If I were in the Navy, whose deck would I swab?
5. The ratio of beer to love, and the effect of the price of the beer on said love.
6. Can a single girl really find true love, which obviously doesn’t exist?
7. More poignantly, can a single girl convince herself that true love does exist?
8. I am Jack’s complete lack of surprise.

Next time: more on Daisy, and perhaps a recap of her first foray into the manhunt.