Monday, October 20, 2008

Tall Tales

Tall Guy and I went out again on Saturday night.

I wasn't all that surprised that he wanted to go out with me again, I mean, I'm pretty amazing. And our makeout sesh was pretty intense. But ultimately, I knew that there were still issues at hand and that I didn't have much of an argument..I mean, unless I go out and buy some stilts, there's still a foot and a half difference in our heights.

Which, godammit, is so not a big deal to me!

I made him come to Brooklyn because I had been out pumpkin picking all day upstate and I was fact, I could have just as easily stayed home, but he seemed adamant that he really wanted to hang out again and who am I to say no?

So, I watched him down a shitload of beer. Cuz the guy can drink. I mean, he's really tall. 5 beers in and I'm still sipping my second vodka tonic, and I'm feeling myself getting wasted by the second, while he's staying relatively sober. And the subject of the height thing comes up AGAIN. I wouldn't let him get away with it as an excuse. I was like, "Tell me you don't like me (which you can't) tell me you're not attracted to me (which you are) but for the love of God do NOT tell me I am too short." It doesn't make any sense. To me. Then again, I'm not the one walking around with a 79 inch frame.

I finally decided that he just has issues, period, and told him as much. He didn't disagree with me. So I think we decided to just be friends. Except that he came home with me. And stayed the night. And stayed the morning. And we didn't act like friends, at least not the friends that I generally keep around (ok there's a few of you out there. shut up).

Especially since he spent a lot of time telling me how "different" I he has never met anyone like give the midget a chance, dude!

So I dunno. I hadn't heard from him all week, so I sent him a little email today...I don't even know what the purpose was...I guess to remind him I'm alive? I'm kind of at the point where I don't want to remind someone I'm alive anymore. I want to be chased. Just a little. No more chasing for me.

I've got two different thoughts going through my head. One is that I need to just walk away from this, if he is able to get past his shit, he'll let me know. But then my other thought is the one that is going to end up being the death of goes something like this: "he needs to know how great you are. you need to remind him of how great you are, often, so that he will know that he will be missing out on something if he lets you go."

Yea, forcing someone to like you is one of my strong points, but in the end, never fruitful, and always painful.

He did call. And said something about having to go away over the weekend. So I said "Have fun" and he said "but. I'll talk to you before that."


it's already Weds.

Whatever. I'm not holding my breath. I'm trying NOT to hold my breath.

Meanwhile...there's a perfectly nice guy who keeps calling. And I'm just not calling back. I can't call back...I don't have it in me. He might be the love of my life for all I know and I just don't care right now.

And Remax2 and I are supposed to go biking this weekend. He just called to confirm. Fucking Remax2. I would have killed to have that fuckwad pick up the phone and call me a month ago.

Life. Weird, shitty, freaky life.

Monday, October 13, 2008

You've Got Mail

As you may recall, a few months back my douchebag ex dumped one of our cats back in my lap. I couldn't have been happier to have Bong back, but having to have Douchebag back in my life, even for a mere 10 minutes, was traumatizing at best.

Douchebag texted me a couple weeks ago saying that he could come by one Saturday and bring over a box of record albums that he still had of mine, and pick up a box of stuff that snuck its way into my storage unit all those years ago.

I wasn't thrilled at the prospect of seeing him, yet again, but the thought of having all of my childhood records back - The Monkees, Captain and Tanille, The Osmonds and Shaun Cassidy, to name a few-was thrilling enough that I figured I could endure another 10 minutes with him.

I'm going to spare you all the agony of hearing about our second reunion, because really, how much hatred can one girl spew on her blog? I'm a lover, not a fighter...however, what I'm here to tell you is about what I found in that box of record albums.

It sat on the floor of my bedroom for a week, because I'm lazy like that...and I don't have anywhere to put a stack of records at the moment, so in the box they remained. Until I decided to have a cleaning frenzy and opened up the Pandora's box that lay at the foot of my bed.

Inside, I was greeted with 2 years worth of my mail.

Magazines, Christmas cards from people who didn't know I had moved, a box of cookies that a friend had baked and sent to the wrong address by mistake, junk mail, lots of junk mail....the icing on the cake was a bill from a hospital that did not know I had relocated, and sent me REPEATED requests for payment, which of course went unheeded, so I then received a stack of correspondence from a collection agency..again, unheeded. Another lovely gem that I found was a repeated request from the county clerk's office to fill out a form for jury duty, which of course I did not do. So the last correspondence from THEM is that if I do not show up in court by April 11, 2006, I am subject to a $1000 fine.

Two years worth of mail shoved into a box and handed to me as if this were a perfectly sane and natural thing to do.

I mean what the hell am I supposed to do with 2 year old cookies and 10 Shape Magazines from 2006?

I know it wasn't his duty to monitor my mail, but I honestly didn't realize that I was even still getting mail there. I had since moved, changed the address on all my important stuff...changed my address on my drivers license...I would like to think that if he noticed something important (ie a bill from a collection agency, or a last notice from the county clerk's office) that perhaps he could have let me know, but apparently shoving it in a box and moving it around multiple times was clearly easier to him.

All I want to do is write him a scathing email but honestly, what would be the point.

What is the MATTER with people?

Fuck You Friend Zone

On my quest for finding a Someone, I found myself conversing with Tall Guy. Tall Guy and I have been talking for about a month now, with the caveat that he has height issues and only dates other Tall People. But thought it would be fun to get together for a beer with a Short Person like myself, because who can resist the likes of me? ;)

We talked on the phone a lot until we could find a free night for the both of us. Our conversations were lengthy, and always netted out with me laughing my ass off at pretty much everything he said. Which we all know is a huge turn-on to me. Another huge turn-on to me? When someone tells me I can't have something...his conversations always sort of ended with "you know, there is a HUGE height difference between us." (he is on the taller side of 6'4", and I am just under 5'4"). ie, we can probably never date...I reminded him that we were just meeting up for a beer and that he should stop worrying so much.

So we met last night at a bar in TriBeCa before I was to go a show for a friend's birthday. And dude is tall. I made sure to wear 4-inch heels so he wouldn't feel like he towered over me, but I still felt like one of the Lollipop Kids next to him. The thing is, I usually only date Tall People, it's not on purpose, but I do prefer long and lean to being with another Lollipop Kid such as myself.

After a few drinks it was painfully obvious that there was a definite attraction going on...we slid easily into a familiar place, since we'd spent so much time on the phone...but I kept hearing that dreaded "Friend Zone...Friend Zone" resonating in my brain. Fucking Friend Zone. I did NOT want to end up there YET AGAIN! But inevitably, the conversation turned back to the dreaded height bias. To the point where he even felt the need to tell me that if we were to ever have sex, the missionary position would be a joke.

To which I replied, "I only like to be on top."

Well, that seemed to have done the trick, because, at least for the next half hour or so, I'm pretty sure we exited the Friend Zone. Next thing I knew, we were making out like crazy, and then we were leaving the bar, and making out more (I had to stand on the stoop of a neighboring apartment building in order to reach) and then he walked me to my next destination , where I found myself pinned to a wall (standing on yet another stoop). Yea, I don't kiss my friends like that.

Me via text, several hours later: Let's do that again sometime.
Him: Yes, please!

Friday, October 10, 2008

A Little White Whine Over Lunch

So, for weeks I've been chasing after this ridiculous petty cash that my office owes me in the measly amount of $50 bucks. When I submitted the request 3 weeks ago I was not in dire need of this money. I mean, seriously now, $50 bucks? Except now I'm completely cash poor and I kinda need that measly shitty $50 bucks. I've just now found out that the stupid form was sitting on someone's desk for the last 3 weeks, and it wasn't even with the right person! So now it will take me ANOTHER 3 weeks to get my $$$ back. My poor doesn't know what's hit it.

In other news, my office has been having the bathrooms renovated for the last 2 months. They were supposed to be done at the end of September. Except, they're not. Not even close. My cubicle sits right outside the men's room (yea, nice, right?) and one of my coworkers and I peered in there yesterday to see these new and exciting bathrooms with the jacuzzi tubs and saunas (I mean, if we have to wait this long for renovated bathrooms, wouldn't it make sense that they would be luxury bathrooms? Because they care about us that much?), instead we were greeted with a completely gutted cubbyhole with old tile still in place. So I'm not so sure those bathrooms are gonna be ready anytime soon. Today, there seems to be some movement towards getting them done. The drilling and the yelling hasn't stopped since I got in this morning. Even my headphones can't drown them out. Ah, cubicle life.

To make things even more annoying, I've now gotten even Remax2 into the Friend Zone.
This appears to be how I roll now. Good fucking lord.

Weekend. Blessed weekend. Please be kind.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Get Into the Groove

Saturday night I had yet another frustrating, dead-end date with yet another elusive, hard-to-read dude.

He seemed attractive and intelligent-a musician who plays with a few different bands as well as works during the day making high-end instruments. He lives in Brooklyn, works in Brooklyn (yet doesn't know how to get anywhere in Brooklyn, via subway or otherwise, which I found highly suspect)and spent a lot of time discussing his last relationship. Which ended, oh, 5 years ago or so?

The date ended after a few hours, which was kind of fine with me, because after hearing "my ex, who was crazy and had a lot of problems" for about the 17th time in one night..I was ready to bail myself out. I walked him to the train and gave him a hug, to which he was genuinely taken aback. "Nobody likes to hug anymore," he said. "Can I have another one?"

I was happy to oblige. Why the hell not.

So what does a girl do when her lame-ass night ends with a sad guy wanting a little extra time against my breasts? She takes herself to a lesbian bar and dances all night with a bunch of hottie women.

Lesty was on her way when I texted her at 10:30 or so, with another friend in tow. We waited on line for a couple minutes outside the joint, a very inconspicuous place on a quiet corner in "Gowanus" or whatever the hell that neighborhood it even considered Park Slope? Either way, I checked out my competition. There were girls of all shapes and sizes waiting to get in as well. A few men accompanying them, but for the most part, a Sapphic smorgasbord stood in front of me.

The bar was surprisingly large, and in the back, a pole was set up, with an extremely fit, dexterous, and scantily clad woman wrapped around it, sliding up and down it, having sexy time with it. I'm 99.9% hetero, but we were all in agreement that we would consider crossing over to the other team for Pole Lady.

We found ourselves mushed into the very crowded dance floor, and just went with the flow, gyrating to the mix of Justin Timberlake, 90's hip hop, "I'm Britney, Bitch", and 70's disco that pulsated through the room. Beautiful women sandwiched us from all sides, gave us the eye, flirted, and laughed at our ineptness at flirting back. I'm shy enough when a guy throws a little attention my way, place a girl in the mix and I'm all sorts of retarded. But no matter, we spent hours getting our groove on.

My guy friends are all chagrined to hear that I did NOT put my .01% gayness into action and hook up with another woman that night...I did indeed go home alone, which is becoming pretty much the story of my life these days...but you never know. There's always next Saturday ;)

Friday, October 03, 2008

The Friend Zone

Several months back I met a guy through some friends that I was extremely attracted to, and we hit it off like two kids in a sandbox. We've stayed in touch, invited each other to things, hoped to bump into each other at other things, but schedules did not allow us to cross paths again. Until last week.

He invited me out for drinks Sat night, just sort of out of the blue...truth be told I wasn't all that excited about much time had gone by since we first met, I could barely remember what he looked like.

Which became apparent when I walked into the bar and looked right at him, not realizing who he was! Ha!

Now, I was not under any illusion that this meetup was actually a date...I mean, it took this long to get it together, how interested could he possibly be?

After several hours of nonstop laughing, at ourselves and others...playing tunes on the jukebox, and light touching, a shoulder here, a thigh was late, and time to go home. Separately. There was definite talk of additional meetups, and I'm not 100% sure that he WASNT into me to a small degree...and I am definitely, definitely interested in him...but I've thrown myself under that bus called "the friend zone", yet again, I'm afraid.

Once upon a time, there was a girl in me who would never have hesitated to seize the moment, take what I thought I deserved and not worry about the last breakup I can't even count the amount of lovers that I accumulated in a one year period, literally...recklessly stomping through life without a care in the world.

This time around, I have had my share of encounters, yes...but somewhere along the way I have become a big pussy, wishing and wanting and hoping but not DOING. Worrying about consequences or being rejected. Liquid courage isn't even helping these days.

I have now accumulated a nice collection of man friends...not that this is such a horrible thing, but really, do I NEED more man friends? How do I cross the line from friend zone to fuck zone?