Dating: A Chess Game

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Chess: A never ending game 

full of different types of players.

Dating: A never ending game full 

of different types of players.

Wow. That’s uncanny.

For those of you unfamiliar with chess we will explain it in layman’s terms.

Piece: Pawn (there’s about 8 of them)

Moves: One space forward.

These little guys are the One Date Wonders. 

Easily disposable.

Piece: Knight

Moves: In a crazy “L” shape.

Be careful. These are not Knights in Shining Armor.

 (Now start singing the song that never ends)

“These are the boyfriends that never end. 

     You just go on and on as friends”

You think you would know their game plan by now but they never cease to surprise you with random texts, an occasional icecream date or hints of a DTR.

Piece: Bishop

Moves: Only diagonal.

Bless their hearts. These are the “Tuesday Tennis” boys. They call you every Tuesday for tennis but got stuck in this rut of creativity and can never seem to promote you to “Saturday Night Girl”.

Piece: Rook

Moves: Straight forward.

Don’t confuse these ones with Rookies. Rooks know what they want. Just like the chess piece they are very forward. And fast. They move from step A to Z in a matter of weeks. Sounds appealing right? But you can’t help feeling like you’re a piece in their chess game.

Piece: Queen

Moves: Any direction.

This is you. You are the most powerful piece in this game. You can knock out any other piece on the board any time you’d like. But don’t get so “queen bee” happy that you end up booting every piece off the board. Keep your options open.  

Piece: King

Moves: One space in any direction.

The pursuit of the King is the reason for this blog.

Once you get the King, game over. You graduate from the SpinsterHOOD.

May the odds ever be in your favor,

Gertrude and Charlotte

Boy Garage Sale

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Big news: Stella the vintage bike sold!

A foxy Spinster bought her and I hope their first few weeks together have been magical.

However, after selling Stella I realized I went about selling her all the wrong way.

I was reading an article in the newspaper about how a girl sold her bike on Craigslist and an eligible young bachelor came to check it out. Turns out he was checking out a lot more than the bike because the two got married.

WHAT THE HECK?!

Here I had an excellent chance of finding a husband and I totally blew it. But I’m not sure I would want to date a guy who wanted to buy my red cruiser bike.

This whole sell-your-stuff-to-get-married thing has got me thinking though.

I need to start holding male focused garage sales.

I think I’ll start by selling:


P90X dvds...

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How to: Duct Tape Origami booklets....

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A portable ping pong set...
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Fork/knife chopsticks...

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Penny cufflinks with personalized year...

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This freaky bird made out of power tools...

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A tie made out of wood...

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A geek clock (this will reel in the engineers baby!)

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A skateboard stool...

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A face mug...

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Recycled record bookends...

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Only one problem. I don’t own a single manly thing. Which means I will have to buy them. And then re-sell them.

This is starting to seem like a lot of work. Maybe I’ll just try flat ironing my hair instead.

Stay classy,

Charlotte

p.s. If you really do want to buy these things just click the (*) next to every pic and it will take you to the mother ship of weird gifts. :)

Text Message Roulette

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Have you ever gone back and looked 

at text messages you've sent? 

Reading them out of context can be quite amusing. 

Some of the last texts we’ve sent:

“I was SO close to leaving a Zac Efron cut out 

in your room but then I realized you would never give it back.”

         “Got my Ingrid Michaelson tickets.

    I’m officially following you to the concert.”

“Permission to post about squid boy?”

“Shut. Up.”

“The air I breathe in a room absent of you 

is unhealthy.”

                “Well I actually just ate dinner 

                  but I’d go again! 

                 Where do you want to go?”

“Your parents were hippies and mine weren’t! 

  That is so weird!”

“Do you think if I get ready for the party

The Irishman will ask me out again?”

                 “Now that I’ve conquered lacrosse

              my next sport to master will be cricket.”

And now the crème of the crop:

A boy texted Gertie and said:

"What are you doing tonight? 

Got any hot plans?”

Gertie responded:

 “I am sitting in a Moroccan restaurant 

with six cute girls,

 sitting on pillows, with belly dancers 

wandering around the restaurant...

What are you doing?” 

 How many times can you text that in your life?

And then there are always the constant ones 

in your inbox like,

§  “I need your address for my reception!!!!”

§  Or like clock work, every Friday and Saturday night we will get a text from each other saying:

“What are the big plans Gert/Char? You don’t have a date do you?”

The answer to that is usually “no” and so we end up reading old text messages…

 XooXXoxooxXXooxxOx,

Charlotte and Gertrude

Mexican Date of 1

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“Yeah could I get a bean and cheese burrito please?”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah and a carna asada burrito”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah and a medium rootbeer.”

“Anything else?”

“No that’s it.”

I paused as I “pulled forward” to the next window at my second fav Mexican drive thru. Not only was it 10:32 at night, I was also ordering all this food for myself and started to feel slightly apprehensive as to what Hector would think when he saw, not a herd of starving high school boys in the car, but a lone Spinster.

I like ordering for 2. Even if I’m only 1.

It’s like you’re on a date by yourself.

You get to try multiple things on the menu…

…just like if you were on a date.

You’re out late at night feeling like you’re doing something…

…just like if you were on a date.

…and you don’t have to worry about getting all dolled up! My power bun was stacked so high on my head it was touching the roof of my car.

Therefore, ladies, next time you are feel’in down on Friday night, go take yourself somewhere nice...

                            …like a Mexican drive thru.

 If the rush of going on a date of 1 doesn’t perk you up, the angst of making eye contact with the drive thru worker as he hands over multiple bags of food to you will most definitely get your heart pump’in.

Forgetting the “don’t eat after 6 rule”,

Char