It’s Not a Walk of Shame if I’m Not Ashamed

The universe is a very quirky bitch who I sometimes consider my best friend, and other times my enemy, but most of the time I think she’s funny. Like 'laugh out loud, this is not a coincidence, this is the cosmos fucking with me' kind of funny.

I ran into the Brit out at a bar last night. It was a bar I had never been to and was in neither of our neighborhoods. We were practically in New Jersey.

I wouldn’t have been there if my friend Kelly and I hadn’t decided to meet my friend Kate. If Kate had been on time in meeting us then we would’ve stayed at the lounge we were supposed to meet at. But we got there before her and she was running late.

It was crowded and boring so we left after one round and went three blocks down the street to another bar.

After getting a round of drinks we did a lap and settled on standing by the pool tables. Someone farted so we shifted over a few steps.

Then I almost bump into the Brit. We stared at each other for 30 seconds before I burst out laughing. I hadn’t seen him since November but we’d been texting.

He explained he was out with his ex girlfriends guy friends. Hello, complicated.

He introduced me as his friend and I thought even that was stretching it.

Friends normally see each other with their clothes on more often then we do and know each others last names.

We both prefer it this way.

It’s the least complicated and more honest thing I have going.

We have no emotions attached to it and keep it physical.

We make each other laugh.

He has an accent.

I went over to his place at the end of the night and per usual he passed out before I was fully satisfied. He was up early and he was completely wide awake, if you know what I mean.

I don’t understand men, do hangovers have no effect on you? Do you think sex is the cure to everything? It was painful to even open my eyes and all he wanted to do was get a happy morning. When I’m hungover all I want to do is crawl into a hole.

Though the night wasn’t perfect and he rushed me out to pack for a business trip, it was still fun and as I put my tight dress and stockings back on and walked the streets, I couldn’t help but smile. The sun was shining, it wasn’t cold out and I was probably still a little drunk but overall I acted in the moment and listened to myself in the present.

Sure, the booze helped but I was still smiling and standing the next day, even through the headache. As I walked through Union Square at 9am and was probably mistaken for a hooker, I realized that taking the small enjoyment of being wanted by a man was something I was missing and for the sake of all my lady parts, should go after more often.

Anything Else

If what you’re doing isn’t working, try anything else. I heard that line in a Woody Allen movie and don’t apply it to my own life enough. It’s time to.

A friend set me up with a guy on Wednesday night. The only problem was- the set up took place when were out at last call after hours of drinking. At one point I told him I thought he was gay, he then took the next couple of hours to prove me wrong with hardcore flirting over the pool table.

He’s older (shocking) and works in my industry (gasp).

He’s more metro then I like and also kinda short.

According to my friend though, he’s good in bed. Yes, they hooked up once, right as she started to date her last boyfriend.

I’ve never slept with someone my friend has also slept with but there’s a first time for everything.

I gave him my number when he asked for it at the end of the night. We’ve been texting and are going out early next week.

I wish I felt more excited about going out with him.

But the possibility of my lower half officially starting the New Year is enough for me to agree to the date. I haven’t gotten some loving since October with Chris (who I’m assuming got kidnapped by gypsies). It’s time people.

I’ve been reviewing my posts from this time last year. I was a hell of a lot more analytical and poetic. But I’ve gotten more comfortable with everything recently, the dips and hills. This time last year I was walking on eggshells and guarded.

I’m not on eggshells anymore. I’m on the stable hard ground that I laid down myself. I can laugh at the little things and swallow the big things that life decides to challenge me with.

Do I miss someone holding my hand through a crowd and making me coffee in the morning? Yes. But at the same time, my life has more weight to it now then it did a year ago so though I don’t have a boyfriend, I still have people I can grab on to when I fall.

And in the end, that’s all that really matters.

Fired Up

I picked up my third January half gallon of milk tonight, this year is officially moving along. It’s exciting but mostly scary that we’re almost into February. I’m realizing I have so many little habits that roll into bigger things that I just don’t like. I’ve been a talker and not a doer about making this dragon year different, so here's what's been on my mind.

I used to be able to get up and go to the gym every morning, and I haven’t done that in months...like months. My strict four times a week regiment has now slipped to one or two. My body feels different and I’m not a fan. It bothers me more then I want it to.

I used to read the newspaper every weekend but I still have a two week old paper sitting on my dining room table. Must remind myself that facebook is not the actual news. Seriously, I need to make it a weekly event and leave it at that.

I’ve told myself a hundred times that I’d start following politics, but when I tell you I have no idea what’s going on with the election, I’m not exaggerating. It’s like whenever the subject is within five miles from me I immediately want to read a comic book. Smiling and nodding in conversations is getting old. I'm a smart girl and yet this stuff bores the hell out of me.

I told myself I’d be open to love and dating and a relationship and blue birds and all the shit but when I think about my first JDate on Friday I start to mentally wine like a little kid. Inside I groan ‘But I don’t want to make a new friend. I want to play with the friends I have!’ I still haven’t confirmed time or place with him. Am I emotionally cock blocking myself?

I’m in my 20s and it’s not going to last forever. I need to have more fun with a capital F and take more risks. I feel like I’ve barely started this chapter and I’m already being pushed on to the next one. I want to have risque, gasp worthy stories. There’s absolutely no reason not to so what’s holding me back?

Why do I have this old-lady, homebody syndrome most of the time? Is it the winter blues or is the blockade around my heart literally cock blocking every angle to the point where I’m playing everything too safe?

I’ll take suggestions! My pen and paper are ready!

Open Call

I recently got a facebook email from a guy I had one date with when I studied in London in 2004. Were were in one class together and went out for Italian in my neighborhood. I remember laughing a lot...and being so nervous that I ate sushi before the date. We didn't kiss, but I remember it being one of the best dates I ever had. Nothing happened afterwards but we've been in touch. He lives in Rhode Island and I haven't seen him since I was 19.

We've had a long distance back pocket friendship since then. In touch, because we both knew we had that one great date.

The message said he wanted to come and visit me in the City and take me out 'for lunch or something'. This probably isn't happening till February but later he messaged me again and asked if I was seeing anyone who'd be mad about him taking me out. All I could think was 'Oh, so it's THAT kind of lunch. K, I'll remember to shave.'

I'm open to seeing him and not expecting a thing. He was seeing someone for a few years and they were living together. I guess I don't have to ask if he's still seeing her. Oh shit, maybe I should. Who someone was at 19 isn't who they are over 8 years later...

Well I wanted to widen my dating circle this year and I guess the universe is responding in it's typical quirky offbeat way.

Bring it '12...bring it.

Online

Alright, I'm now officially signed up for online dating. I'm tired of my mother asking me. She's so adament that she's reinbursing me. Also, whenever I get stuck with some area of my life I typically remind myself that 'If what you're doing isn't working, try anything else." So, here goes.

So far the most interesting email I've gotten is a guy telling me I'm too pretty to be online dating. Then he said that the odds of finding someone online is like winning the lottery...he didn't mention that he felt like he won when he saw me. If this was a Lifetime movie, that would've been the next line.

I gotta say the biggest thing I don't like is being able to see who's viewed you. In theory this is a good thing but doesn't it really just show you whose passed on you? And who doesn't like your photoes enough to even send one of those pre-made generic emails? All it does is show you whose looked at you and doesn't like you. I need the guy perspective on this..

Also- so NOT a fan of the instant message feature. All I can think is- please at least try pretending you know how to write full sentences in some clever way that gets my attention. 'What's up?' via a chat window is a deal breaker.

Any advice or tips? I'm off to a coffee shop.

Time to Clown Around

There were about ten of us tonight and most of them were not what I’d considered my group.

Most of them were my friend’s boyfriend’s friends and very French.

I don’t mean to stereotype but they mostly drank red wine, rolled their own cigarettes, ate cheese and chocolate and talked about which small town in France the red wine came from. I was out of my element and yet it was New Years Eve, so drinking, eating and socializing were on my to do list.

I had only seen someone roll their own cigarette in movies, so to see it happen it real life was just plain charming and awesome. I had her roll one for me.

I didn’t inhale right and didn’t smoke it slow enough, but I still felt charming.

The oysters covered in bacon (or maybe they were mussels or snails) was soon replaced with fa guo and then lots of chocolate cake. It seemed like the only thing to do was to eat and chain smoke and drink more red wine...even though I hate that red wine stains my teeth and lips.

I didn’t have too much to say to the Frenchies...I spoke to some guys who weren’t sure what I meant when I tried to explain how my recent trips to both Germany and Israel were paid for because I was Jewish. They seemed lost at ‘Jewish’.

I kept drinking and eating.

My favorite part of it turning midnight and being surrounded by French, was of course, the double kiss. I didn’t feel a full loss at not having a midnight kiss because I had multiple double kisses.

Thank god for the French.

The dance party and more chocolate cake started shortly after that.

My friend’s French BF started letting loose at that point and soon I got envious that she had a long term parter in crime.

I had to leave on a high night, mid dance party before the blues set in.

So I did something that I don’t normally do at 2AM on a Sunday morning.. I walked.

With my Ipod in...I walked to the meatpacking district, which I assumed besides times square, would be the most popular place and I was right.

I don’t know why but I needed to end 2011/start 2012 this way- watching girlfriends curse out their boyfriends, best friends get into fights about nothing, drunken asses getting kicked out of clubs.

Maybe it was a last minute needed esteem boost but it worked.

I got on the train heading uptown and couldn’t stop smiling.

The energy in the air owned me.

One part of me was mad about how sober I was, the other part was entertained by every subtle ‘I love New York” I heard.

People picked up on my smiling. A man offered the seat next to me and I looked closer at him.

“You look like you’ve been making out with a clown” I said.

He smiled.

“I got hugged by a chorus girl in Times Sq.” he explained,

and then asked if he could kiss me.

He asked while furiously texting on his phone.

A moment later he cursed about the cell service.

“Just hours into the new year and you’re already bitching about lack of cell service underground...you need to make out with more clowns and text less.” I said.

Others on the train heard this and smiled.

“Will you make out with me?” he asked politely.

“No. I’m not a clown.” I explained and got off on my stop with a smirk.

I leave my story on this note- at the most surprising times, right before I let sadness take me,

I sometimes choose happiness and I remember to smile, simply at the smallest things.

Tonight, though it was the end of a very long year, I could’ve let myself go in the other direction per usual...but instead I told a stranger to kiss more clowns...because in the end, kissing should always win out no matter what.