Pennermag.com

He doesn’t write, he doesn’t call. I wonder if our first meeting was good. Did I have spinach between my teeth?

Did I wear the right clothes? Did I dominate the conversation too much. I wanted him to get to know me, but did I ask enough questions about him and his job?

I sit by the phone waiting for it to ring. I check the dial tone, everything’s good there. I check my e-mail . . . nothing.

I’ve been trying to get friends to set me up. I’ve met some nice guys, but nothing’s clicked.

Maybe, in the immortal words of the writers of ‘Sex in the City.’ he’s just not that into me.

And I thought dating was bad . . . but, job hunting is worse.

For the life of me, I feel like a constant pursuer. I call, I e-mail, I write letters!, and I visit. I dress up, act nice, give compliments. Dating, was never a problem, men respond to the above. Potential bosses, however, I can’t get a rise out of them.

And I’m even getting better at taking rejection. Many of my single friends have turned to on-line dating. They have match.com, I have monster.com. Dating, is easier, I think. There seem to be an infinite number of eligible people to meet. Jobs, however, are a lot scarcer. If you and another person decide to date, you can have a one on one relationship. Interviewing is more competitive — duking it out against invisible rivals — and in a capalist country — those rivals can number in the hundreds.

Single friends, take heart, dating is a lot easier.

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Sometimes I think people must believe there are garbage fairies.

A neighbor has an appliance box on the tree lawn — which after a little sprinkler action — leaves wet cardboard and styrofoam everywhere — for days.

Today, on my dog walk, I passed what must be the entire contents of someone’s house, and on another tree-lawn were shutters older than I am.

Now, I know the City of Los Angeles will pick up your garbage if you request it. If you request it. That’s the key. People keep putting their junk out there as if Tinkerbell like creatures will lift it to a landfill. There are no garbage fairies — garbage does not magically disappear from one’s tree lawn.

You know how it is in L.A. I see the same mattress on Washington Boulevard every day — the one with the moon and stars. It’s been there for three weeks. Then on La Brea, there’s an endless flux of used mattresses, horrid looking couches, and tons of those 50’s furniture-likeTVs.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out what would possess people to empty the contents of their houses on to the street. Actually, I can’t figure out which is worse, people putting their junk out for everyone to see, or the fact that they live with that junk. Or even worse, that the ‘Sanford & Son’ type trucks pick up this stuff — especially mattresses — for goodness knows what purpose.

Some things are better left unseen.

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