I Should Have Known Five-Hundred, Twenty-Five Thousand, Six Hundred Minutes Ago that You'd be my Ex-Boyfriend

My high school boyfriend loved RENT. At the time, I'd never seen the play, the movie didn't exist yet, and I had very little idea of what it was about. I knew vague things like, it was about AIDS and homosexuality. Being the superliberal I am, I figured, well, all these people like it, its about counter-culture-ish topics, its probably good, right? Fast-forward a few years, boy, was I wrong!

I am a bleeding heart, tree-hugging liberal atheist, who also loves musicals. Granted, the musicals I like tend to be more of the "My Fair Lady," "Singin' in the Rain," Gene Kelly-esque persuasion. But I HATED RENT. Seriously, I'm expected feel sorry for a bunch of lazy, good-for-nothing "artiste" types who don't want to pay their damn rent? Really? Really? What makes them so special that they don't have to pay rent like the rest of the world? Oh, sorry, I forgot. It's because they are bohemian, misunderstood "artists." Please disregard the fact that they fail to produce anything resembling art. One guy pieces together home movies. Yeah, my fiance's sister did that for her family's Christmas presents last year. It was entertaining for those of us who knew the people, but I would scarcely call it art. Another manages to write one song and carries a guitar around all year, but the most you hear from it is a couple of chords. Oh, and the martyr of RENT kills a dog for money. Yep, these are very sympathetic people. Frankly, by the time the AIDS stuff became a major theme, I'd already grown to despise the characters so much I couldn't have cared less that they had AIDS or Ebola or Dengue fever.

Seriously, societal norms exist for a reason. They make the world function (relatively) smoothly and peacefully. I dislike movies/plays that try to convince people that following society's rules is "selling out" (God, I hate that phrase). Sure, I can support and applaud art that points out and condemns discrimination and other things that are truly harmful. But paying the fucking rent? Are you kidding me? Get a job, hippie.

A far more effective play/movie would have been about a group of 20-somethings, all gainfully employed or trying hard to become so, struggling to make ends meet, while still trying to embrace life and live what they have left to its fullest. I would have responded far better to a story about adults acting like adults than I did to RENT, a story about adults acting like children--but I don't wanna pay my rent.

So most of this has been a rant about why I hate RENT, but the point is, my ex loved RENT.Had I known then what god-awful tripe RENT is, I could have saved myself a lot of time. Knowing what I know now, I feel wholly justified in judging people who like RENT--and would certainly never date one again.

Kissing a Smoker is like Licking an Ashtray

Colossus (my ex who lives in Arkansas,who in my last post eons ago, I had just left) is a big guy. Really big--6 ft 8.

He is also a good guy. A good enough guy that I was totally prepared to marry him and may well have had circumstances been different. He has an ex-wife and a (truly adorable) young son, so he is pretty much tied to Little Rock. After a while of living there, I realized I would simply never be happy if I too were tied there. So, I left. It was the single hardest thing I've ever done and sometimes I wonder about what might have happened. This was truly the relationship that taught me that, contrary to what the Beatles may claim, love is not all you need.

This is a little story about an incident in which he irritated the hell out of me. It's certainly not a candidate for "why my ex should rot in hell" status, but annoying nonetheless.

I am a pack a day smoker. (Sidenote: this is something RGB's Fred and I bonded over--this and Billy Joel. (Additional sidenote: the first time I typed "bonded," I accidentally wrote "boned." Not a Freudian slip, I promise RGB.)) I know, I know--gross, you're killing yourself, trashy, etc. I've heard them all and I'll quit when I finally decide for myself that I want to. I've tried to quit for other people in the past and now realize that its just too hard to do unless you want to quit for yourself.

Well, Colossus HATED that I smoke. Really, truly despised it. I'm sure he could write his own loser-ex post about my smoking. He would harp on me all the time about my smoking--and, in my defense, I did try very hard several times to quit, but just couldn't do it. He said it was nasty (true), unhealthy (true), and made me smell bad (true). It got to the point that in the last few months of our relationship, he refused to kiss me not matter how many times I brushed my teeth, used mouthwash, and showered. Now, I know I'm a smoker, so I'm mostly immune to the smell and rarely ever smell it on me (though I know its there), but can you really still smell it after all that? This is an honest question. I'm not going to be offended if you say yes. Colossus said that it came through my pores even if I showered, etc. (My God, that's really gross, now that its typed out.)

But the fact remained, I am a smoker. So, Colossus decided to switch to more devious tactics.

I always left my cigarettes in the car and never smoked at home if he was there (and never in the house, obviously), because I knew how much it upset him. After a big fight about my smoking, during which I agreed to try to quit again (I lied and made no attempt to quit, just to hide it better), he began stealing my packs of cigarettes out of my car. Because I was supposed to be trying to quit, I did not want to confront him about it and tell him to stop. So, in response, I started hiding them in different places inside the car. Under the seat, inside the piles of ever-present crap in my car, even in the compartment in the trunk for my car jack. But he always found them. I kept buying more and refusing to say anything about it, even though I knew that he obviously knew that I wasn't quitting. I have a massive stubborn streak (I am also stubborn in the fact that I insist upon thinking that my stubbornness is endearing), so confronting him would entail me acknowledging that I was lying--and I wasn't about to do that.

This went on for about two weeks. I was spending an absurd amount of money on cigarettes, since I rarely got more than about five from a pack. But apparently the way to my heart--or in this case, away from it--is through my checking account. After he found a pack hidden under my spare tire, properly screwed to the floor of my trunk and all, my cheapness overtook my stubbornness and I exploded at him. I was definitely overly confrontational about it--but, hey, I had to minimize the fact that I had been lying and try to shift as much blame as possible. He stopped stealing them, but in retrospect, he totally won. I was forced to admit that I wasn't quitting and hadn't even really tried. Of course, we both already knew that, but he made me say it out loud.

As I said before, Colossus is a good man, so most of my bad stories about him have a decent amount of bad behavior on my part. Sure, he was stealing (and being so insanely thorough in his stealing), but I was lying. Feel free to judge me. I've already come to terms with it.

Date of the Week: Heights and Sites!

This week's date is going to involve some serious advanced planning, but will give you some of the best views of the city. So, start booking!

First up, the Washington Monument. You can obtain tickets for the tour if you get here early in the morning, but you're better off just ordering them online in advance. The tour is free, but the online tickets to have a small service fee. Also, they will come to you in a rather plain-looking envelope, so make sure you don't throw them out by mistake. I would take a tour later in the afternoon, maybe like around 4, that way you can make early dinner reservations at 5:30.

Make sure you arrive a little before your tour time and wait out front for the park ranger running the tour line. Once you're sent inside, you'll wait a few minutes in the marble lobby for the elevator to come back down. The ride up takes 70 seconds, which feels like forever on an elevator, especially in DC where the buildings are all short, but the tour guide will fill the time with all sorts of interesting trivia. Although, if you get the same one I did, you will cringe every time she says the name of the monument (I really hate when people pronounce the name of our first President as if it had an "R" in it).

As the tallest building in Washington, DC, the monument has amazing views. Seriously. There are windows on all four sides of the monument, and each has a handy little picture above with the important buildings labeled, so you can sound like you know what you're talking about in front of your date. Also, you will realize how flat the city actually is. Bring your camera, these are the best views you will ever see (unless you're really rich and can afford a helicopter tour). Anyway, after you check out the great views, you can take the stairs down to the museum-y part of the tour and read all about the history of the Washington Monument before getting in line to ride the elevator back down.

The ride down is the best part of the tour because, you get to see all the innards of the structure. And, trust me, this is way cooler than it sounds.

After the tour, head north on 15th Street for the second-best views of the city. I'm talking about Point of View at the newly-opened W Hotel. You will need to make dinner reservations to get in here, but you can do that on Open Table. Unfortunately, this is not the bar at the Hotel Washington you remember (and long for). No more are the days of freely walking through the lobby to the elevator to sit on the balcony, $12 martini in hand, gazing out at the monuments. OK, well, they still have expensive drinks and great views, but now they have a very closely guarded elevator. While I am not a fan of the snooty revamp of my favorite bar, I have to admit, the views are great.

So, make yourself a reservation and get up there to enjoy the views. Linger around a little after dinner and have another drink. If after dinner, you decide the reincarnation of the Hotel Washington bar is too pretentious for your liking, you can always pop next door to Ebbitt's. In fact, you should do this anyway. Even if you do have drinks at Point of View first.

Date of the Week: Garden Party!

This week's date is full of fancy old-timey things, and includes plenty of time outside. Since it's still warm outside, this is a good weekend to take advantage of the great weather. Start the day off by meeting for lunch at Blue Ridge Restaurant in Glover Park. In addition to great food, Blue Ridge also offers old-timey cocktails and punch bowls. Of course, you and your date probably shouldn't drink an entire punch bowl by yourselves, so save that for when you bring your friends.

After lunch, take a walk down Wisconsin Ave to the beautiful gardens at Dumbarton Oaks (here's how). The garden entrance is located at 31st and R. The gardens don't open until 2pm, so you'll have plenty of time to get there after lunch. Admission is $8 a person, pr $5 if you're a student. There are dozens of different gardens, and they're all amazing. You can easily spend hours here. There are plenty of shaded areas, especially in the informal gardens, making the hot and muggy DC summer less miserable. Plus, it's so big, you won't feel crowded. Another bonus: you will see wildlife in the city other than rats (yucky!).

Once you're finished seeing all the gardens, it's time for a drink. And after spending all afternoon on manicured grounds of a gorgeous mansion, the usual Bud Light just isn't going to cut it.

The entrance to Dumbarton Oaks is just a few blocks away from Cafe Bonaparte. This French restaurant is known throughout DC for it's amazing champagne cocktails. And after a long day of walking, you deserve one. Or more. I won't judge you if you drink more.

Talk Dirty to Me

I am the most awkward and unsexy person ever. If I try to say something dirty, it ends up just sounding funny. Most of the men I've dated are just as awkward, so the dirty talk tends to not happen in my relationships.

Fred was one of the more awkward people I've dated. Except, he never seemed to realize his own awkwardness. So, he tried to say dirty things to me. It was terrible and uncomfortable for all parties involved.

One of his favorite lines was "Ooo baby, baby!" He said it exactly like Salt-N-Pepa do in "Push It." Seriously. He even squeaked a little at the end of it. And this wasn't a one time thing. He did it all the time while we were dating. Each time, I gave him a weird look. But, he seemed completely oblivious. I'm not really even sure what he meant by this. Maybe he was complimenting me. Maybe he was trying to arouse me. Perhaps, he was just singing his favorite 90's song. I really don't know.

The thing is, whenever he looked at me and said "Ooo baby, baby!" I started imagining the rest of the song in my head (do do do do do dododododo). For some reason, thinking of this song then makes me think of the song from Revenge of the Nerds. So, instead of thinking about dirty sexy things, I'd find myself thinking "Clap your hands everybody..."

And this was about as arousing as a fat, sweaty man in a banana hammock.

Date of the Week: Putt-Putt Picnic!

This week, take advantage of the DC summer by going to play putt-putt and enjoy a picnic. DC is limited in its putt-putt options. I mean, sure, there's the H Street Country Club, but playing in a dark bar really doesn't take advantage of the summer, now does it? You should still check this place out sometime though. Just not this weekend, ok? You're going on an outdoor date. You're going to Hains Point. Sure, it's not the fanciest course around, but it has its charm.

Start your day off by either packing yourself and your date a picnic, or going to the closest Chipotle and getting a couple of burritos to go. Remember to pack bottled drinks if you opted for Chipotle. You can't really put a fountain soda in your backpack. Also pack a picnic blanket, or a couple of towels. Now that you're all packed-up, you can either get in your car, or get ready for a good, long walk. I prefer walking. For you drivers out there, you're in luck -- there are a TON of free parking spaces at the East Potomac Golf Course. Also, they have real golf, if you're ever looking for somewhere to play.

Take the metro to the Smithsonian station, the head to Hains Point. Here's how. The mini golf course usually isn't very crowded -- even on weekends. Games are $6 per person. The course is well-shaded, making it a relaxing place for a fun afternoon. The course is a little old, meaning there are strange bumps that might impact your game. If you're serious about your game, that is. When I go, I usually end up goofing off by trying to knock my opponent's ball out of the way.

After putt-putt, head down to the water to enjoy the lunch you packed. I prefer the side that looks over the Potomac to Virginia (as opposed to the side that looks on to DC). It tends to be quieter. Plus, you can see planes take-off from Reagan National, and the DC Duck tour boat goes by every so often. And that's pretty awesome.

If you walked, you can stop and check out the monuments on your back home. If you drove, then you can stop and enjoy the traffic around the monuments on your way home.

Date of the Week: Hiking and Chicken!

I've been getting antsy from being in the city too long, so this week, let's head 'em up, move 'em out! If you're one of the lucky Washingtonians who actually has a car, you're in luck. There are a lot of great destinations for a day trip from which you can pick. This week, I am going to suggest hiking and chicken.

Get up nice and early, pack some trail mix and plenty of water and drive out to Skyline Drive in Virginia. There is a $15 fee per car to get in, but if you think you might come back, I would suggest springing for the annual pass ($30). If you really like parks, there is an $80 annual pass that will get you in to all National Parks. There are several great trails (not to mention, amazing views) along the way. I would suggest Little Devil Stairs as a good hiking trail. It's a little intense. And a little wet. But, you can handle it. SCT's dachshund can handle it. No, really, he loves to hike! One thing to be wary of are the ticks. They will get you. And if you have thick hair like I do, they will love your head. Make sure you wear a hat and cover yourself with bugspray. Also, you will get a little dirty, so if you drive a nice car, or one you want to keep clean, bring a towel for the car ride, and a plastic bag to put your dirty shoes. Also, if your phone is like mine, you will get spotty coverage in this area. I just leave mine turned off when I go out here.

After returning from your hike, continue driving down Skyline Drive. Take it all the way to Charlottesville and reward yourself with a Caniac meal from my favorite fastfood restaurant, Raising Cane's. Sadly, this is the closest Canes to DC. I know you non-Louisiana people are probably thinking "why the hell would I go all the way to Charlottesville for chicken fingers?" Well, just trust me on this one. Once you go, you'll get it. And you will be planning many a trip back to get your fix.

Date of the Week: The Shame

My boyfriend loves Harry Potter. I know I'm going to offend some people by saying this, but I think it's really lame for a man in his 30's to get into children's books and movies. However, being the awesome girlfriend that I am, I will go with him to the theatre to see this crappy movie. I will need a lot of booze to tolerate this.

So, I will start the night out with dinner at the CommonWealth Gastropub in Columbia Heights. It fits the whole British theme. Also, they have beer. Lots of beer. And the hearty food necessary to eat in order to consume lots of beer. I would set aside more time that usual to eat to account for all the boozing you'll want to do.

Anyway, the restaurant is next to the Columbia Heights metro, so it's just a short ride on the green or yellow line to the Regal Gallery Place movie theatre. Chinatown tends to get insanely crowded, so I would suggest purchasing tickets ahead of time. Also, even with your tickets purchased early, you'll still want to get to the theatre early enough to get decent seats. Seriously. I went to see "The Hangover" a few weeks ago and ended up getting stuck in the back row that has about 1/3 the leg space. My knees were pressed against the seat in front of me the whole time. And the little brat in that seat felt the need to keep rocking her seat back, jamming my knees. The little brat next to her (in front of my boyfriend) had the audacity to turn around and yell at him to not kick her seat, despite the fact the only thing moving was her seat as she rocked it. I hope she fell in a hole. She was a brat. But, I digress.

After sitting through the movie, you'll want to get up and stretch your legs, so take a walk down to Elephant & Castle (or metro if you're feeling lazy) to resume boozing while keeping with the British theme.

Who's gonna drive you home?

O/G is five weeks older than me. Most of the time we were dating, it was barely noticeable, but there were a few age-restricted activities that always seemed to fall in those five weeks that made life complicated. One of such was renting a car.

As everyone knows, if you rent a car before you're 25, you are tagged with all sorts of extra fees. It's grossly unfair because I was no bit a better driver on my 25th birthday than I was the day before, but it's based on accident data and I understand a business has to make a decision about risk so whatever.

O/G's 25th birthday was on a week day in early April. I planned to fly to Georgia the following weekend to celebrate. The previous time I had visited, I had flown to Jacksonville, rented a car (taking the hit on extra fees), and driven 90 minutes up I-95 to his house (it had been cheaper to do this than fly directly to Savannah and I was visiting for a long weekend so the drive wasn't a big deal). O/G really liked that I had a rental car because it meant he didn't have to put miles on his car and we could go out to the bars and cab home and then retrieve the other car the next morning. He liked it so much that he requested I do it again for his birthday. And by requested, I mean demanded in his whiny-baby voice.

The smart thing to do would have been for him to rent the car in his name, as by the time I arrived in Savannah on Friday afternoon, he would have already been 25 and thus wouldn't have to pay the extra fees. I suggested this as I was planning my travel but he didn't want to do this. His reasoning? It was his birthday so he didn't want to pay AND it was my turn to visit him and therefore my turn to pay for the travel costs.

I offered to write him a check for the amount of the car rental (since the fee itself usually has to be charged to a credit card in the driver's name), but he didn't like that idea because he didn't feel comfortable letting me drive a car that was rented in his name. Plus, in his words "the travel thing is your problem this time babe". Sort of like how I made it his probably to get him to and from the airport when he came to visit DC or how I left him to deal with his problem when his flight home got canceled during a snow storm. But that's probably why our relationship soured: I never made anything his problem and therefore he did not know how to solve his own problems.

In the end, I rented a car and paid the extra fees and spent the weekend driving him around on his errands because he didn't want to put miles on his car. After all, it was his birthday and I was a complete pushover back then.

A kiss on the hand may be quite continental

A few weeks ago, my sister stumbled upon a website called Ex-Boyfriend Jewelry where girls (and I suppose guys) can sell the jewelry their exes gave them. I had a complete "why didn't I think of that?" moment.

Over my years of dating, I have accumulated many pieces of jewelry and until I dated O/G, I had only returned one piece, a fraternity lavaliere, because I couldn't really wear the letters of someone I wasn't dating. Until I dated O/G, I never had an ex ask for his jewelry back. This includes several pieces of nice jewelry (Tiffany, David Yurman), several pieces of fine jewelry (diamond earrings, pearls, nice watches) and a decently-sized engagement ring, in addition to the other, more sentimental pieces. Of course, like many things, O/G was different about jewelry.

When O/G broke up, he sent me an itemized list of the jewelry he wanted back. I'm sorry, I meant he called my mother with an itemized list of the jewelry he wanted back because I wouldn't take his calls. We had been dating on and off for five years so one would imagine this list would be fairly extensive and it probably would have been, had he bought me jewelry that I liked from the beginning of our relationship. See, O/G spent the first three-quarters of our relationship buying me jewelry that he thought I should like, rather than the pieces I actually did like. And it wasn't that he didn't know what I would like: he'd take me shopping, I would pick out pieces that I liked, he would pick out things he'd like, I would reject his choices and three days later he would present me with one of the rejected pieces.

It was a real struggle to work rose gold heart necklaces with matching earrings into my wardrobe, but he would whine and complain if I arrived at his place not wearing something he gave me.

Finally, after a particularly big fight, he randomly started buying me jewelry I would actually wear. And I did wear these pieces regularly.

Those were the pieces that appeared on the itemized list. I have no idea what he did with a David Yurman bracelet and necklace and a pair of John Hardy earrings that he wouldn't do with the rose gold heart set and Tin Cup-style pearl illusion necklace. All the jewelry he gave me cost about the same, so if he just wanted to pawn the stuff, he should have asked for all of it back. All of it was long past its return date so it's not like he could bring it back to the jeweler.

I'm starting to think he saved it for his next girlfriend, which is creepy. And, judging from her Facebook picture, she's more the down-home rose gold heart set type.

Date of the Week: Moon Landing!

For the month of July, the National Air and Space Museum will be celebrating the 40th anniversary of Apollo 11. NASM is one of my favorite museums in Washington, and this is the perfect chance to go check it out. The museum is open until 7:30 most days in the summer, with a few exceptions. So, why not plan to go a little later in the afternoon. Maybe around 4 or 5. Catch a show in the planetarium, then check out all the Apollo 11 artifacts, including the command module, Columbia, and some lunar rocks.

After the museum, head up 7th street to Rocket Bar in Chinatown. This is the point where I should remind you to wear shoes you can walk a few blocks in. I am not going to say "comfortable walking shoes" because, that brings to mind visions of ugly tourist sandals. Cute shoes can be comfortable. Please find a pair that are. And wear those.

Anyway, back to Rocket Bar. Grab a few drinks and challenge your date to a game of skee ball (my favorite!) or shuffle board. If you're into more serious bar games, they also have pool tables and dart boards. But, really, where's the excitement in playing generic bar games? Save it for your buddies.

After a few drinks, you can keep with the space theme and take a cab up to Georgetown for dinner at Paper Moon. If you're going on a Friday or Saturday, you might want to make reservations beforehand. There is a lot of foot traffic in Georgetown on the weekends and restaurants tend to fill up pretty fast.

This is the Reason You Couldn't Get a Date

Back in high school, I was asked out on my very first "real" date by a man we'll call Brutus. This was early enough in high school that neither one of us could drive, so we had to rely on parental transportation. (Oh the shame...)

Brutus was a soccer jock, kinda pasty pale skin, and red hair to match. My boyfriend is a redhead now, but wasn't this pale. Brutus also had oddly shaped freckles that seemed to be spattered across his face and body with no particular rhyme, reason, or symmetry that I could see.

Nevertheless, I was excited for my first date. My parents were too, which is always embarrassing... but at least mine didn't show up with a camera like his did. No, it wasn't prom, homecoming, or any other dress-up event that would have actually warranted and been justified in having a picture to commemorate its occurrence. I had no idea where we were headed on this date of ours, but I was ready to get going after the tenth photo.

Clearly, the date was starting off right. Brutus' parents drove us to the local bowling alley, setting up shop just two lanes down the way - as if that was far enough to give us space without actually bowling with us. It might have actually fooled us, except his Dad would cheer everytime Brutus hit more than three or four pins. On the bright side, at least they didn't offer to put us on the bumper lane.

After we finished our two games, his parents drove us back to his place for a movie. Once there, they actually left us pretty much alone... and I look back on it and realize how good I had it when they were around.

It was more than just a lack of chemistry that kept me from ever seeing Brutus again. It really came down to self-preservation. Brutus was a dirty minded boy. The sorts of things he was asking me to do (or saying we could do down the road) are things even today as a grown professional woman I would never consider. I was shocked! I wasn't completely sheltered growing up, but I sure as hell wasn't prepared for some of his suggestions of what we should spend some time doing.

1. If I were to ever have had sex with him, leaving pets in the room was never something I would consciously plan for. He actually proposed that we might be more "excited" if "someone... even an animal..." was watching.
2. I don't care how much you like fixing cars or the smell of vehicular residue, but pouring things on my body that you would find in a car is not even remotely something to suggest if you expect an affirmative response.
3. I don't like the idea of being tied up or restricted - and bungee cords is the absolute weirdest fetish I have heard to accomplish this task to this very day.

You may be wondering how in the world this conversation came up. I was wondering the same thing! I asked him what movie we were going to watch and he suggested we "talk" a bit first. At first I was pleased, but when he introduced the subject.. well I was no longer happy with the situation.

Needless to say, I was disgusted and disturbed. I made a solemn promise to myself to never go on another date with Brutus.

When Brutus first called to ask me out again, I simply said I was busy. In the next couple calls, I wasn't feeling well. After that, it became quite the production to come up with excuses on why I couldn't go out with him anymore. He called - every other day - for three months. I think back on it and I'm pretty sure it was because no girl would ever go out with him again. That would explain his parents taking so many pictures - I guess they were as shocked as I am now that he ever got a girl to go out with him.'

Of COURSE I would never go out with him again! I mean, really?

At some point, Brutus did figure out that I wasn't ever going to be "available" for him again. He took the "Breakup" badly and he hated me for the rest of high school. He badmouthed me and even tried to convince guys who I later dated that they "could do better" than me. Well, if by doing better, he meant someone who would play along with his sick little fetish games - in HIGH SCHOOL - then yes, there were far better women than me out there. They were called tramps.

Skid Row Bums

Fred had a relative whom his family ridiculed for a vareity of reasons. One of the most ridiculous was the fact that, despite being well past potty-training age (able-bodied and of normal intelligence), she still would not wipe her own rear.

Fred, on the other hand, was in his mid-twenties and did wipe his own rear, however the responsibility proved to be too much for him. Despite years of practice, he still had not mastered the art of properly cleaning himself. I don't mean to single out Fred. Shrek was just as bad about this. This is more of a general rant.

Dating Shrek was terrible because every single pair of boxers he owned had...evidence of wear. And Fred was so bad that every single surface in his apartment that he had ever sat on smelled like what comes out of one's bottom. It was absolutely foul. I couldn't sit on his sofa without smelling poo.

It just completely blows my mind that the men I used to date would wear roomy boxers and still manage to get their butt juice on them, while I wear thongs -- underwear designed to go up my ass -- and they still are stain-free.

Both of these men tried to defend their wiping skills, claiming that men just have leaky butts. Um, no, not all men do. In fact, in my experience I have found that most do not.

Just to make sure I am not dating the exceptions, I asked some girlfriends about their experience with men having this problem. Then, I asked some men if they personally had this problem. My conclusion is that this is not a normal condition. If your butt is leaking, you really need to go to the doctor and have that problem addressed. Your underwear should not be covered in stains. Your furniture should not smell.

Seriously, boys, you are disgusting. Go to a doctor.

Date of the Week: Kayaking!

My first job was working at a boat rental center, so I have a thing for small watercraft. If paddle boats in the tidal basin are a little too dorky for your liking, you can always try kayaking in the Potomac. For this, I would recommend wearing something casual. Shorts and a t-shirt. You'll get a little wet from paddling, and we all know how clean the Potomac is, so don't wear white.

For $10 an hour, you and your date can get a double kayak from the Thompson Boat Center. If they're out of boats, you can try Jack's, which is up the river a little more. They're a little bit more expensive though.

Some days, there is more of a current than others, but regardless, I would suggest rowing upstream first. Once you get past the key bridge, there is a lot to see. It is surprisingly calm for being just a few hundred yards away from the hustle and bustle of Georgetown. The Three Sisters Rock formation marks the farthest point navigable by larger boats, so after you get past there, you can relax and just drift for a bit. I've seen a lot of people kayak up here then bird-watch. If that's your thing, go for it. Otherwise, just sit back and enjoy the scenery.

Some people BYOB on their kayaks and crack one open at this point. I am going to be a nerd here and say don't do that. You should not operate any watercraft, motorized or not, under the influence. But, definitely bring some water, it gets a little hot on the water sometimes.

The good thing about rowing against the current to start off with is that you can coast back downriver to the boat center. Of course, be mindful of the other boats in the water, you may want to stay closer to the shore so you're out of the way of motorboat operators who may have had a few too many.

After returning your kayak, continue your day of river fun by grabbing an outside table overlooking the Potomac at Nick's for lunch and a few drinks. The Georgetown Waterfront is a great place for people-watching and is a very chill environment, especially during the day. It will be a nice break after all that rowing.

Nitwit Picnic

We've all been picky eaters at some point in our lives. My sister doesn't eat anything that is white. My fiance doesn't eat seafood (or vegetables unless I disguise them). I don't eat Chinese or Thai food. We all have our quirks, but if we were seated in an average, American restaurant we could piece together a complete meal, perhaps with some minor modifications (hold the mayo, etc).

Officer/Gentleman took picky eating to an extreme. He could not put together a complete meal at one restaurant, in part due to a sensitive stomach (everything made him sick but that is its own separate, disgusting post), but primarily due to obsessive eating habits. Dining with him was akin to a scavenger hunt: we needed a fruit, a vegetable, a source of protein and some creatine.

It would start on a Saturday morning after he got out of bed (around 11 AM). He would decide instead of patronizing the nearby Waffle House (it made him sick), or the coffee shop (it wasn't healthy), we would drive 20 minutes to the nearest Smoothie King for a delightful morning smoothie (with added supplements).

Now, I have been known to enjoy the occasional smoothie but I need two things for my first meal of the day: coffee and substantial solid food. Otherwise, I am weak, caffeine-deprived and cranky. This becomes even more important after a night of late-night drinking (O/G's favorite activity), because you can add "hungover" to the list of less-than-pleasant traits I possessed. You'd think after dating me for four years, he would have figured this out, but that would mean paying attention to someone besides himself.

So after we got a smoothie, we would head next door to Panera Bread for a cup of chicken noodle soup. But that's all we could get because everything else made him sick. If I dared to order anything else, he would tell me how unhealthy it was (because drinking an 800-calorie meal-replacement smoothie with god knows what kind of muscle-building powder in it as your first course is downright nutritious). I could, however, order a cup of coffee, provided I wanted to listen to him complain about how expensive it was.

Then, it was time for protein, and his favorite form of protein was a chicken sandwich from Zaxby's (on the other side of town). So away we'd go to Zaxby's for round three, where we would eat chicken sandwiches (but no fries because they made him sick).

It was like a cross between a progressive dinner party and the Bataan Death March.

From time to time, we go out to dinner at a restaurant (just one restaurant). He would usually concede, and even let me pick the place, but then once there, he would do weird things like order potato skins with a side of smashed cauliflower. This would confuse the waitress to no end as she pondered which of those selections was to be served alongside my entree.

For someone with stomach issues, he sure did eat weird things. Perhaps because by "stomach", he meant "control".

Psychological Case Study: Fred

In the tradition of making psychological judgements about my exes based on their care for pets, I bring you Fred.

Fred had a pet budgie in college. His name was Buddy. Then a hurricane came. No, not that one. So, Fred decided that he would take Buddy with him while he evacuated. I guess his deadbeat roommates didn't want the hassle of carrying the bird around.

Before we left, I explained to Fred that it was a risky idea since birds are very sensitive to climate and pressure changes. I noted that my friend growing up had had a budgie and that they had to keep it away from the front door, as drafts could eventually kill the bird. I even suggested he find someone else to take the bird, knowing that a car trip was risky, especially with the way Fred smokes in his car and opens the windows most of the time he is driving.

When we loaded Buddy into the car, I buckled his cage in, removed any toys that could fly around and possible hit him, and covered the cage with a sheet to protect him from drafts. Fred started to open the windows, and I stopped him, explaining (AGAIN) that the draft is not good for the bird.

Five minutes into the trip, Fred rolled down the window and started smoking, blowing the air from the window and the smoke toward Buddy's cage. I told him not to do that. I explained that he would need to limit his smoking breaks to a couple times a day as to not make his budgie sick. Of course he did not listen, and spent the entire trip chain smoking, letting the wind and smoke fly into Buddy's cage.

I don't want to go into details, but little Buddy did die on that trip. Fred's selfishness caused him to irreparably harm his pet.

It is unfair to accept the responsibility to care for something when you have no intention of actually doing so. At first, this event seems to illustrate Fred being absentminded. But, given that I had told him several times not to open the window, it really just shows his utter selfishness and insistence on putting his own wants over the needs of others. Once again, Fred's treatment of his pet should have been a clear sign of how he would eventually act toward me.

Date of the Week: The Zoo!

When I was in college, my animal behavior courses meant spending long hours doing research at the zoo. As a result, I am a total nerd about zoos and the best way to win me over is to take me on a date to one. Of course, you don't have to be a nerd to enjoy the zoo -- and it's a great place to take a date for a casual, cheap and fun day.

The National Zoo is on a steep hill, so you will certainly get a work-out looking at all the animals. So, I'd recommend starting off your day with a hearty breakfast from Open City, which is next to the Woodley Park Metro Station. Unless you get there super-early, you'll probably have to wait a little bit for a table. This will give you a chance to talk with your date and find out all about his background. I love the breakfast at Open City. My favorite menu item is the Chai Tea Waffle, and my boyfriend loves the omelets. The environment here is ultra-casual -- you can wear just about anything. The restaurant gets pretty crowded, but the tables are spaced so you won't feel like you have people sitting on top of you.

After breakfast, it's just a short walk up the hill to the National Zoo. The thing I love most about the National Zoo is that, like other Smithsonian Museums in Washington, it is free. Make sure you check out the outdoor exhibits at the Bird House. These tend to be less crowded than a lot of the other exhibits. And the beautiful scenery makes for a great place to steal a kiss. The good thing about a zoo date is that there is plenty of time to talk to your date, and the animals make great conversation starters. Alternatively, if you're not in the mood to chat, the animals are a good distraction, so silence will no e awkward. Basically, whatever your conversation style, you will be comfortable at the zoo.

All the exhibits at the zoo are worth checking out. You may have to wade through crowds for more popular ones (the pandas). You'll definitely want to take a break from the heat by slipping into some of the indoor exhibits, like the Small Mammal House and the Reptile Discovery Center. After some walking, grab an ice cream from the concession stand, or a vending machine and sit in the shade by the sea lions.

A day at the zoo is a unique and fun date that is a good change of pace from the usual dinner and drinks outing. It's cheap enough for an intern without feeling like a budget date.

Check Him Out : Old Ebbitt Grill

First of all, if anyone out there has the Lisa Frank "Check Him Out" picture, let me know. I can't seem to find it anywhere on the Internet, which is truly a shame.

Anyway, on to business. Old Ebbitt Grill is across the street from the White House and the Treasury. I absolutely love the back bar at Ebbitt's. This is the type of bar you wouldn't be ashamed to take your parents to. Details such as hooks under the bar for coats and a heavy lip on the edge of the bar to prevent drinks from being knocked-off really give this place a clean, welcoming feel. Turn-of-the-century details adorn this restaurant, including some of the most interesting knick-knacks you've ever seen. This is the type of place you'd imagine your great-grandparents going for a drink. Everything about it screams "classic." So, naturally, the type of men you can expect to meet here are, well, classic.

Ebbitts attracts a crowd of lawyer and lobbyist types, mainly in their 30's. The best time to meet men is at happy hour during the week. If you're an independent woman who needs time for her own career and social obligations, this is the place to meet your man. The career-focused men here work long hours, meaning if you snag one, you'll have to be willing to accept only seeing him a couple of times a week. If you're the type of woman who wants her boyfriend to be constantly present, look somewhere else. The men here are the smart, sophisticated, politically-savvy types you'd expect to find in DC. Another perk to meeting men here: the male-to-female ratio is stacked in your favor, ladies. Plus, these guys don't go out much, so if you're a cute girl in her 20's (even if you're only DC cute), you're going to get a lot of attention at Ebbitt's happy hour.



To meet a man at Ebbitt's, come after work later in the week. Wear your cutest work clothes (something that is chic, but still professional), bring a couple of girlfriends, and a lot of business cards. If you get there a little early, you can secure seats at the bar and chat it up with guys as they come by to order drinks.

New Features

In the interest of putting a more positive spin on dating, we've decided to add two new features to LoserEx.

First, there will be Date of the Week which I will try to post each Wednesday (that way you guys have time to find your date for the weekend). In this feature, I will make a suggestion for an inexpensive, fun date in Washington, DC. I'm going to try to avoid things like dinner and drinks, since I feel like we all go on way to many of those dates.

The next feature will be Check Him Out. This will be a less regular feature -- maybe once every three weeks or so. Check Him Out will review local places (mainly bars) in terms of meeting men. I will evaluate what type of man frequents various places and what type of woman should go to these places to meet men. On a related note, if you have the Lisa Frank "Check Him Out" picture (for which this feature was named), let me know. This picture is the best thing ever and would make a nice addition to this feature.

And, yes, there are still many more stories to come about the losers I've dated.

Psychological Case Study: Shrek

It is said that serial killers usually have a history of abusing animals. I am not accusing any of my exes of being serial killers, but I strongly believe the way one treats animals is a reflection of what kind of person he or she is.

In that vein, I strongly believe that the psychological problems of my exes can be expressed in anecdotes about their treatment of animals. This will be the first case study in a series about my exes.

As a sorority initiation gift, my big sis gave me a beta fish. It was super-awesome. I named it Captain Ron and loved it dearly. When the end of the semester came, I asked Shrek if I could take a fish on a plane or if I should ask someone who lives locally to board my beloved pet for the summer. His response: "You could put some bleach in the water and kill it."

Clearly, I had no desire to kill my pet. The question was how to make it live through the summer. For the record, I left it with a classmate who lived in town. My fish was alive and well when I returned from summer break. She even generously upgraded his bowl to a self-filtering tank.

On a similar note, Shrek had a dog back home. He kept it outside, year round. Even though the place he lived was known for being particularly cold. One day, he got off the phone with his mom and without emotion declared "I no longer have a dog." His parents had put the dog down. Not because it was terminally ill, or fatally wounded. They put it down because they didn't feel like having a dog anymore.

In both the dog and the fish case, he proved that he was comfortable killing things that were no longer convenient to have around. This inability to feel compassion for living things or respect for life should have been a clear indicator of what was to come in our relationship. I suppose I should be happy I got out before his aggression resulted in me being like to dog and the fish.