The Birthday Present and I have been in a relationship for almost a year now. The first six months before that don't count, since we "sort of" broke up for a month in between, but I think we have determined since sometime in March of last year, we've been "back together".
Of course, while it was all happening, neither of us would dare to call it anything, or make a big deal about it, or even talk about what we were doing with each other. We just sort of did it. We had decided to be "just friends", and I truly thought that's how it was going down. But everytime we hung out as friends, I was just a leeetle too excited to see him, just a leeeetle to eager to touch him somehow, kiss him goodbye smack dab on the mouth, wear clothes that were a leeetle too low cut. You know how it is.
He went to New Orleans last year during Valentine's weekend. I sent him a picture of my boobs, you know, so it would seem like I was there for Mardi Gras right there with him. What a good friend I am!
The shit hit the fan when we went to see Muse together, tickets we had bought before we broke up. And since we were all friendy and shit, of course we were going to go together! And since we had such a good time at the show, we were gonna hang out after and have drinks. And since he lives a block from the venue, it would only make sense to go back to his place and watch movies. And since we were lying in the dark in his bedroom, it would only make sense to get naked and have the best sex we'd ever had (and the one thing we always had was good sex) because I mean don't YOU all do that with all of your friends?
I just remember waking up the next morning and never wanting to leave. In all the time we had dated for the six months prior, I never remembered feeling that way. Something was different, I'll never know how or why, but hot damn I was going to have more of this sex with the Birthday Present and still be able to maintain our cool and easy friendship.
Or not.
Fast forward to this past Halloween. We are crazy about each other. We are calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend, openly, to each other and our friends. I couldn't be happier, except for one thing. I'm pretty sure I've fallen in love with bastard, in fact, I've known it for months. Probably since like May. I knew I couldn't say anything, wouldn't say anything, it was the biggest secret I have ever had to keep.
So I'm pretty sure this guy loves me too, I'm 99.9% sure that he does, but you can't exactly shake someone and smack them into confessing their love for you. Although it almost came to that.
He'd keep saying weird things like "good thing I like you so much" although one night we had a fight about something and I said something like "If I didn't give a shit I wouldn't be so mad. And I really, really give a shit". And he said "I really give a shit about you too, Cheese". And I thought to myself, "I think in a weird way that only two people as dysfunctional as we are could do, we might have just said 'I love you'" But that doesn't really count.
So Halloween night, we went to this party at The Bell House, and it was awesome with writhing, dancing, sweaty costumed people, and disco lights, and loud thumping bassy music. You could barely hear anyone talk, but at one point, Birthday Present said that horrid little phrase again..."It's a good thing I like you so much." I just lost my shit. Like a lunatic. I started yelling over the bassy music that I knew just how much he liked me, he didn't need to keep reminding me. He looked genuinely shocked. "You know I say those things to be funny, right?" he asked me?
Uh, no. No, I didn't.
I told him I had no idea how he felt about me, and he looked at me in utter shock. Right there, under the disco ball, over the bassy music, my Birthday Present said "you know that I love you, Cheese." Very matter of factly, as if he were telling me he had a splinter.
Uh, no. No, I didn't.
I started to cry. I mean, the man is confessing his love for me, finally. Even though he thought he already had. He swears up and down that he has said it before. I asked him "do you think I'd be crying like this if you'd said this to me before? You have never said this to me before." And then we proceeded to have an argument about whether he had or hadn't said "I love you" to me before, over the bassy music, under the disco ball.
He concluded, "Do you think I would deal with your craziness if I DIDN'T love you?"
Touche, I guess.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Be Still My Heart
Although I've had (shitty) insurance for the last year and a half, I truly hadn't set foot in a doctor or dentist's office in that entire time. My last gyno appointment was in December of 2008, where I left with a mammogam prescription in hand, that ended up hanging on my refrigerator with a souvenir magnet from London. I kept getting postcards from the dentist, asking, no BEGGING me to come in for an appointment, as with every passing day my gums were being reduced to rotting flesh. I chose to pretend that I was invincible and that the need for doctors was completely wasted on me, and that was where I was happy to stay, until the day of the Broken Toe.
I started a new job in a satellite office for a very large company in a very small department, and one of my new friends was a yoga fanatic like myself. I started taking classes with her at her cool, downtown yoga studio in a loft in Tribeca. Unfortunately for me, the cool, loft studio also gets really hot, and people get really sweaty, and the floors are made of wood, and bare feet on a sweaty wood floor when you are me = falling down and breaking a toe.
I collapsed onto my mat and showed my friend my swollen big toe. It was breaking before our eyes. "It's fine, it's not broken" she said, not very convincingly, as it turned purple and started curving in abnormally. I hobbled out of class and somehow made it home, spending the night with an ice pack on my foot, every five seconds looking to see if it had miraculously gone back to normal. It hadn't.
As luck would have it, I was able to find a podiatrist who could see me the next day, but the crappy insurance I had been avoiding using all year demanded that I get a referral from my "primary" physician in order to see the podiatrist. When I called the primary care physician, they told me I hadn't been to see them in a bajillion years, and I'd better get my ass down there before I dropped dead of something.
I didn't think anything of it, but my stupid toe created a complete fucking domino effect of doctor's appointments. Well I guess it's not really my toe's fault, but I want to blame it on something other than me just being old and feeble.
While at the doctor, she whipped out her stethoscope and took a listen-nothing abnormal about that. What I didn't like was when she let the assistant take a listen, and the assistant said, very confused, "Her heart doesn't sound like other hearts." What what what? The doctor smiled and said very nonchalantly, "Oh, that's just a murmur."
Excuse me?
I was incredibly freaked out at this news, because at my age I had never been told before that I had a heart murmur. I didn't even really know what one was. I asked her why she wasn't going to tell me and she said it was really no big deal.
Easy for her to say!!
She referred me to a heart specialist, which of course I put off going to as long as possible, because why did I want to go there so he could tell me I had a bad heart and was probably going to die soon, right? I mean, if I was going to die, I'd rather just drop dead then KNOW it was coming. Wouldn't you?
I finally made the appointment and the night before was out having drinks with my friend Reno, who I confided in that I was going to this doctor and really afraid of what was to become of me. Well, Reno had a heart murmur, and regaled me with all sorts of stories of things that had happened to him because of it (mostly mixing drugs and alcohol and ending up with fucked up arythmia's and shit, putting him in the emergency room a bunch of times). Somehow his fucked up stories made me feel a little better, or maybe it was the 3 martinis we downed. But the next day, I went to the heart doctor, and he showed me my heart on a screen, and my aorta, and all my valves, and he pointed out my murmur, and told me it was absolutely 100% nothing to worry about. I left his office with a little sheetlet about my new condition and felt a little better that I didn't have heart cancer or anything else wrong with my that little muscle in my chest. Yay.
At least I know why I get palpitations and fluttery from time to time. I always thought it was my anxiety (always been bad) or too much coffee (it definitely gets worse with caffeine). And I have my toe to thank.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Me, Myself and I
It has been a looooong time since I've been up in here. Too long maybe, I almost feel self-conscious trying to write. I made an attempt at starting up again a couple months back and ended up deleting what I wrote. I don't know when I became so overly aware or overly ashamed or overly censoring of my writing, I mean this is Vulgar Truths dammit! Some things are better left unsaid, but leave it to me to always say them! Why am I not saying them? Am I finally all growed up? Or am I more afraid of what people think than I thought?
I admit that my partial hiatus has actually been due to the very thing I generally don't shy away from talking about...a boy. The Birthday Present has been the #1 guest star in my life for quite some time now, and I wanted to respect his privacy since I do tend to get a little, um, graphic. But I cleared the idea of starting up my blog again with him a while ago. I'd been itching to get back at it, to overshare and dish with you all. So WHY HAVEN'T I?
I will admit that I stumbled across a friend's blog and it has inspired me to start writing again. With reckless abandon, no holds barred. Because otherwise, what's the point? So here I am. Please read me, so I will continue to write. I have so very much to say.
I admit that my partial hiatus has actually been due to the very thing I generally don't shy away from talking about...a boy. The Birthday Present has been the #1 guest star in my life for quite some time now, and I wanted to respect his privacy since I do tend to get a little, um, graphic. But I cleared the idea of starting up my blog again with him a while ago. I'd been itching to get back at it, to overshare and dish with you all. So WHY HAVEN'T I?
I will admit that I stumbled across a friend's blog and it has inspired me to start writing again. With reckless abandon, no holds barred. Because otherwise, what's the point? So here I am. Please read me, so I will continue to write. I have so very much to say.
Monday, April 05, 2010
Victim? Or Victim of Circumstance?
It's really difficult to tell yourself that you're not a victim when, let's face it, all roads lead to that conclusion.
I've been on countless interviews in the last 3 months, all of which have proved bullshit and a waste of time. Same can be said for my dating life. Yadda yadda yadda, same shit, different day. Same shit, different YEAR.
Einstein said that the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again, only to expect different results. Einstein was a smart motherfucker. I do believe I could very well be on the brink of insanity, based on that alone. So I stopped thinking of myself as a "victim" of this shitty economy and this shitty hand that I've been dealt, and decided to take a different path.
I've been toying with the idea of starting my own business for a while now, and one of my friends is extremely supportive of this plan, helping me with ideas for a website and marketing strategies. I've given in and spoken to my parents about financial support. I'm going back to school this summer. I've changed the way I eat and lost a couple pounds. Not enough, but it's a start.
I spent the morning researching financial aid plans and deciding on my first course, after a lengthy workout at the gym. It's a beautiful day outside, and as I headed home from the coffee shop I had been working at, I probably had a faggy little spring in my step, feeling all good about myself.
As I turned onto my block, I heard one of the losers who hangs out on his stoop all day yell out "Relacore."
I knew he was talking to me. I tried to ignore it. Why he thought this was an acceptable way to get my attention I have no idea. But guess what, it worked. "RELACORE". As I passed by him, he then shouted, "But that fat ass is niiiiice."
I couldn't help it. I turned around. "What's wrong with you?" I demanded to know.
"Nothing." he smiled. "What's wrong with you, Relacore?"
He kept taunting me, and my fatness, all the way down the block. I started screaming obscenities at him, he screamed some back, and he watched me walk into my building and slam the front gate shut, still screaming.
Do I give a shit if he thinks my body is less than perfect? Probably not so much, although I didn't really need him to remind me...but unfortunately all the feelings of inadequacy that I have been trying to fight off these last few months came rushing back, making me feel like a victim on my own street, in my own home, all over again.
I've been on countless interviews in the last 3 months, all of which have proved bullshit and a waste of time. Same can be said for my dating life. Yadda yadda yadda, same shit, different day. Same shit, different YEAR.
Einstein said that the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again, only to expect different results. Einstein was a smart motherfucker. I do believe I could very well be on the brink of insanity, based on that alone. So I stopped thinking of myself as a "victim" of this shitty economy and this shitty hand that I've been dealt, and decided to take a different path.
I've been toying with the idea of starting my own business for a while now, and one of my friends is extremely supportive of this plan, helping me with ideas for a website and marketing strategies. I've given in and spoken to my parents about financial support. I'm going back to school this summer. I've changed the way I eat and lost a couple pounds. Not enough, but it's a start.
I spent the morning researching financial aid plans and deciding on my first course, after a lengthy workout at the gym. It's a beautiful day outside, and as I headed home from the coffee shop I had been working at, I probably had a faggy little spring in my step, feeling all good about myself.
As I turned onto my block, I heard one of the losers who hangs out on his stoop all day yell out "Relacore."
I knew he was talking to me. I tried to ignore it. Why he thought this was an acceptable way to get my attention I have no idea. But guess what, it worked. "RELACORE". As I passed by him, he then shouted, "But that fat ass is niiiiice."
I couldn't help it. I turned around. "What's wrong with you?" I demanded to know.
"Nothing." he smiled. "What's wrong with you, Relacore?"
He kept taunting me, and my fatness, all the way down the block. I started screaming obscenities at him, he screamed some back, and he watched me walk into my building and slam the front gate shut, still screaming.
Do I give a shit if he thinks my body is less than perfect? Probably not so much, although I didn't really need him to remind me...but unfortunately all the feelings of inadequacy that I have been trying to fight off these last few months came rushing back, making me feel like a victim on my own street, in my own home, all over again.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Sexting Your Ex (and, other things not to do in a snowstorm)
So, I've been snowbound pretty much the entire day, as of much of NYC. For most people this is a welcome treat, but for me, being that I do not work right now, it has been hell. Pure, unadulterated hell. Think about the boredom to end all boredom, and then add infinity to it. That is my day today.
Well, when one is bored, what is one to do? I forced myself to go to yoga, and that was great, but that was at 830 this morning. So now I've got 8 million more hours to go before I can go to sleep, and wake up tomorrow and hopefully be able to leave the house without being pelted by snow/sleet/precipitation.
To be fair, I met a guy over the weekend who asked me to go skiing with him today. And we called each other at the crack of dawn and discussed the skiing, and I decided that I most definitely did NOT want to be stuck at some slope with this guy should the snow get worse and we not be able to drive home later today. So I put the kibosh on skiing.
Said guy asked me if I wanted to hang out later today, but my response? "Dude, it's 730am, I'm going back to bed. And you should do the same."
Yea, not so much into the skiing guy.
Birthday Present and I decided to call it quits last week. There were so many reasons, and yet not that many reasons. I still like him, and he still likes me. We still talk just as much as we did before, and we still want to hang out, as much as we did before. I think we still want to have sex with each other, judging from the fact that we spent most of the afternoon discussing the porn that I was watching and, probably, attempting to get him to come over and watch it with me.
Well, that didn't happen, and the afternoon just wore on, until a friend of mine came over and we started to drink, and then her boyfriend came over, and we drank some more, and seeing them together reminded me of yet again how everything is a-changing. How most everyone I know is pairing up, and I, again am not.
One of the things that I realize I do is attract people who are not, in any way shape or form, available. Somehow this might seem like a challenge to me, but I don't even do it on purpose.
After a conversation I had later on in the evening, again provoked by boredom and fueled by lots of vodka, I realized that I do come across as the girl who might provide a needed distraction to men who are not ready for commitment, or who want a piece of dandy candy on the side.
As much as it feels good for the short-term (oh, what? he likes me better? he likes me,
period?), I am not interested in being that girl, now, or anymore.
If it means that my life will be quiet, vanilla, and drama-free for a while, so be it. I want more, I know that life throws us curve balls and we don't know where they will land, but I do not want to be anyone's back-up plan anymore.
Well, when one is bored, what is one to do? I forced myself to go to yoga, and that was great, but that was at 830 this morning. So now I've got 8 million more hours to go before I can go to sleep, and wake up tomorrow and hopefully be able to leave the house without being pelted by snow/sleet/precipitation.
To be fair, I met a guy over the weekend who asked me to go skiing with him today. And we called each other at the crack of dawn and discussed the skiing, and I decided that I most definitely did NOT want to be stuck at some slope with this guy should the snow get worse and we not be able to drive home later today. So I put the kibosh on skiing.
Said guy asked me if I wanted to hang out later today, but my response? "Dude, it's 730am, I'm going back to bed. And you should do the same."
Yea, not so much into the skiing guy.
Birthday Present and I decided to call it quits last week. There were so many reasons, and yet not that many reasons. I still like him, and he still likes me. We still talk just as much as we did before, and we still want to hang out, as much as we did before. I think we still want to have sex with each other, judging from the fact that we spent most of the afternoon discussing the porn that I was watching and, probably, attempting to get him to come over and watch it with me.
Well, that didn't happen, and the afternoon just wore on, until a friend of mine came over and we started to drink, and then her boyfriend came over, and we drank some more, and seeing them together reminded me of yet again how everything is a-changing. How most everyone I know is pairing up, and I, again am not.
One of the things that I realize I do is attract people who are not, in any way shape or form, available. Somehow this might seem like a challenge to me, but I don't even do it on purpose.
After a conversation I had later on in the evening, again provoked by boredom and fueled by lots of vodka, I realized that I do come across as the girl who might provide a needed distraction to men who are not ready for commitment, or who want a piece of dandy candy on the side.
As much as it feels good for the short-term (oh, what? he likes me better? he likes me,
period?), I am not interested in being that girl, now, or anymore.
If it means that my life will be quiet, vanilla, and drama-free for a while, so be it. I want more, I know that life throws us curve balls and we don't know where they will land, but I do not want to be anyone's back-up plan anymore.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Men of 2009 Part II
Forgive me readers, for I have neglected you all and left you in suspense...the Men of 2009 has left you dangling and waiting for more. Never fear, because you knew that I wouldn't let you down...there is PLENTY more to discuss.
Truffle Man
Truffle Man was the very last guy from crotch.com that I went out with. I decided that no matter how it panned out, crotch.com, perv.com, and the rest of the douchebaggy dating sites were getting thrown out the window. I really enjoyed Truffle Man's company, we had a lot of things in common, but I didn't feel any attraction to him. I thought that a third date would perhaps be the deal-breaker for me, and we tried several times to make the third date happen, but he was having some family issues (very ill twin brother) that were keeping him from being able to make plans, so I took that as a sign.
I actually sometimes think about him and want to send him a friendly email to see how his brother is, but that would probably be weird and misconstrued. So..moving on.
LA Dude
Strewn throughout most of this time period was an ongoing correspondence with a very insane and nutty, but lovable fella.
One random nondescript day sometime in the Spring, I received a Facebook friend request from a guy in LA that I did not know. Moments later, an email landed in my inbox from a friend of mine, to me, with the LA guy copied on it...trying to "set us up". I'm guessing that he probably saw my picture, inquired about me, and next thing we knew, we were on some weird Facebook blind date! I didn't think anything of it, after checking out his profile and deciding he was cute and harmless (and lived 3000 miles away, so really, in the grand scheme of things, who gives a crap anyway?) Little did I know how all of those things were so incredibly WRONG.
So, we exchanged a few emails. At one point he told me he was coming to NY for a work thing, sometime over the summer. Again, didn't think much of it, sort of tossed out a "cool, let's have a drink when you do." And never gave it a second thought.
Somehow, we started following each other on Twitter...and that's kind of where the magic happened...how somebody manages to find love on Twitter I'll never know, but I, of course, managed to do it.
First, the DMs. That moved on to texts. Texts turned into phone calls. Late night phone calls that went on for hours. Phone calls turned into sending each other silly photo texts...and now I'm starting to learn he wasn't cute at all (he was gorgeous) and he was kind of not harmless (in fact, a bit of a heartbreaker and dirty, oh so DIRTY). Photo texts turned into webcam chats, and then he books his trip to NY and before I know what's happening he is on a plane and headed to Brooklyn, for a week.
I waited for his arrival in my local bar, nervous as all get out. I mean, for fuck's sake, we spent 3 months talking and texting and webcamming and we knew some pretty intimate things about each other, and I knew I found him attractive and vice versa, but in person, who knew? The risk of disappointment when I put myself in these insane situations is SO high. But I had a gut feeling, and I went with it.
He walked into the bar and we literally started making out right there on the table. I think the patrons and bartender barfed in their mouths a little. The chemistry was pretty instantaneous, and for a week or so, we pretended we were a couple and madly in love, and it was probably one of the funnest weeks I've had in my adult life.
(at the end of the week he magically transformed from Prince Charming back to a frog, but I choose to omit that from my memory because, you know, I enjoy living in a fantasy world, obvs).
Birthday Present
I met Birthday Present a few years ago right after my ex and I split. He was yet another too young guy and at the time I was going to eat the heads off of any guy who came anywhere near me. And forget about the young ones. I swore off those FOREVER....well it turned out that Birthday Present had an on-again off-again girlfriend so our mutual curiosity of each other morphed into a friendship. But throughout the friendship, I was still curious. And he was cute.
Friends of ours used to comment on our chemistry, and we would just brush it off or laugh and do the whole "oh we're just friends" dance. But sometimes friends know us better than we know ourselves, I think.
This past summer, I had a birthday party at a bar a few blocks from my apartment, and Birthday Present was one of the attendees. I was never 100% sure when he was on or off with the girlfriend, but I'm hoping that he was off that night because, well, I fucked him.
Oops.
Let's just say the mutual curiosity was definitely peaked after that, and I gave myself multiple birthday presents that night, and for several months afterwards. In fact, I am still receiving the Birthday Present :)
So, I guess you'll have to stay tuned for what happens next, cuz your guess is as good as mine!!
Truffle Man
Truffle Man was the very last guy from crotch.com that I went out with. I decided that no matter how it panned out, crotch.com, perv.com, and the rest of the douchebaggy dating sites were getting thrown out the window. I really enjoyed Truffle Man's company, we had a lot of things in common, but I didn't feel any attraction to him. I thought that a third date would perhaps be the deal-breaker for me, and we tried several times to make the third date happen, but he was having some family issues (very ill twin brother) that were keeping him from being able to make plans, so I took that as a sign.
I actually sometimes think about him and want to send him a friendly email to see how his brother is, but that would probably be weird and misconstrued. So..moving on.
LA Dude
Strewn throughout most of this time period was an ongoing correspondence with a very insane and nutty, but lovable fella.
One random nondescript day sometime in the Spring, I received a Facebook friend request from a guy in LA that I did not know. Moments later, an email landed in my inbox from a friend of mine, to me, with the LA guy copied on it...trying to "set us up". I'm guessing that he probably saw my picture, inquired about me, and next thing we knew, we were on some weird Facebook blind date! I didn't think anything of it, after checking out his profile and deciding he was cute and harmless (and lived 3000 miles away, so really, in the grand scheme of things, who gives a crap anyway?) Little did I know how all of those things were so incredibly WRONG.
So, we exchanged a few emails. At one point he told me he was coming to NY for a work thing, sometime over the summer. Again, didn't think much of it, sort of tossed out a "cool, let's have a drink when you do." And never gave it a second thought.
Somehow, we started following each other on Twitter...and that's kind of where the magic happened...how somebody manages to find love on Twitter I'll never know, but I, of course, managed to do it.
First, the DMs. That moved on to texts. Texts turned into phone calls. Late night phone calls that went on for hours. Phone calls turned into sending each other silly photo texts...and now I'm starting to learn he wasn't cute at all (he was gorgeous) and he was kind of not harmless (in fact, a bit of a heartbreaker and dirty, oh so DIRTY). Photo texts turned into webcam chats, and then he books his trip to NY and before I know what's happening he is on a plane and headed to Brooklyn, for a week.
I waited for his arrival in my local bar, nervous as all get out. I mean, for fuck's sake, we spent 3 months talking and texting and webcamming and we knew some pretty intimate things about each other, and I knew I found him attractive and vice versa, but in person, who knew? The risk of disappointment when I put myself in these insane situations is SO high. But I had a gut feeling, and I went with it.
He walked into the bar and we literally started making out right there on the table. I think the patrons and bartender barfed in their mouths a little. The chemistry was pretty instantaneous, and for a week or so, we pretended we were a couple and madly in love, and it was probably one of the funnest weeks I've had in my adult life.
(at the end of the week he magically transformed from Prince Charming back to a frog, but I choose to omit that from my memory because, you know, I enjoy living in a fantasy world, obvs).
Birthday Present
I met Birthday Present a few years ago right after my ex and I split. He was yet another too young guy and at the time I was going to eat the heads off of any guy who came anywhere near me. And forget about the young ones. I swore off those FOREVER....well it turned out that Birthday Present had an on-again off-again girlfriend so our mutual curiosity of each other morphed into a friendship. But throughout the friendship, I was still curious. And he was cute.
Friends of ours used to comment on our chemistry, and we would just brush it off or laugh and do the whole "oh we're just friends" dance. But sometimes friends know us better than we know ourselves, I think.
This past summer, I had a birthday party at a bar a few blocks from my apartment, and Birthday Present was one of the attendees. I was never 100% sure when he was on or off with the girlfriend, but I'm hoping that he was off that night because, well, I fucked him.
Oops.
Let's just say the mutual curiosity was definitely peaked after that, and I gave myself multiple birthday presents that night, and for several months afterwards. In fact, I am still receiving the Birthday Present :)
So, I guess you'll have to stay tuned for what happens next, cuz your guess is as good as mine!!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The Men of 2009/Part I
Aught-nine was fraught with naughtiness, much of which I have neglected to discuss for a variety of reasons.
This is definitely late in coming, but what better way to start a new year than to take a look back at the Men of 2009. Some of whom you don't even know about yet! Yes, I've been very, very bad, keeping secrets from you all...but honestly I've been more concerned with my job situation than anything else...but I think it's time to go back in time and see who made the cut, who didn't, who was the biggest asshole, and who broke my heart. Oh if only I could make a calendar of the Men of 2009!
Remax2
At the top of the list we have Remax2, who probably played the biggest role in my blog this year. Beginning with this very confusing and conflicting situation at the beginning of 2009. I spent many, many months misreading his signs, wishing, waiting, hoping...which erupted into a horrible late night drunken screamfest one night. It almost ended our relationship, but somehow, we talked it out, and since then, we have been purely platonic and Best Friends Forever. It blows my mind when I think about the feelings that I thought I had for him, but upon further investigation I truly believe I was avoiding the inevitable, ie, having to meet a real person and have a real relationship. Remax2 was my fantasy, but our friendship is a way better reality then the fantasy ever could have been.
Fake Remax2
One day I received an email on crotch.com from a Remax2 doppelganger and I, of course, thought it would be a GREAT fucking idea to go out with him and "replace" Remax2. We met at a bar in between our two neighborhoods and he was quite adorable. Our chemistry was obvious and before I knew it he was grabbing my face in his hands and kissing me passionately right there in the middle of Classon Avenue on a freezing January evening. I told him I wanted to take things slow, somehow he ended up coming home with me--we practically ran the 15 or so blocks to my apartment, partly from the cold, partly so we could make out some more. I remember there was a hand job involved, and he wore tighty whiteys.
Smug
I also met Smug on crotch.com and he wanted to make me his girlfriend from the minute we said hello. I was hesitant to jump into something so quickly but ultimately found myself putting aside my fears and letting things just happen. Shortly thereafter, Smug broke up with me in a text message, stating that he was just crazy. I decided to agree with him, drank half a bottle of bourbon, and moved on.
Shithead Ban (this is what he is listed as in my cell phone)
I met Shithead Ban at a bar one night while out with my friends for a Hen Party. We exchanged phone numbers and, surprisingly, he did call me one night in an attempt to get together. I had him meet me at a friend's bday party where I managed to seduce him and lure him back to my apartment although he claimed he was allergic to cats. Why HE is the shithead I will never understand, since I was the asshole that lied and deceived him in order for cheap sex. What you all DONT know is that I saw him one night a few months later while trolling on crotch.com (that damned site again...thankfully I have abandoned this venue for good) and he came across as SUCH a tool. I considered myself lucky that I had dodged a bullet, sent him a message wishing him luck with his dating endeavors, and then blocked him so I wouldn't have to see his smug, toolish face in my search results ever again!
Tall Guy
The first time I met Tall Guy he told me he could never date me because I was too short, and then we spent the rest of the date making out.
There were a few other dates after that, but he really wasn't kidding, he was super self-conscious about our height difference. (He is 15 inches taller than me).
The problem was, we really liked each other, and often after nights of drinking we would end up on the phone until 3am, talking and pretending we were going to hook up, but never actually doing anything about it.
One night, I was out with a friend, and I texted him to say hi, and as luck would have it, he was in Brooklyn, not far from me. Next thing I knew, friend was ditched, and I was waiting outside a divey bar for the Tall Guy, not really knowing what was going to happen next.
Thankfully, I found out soon enough, and I was certainly not disappointed. Let's just say that what they say about size, it's all true.
The next morning he didn't bolt like I thought he would, wanting to take me to breakfast and then lingering for hours, walking around the neighborhood and finding all sorts of excuses to not leave. Finally letting him get on the subway felt bittersweet to me, because I just knew that he was going to remember his height issues and that was going to be that...for almost a split second after receiving a really sweet email from him suggesting that we get together again, I was hopeful. But, as I figured...he moved on to search for a 6 foot amazon princess that wouldn't make him feel like such a giant.
So that's the first six months of 2009. Stay tuned for Part II, which will be posted shortly!
This is definitely late in coming, but what better way to start a new year than to take a look back at the Men of 2009. Some of whom you don't even know about yet! Yes, I've been very, very bad, keeping secrets from you all...but honestly I've been more concerned with my job situation than anything else...but I think it's time to go back in time and see who made the cut, who didn't, who was the biggest asshole, and who broke my heart. Oh if only I could make a calendar of the Men of 2009!
Remax2
At the top of the list we have Remax2, who probably played the biggest role in my blog this year. Beginning with this very confusing and conflicting situation at the beginning of 2009. I spent many, many months misreading his signs, wishing, waiting, hoping...which erupted into a horrible late night drunken screamfest one night. It almost ended our relationship, but somehow, we talked it out, and since then, we have been purely platonic and Best Friends Forever. It blows my mind when I think about the feelings that I thought I had for him, but upon further investigation I truly believe I was avoiding the inevitable, ie, having to meet a real person and have a real relationship. Remax2 was my fantasy, but our friendship is a way better reality then the fantasy ever could have been.
Fake Remax2
One day I received an email on crotch.com from a Remax2 doppelganger and I, of course, thought it would be a GREAT fucking idea to go out with him and "replace" Remax2. We met at a bar in between our two neighborhoods and he was quite adorable. Our chemistry was obvious and before I knew it he was grabbing my face in his hands and kissing me passionately right there in the middle of Classon Avenue on a freezing January evening. I told him I wanted to take things slow, somehow he ended up coming home with me--we practically ran the 15 or so blocks to my apartment, partly from the cold, partly so we could make out some more. I remember there was a hand job involved, and he wore tighty whiteys.
Smug
I also met Smug on crotch.com and he wanted to make me his girlfriend from the minute we said hello. I was hesitant to jump into something so quickly but ultimately found myself putting aside my fears and letting things just happen. Shortly thereafter, Smug broke up with me in a text message, stating that he was just crazy. I decided to agree with him, drank half a bottle of bourbon, and moved on.
Shithead Ban (this is what he is listed as in my cell phone)
I met Shithead Ban at a bar one night while out with my friends for a Hen Party. We exchanged phone numbers and, surprisingly, he did call me one night in an attempt to get together. I had him meet me at a friend's bday party where I managed to seduce him and lure him back to my apartment although he claimed he was allergic to cats. Why HE is the shithead I will never understand, since I was the asshole that lied and deceived him in order for cheap sex. What you all DONT know is that I saw him one night a few months later while trolling on crotch.com (that damned site again...thankfully I have abandoned this venue for good) and he came across as SUCH a tool. I considered myself lucky that I had dodged a bullet, sent him a message wishing him luck with his dating endeavors, and then blocked him so I wouldn't have to see his smug, toolish face in my search results ever again!
Tall Guy
The first time I met Tall Guy he told me he could never date me because I was too short, and then we spent the rest of the date making out.
There were a few other dates after that, but he really wasn't kidding, he was super self-conscious about our height difference. (He is 15 inches taller than me).
The problem was, we really liked each other, and often after nights of drinking we would end up on the phone until 3am, talking and pretending we were going to hook up, but never actually doing anything about it.
One night, I was out with a friend, and I texted him to say hi, and as luck would have it, he was in Brooklyn, not far from me. Next thing I knew, friend was ditched, and I was waiting outside a divey bar for the Tall Guy, not really knowing what was going to happen next.
Thankfully, I found out soon enough, and I was certainly not disappointed. Let's just say that what they say about size, it's all true.
The next morning he didn't bolt like I thought he would, wanting to take me to breakfast and then lingering for hours, walking around the neighborhood and finding all sorts of excuses to not leave. Finally letting him get on the subway felt bittersweet to me, because I just knew that he was going to remember his height issues and that was going to be that...for almost a split second after receiving a really sweet email from him suggesting that we get together again, I was hopeful. But, as I figured...he moved on to search for a 6 foot amazon princess that wouldn't make him feel like such a giant.
So that's the first six months of 2009. Stay tuned for Part II, which will be posted shortly!
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