As Special K and I shared a bottle of red on my roof last night, she launched on a tangent that is her love of scary movies. I quipped, "Scary Movie 4 is NOT a scary move!"
To which she raised the ante by suggesting we go see Silent Hill tonight.
10pm at The Orpheum--here we go!
I LOVE scary movies. Truly enjoy and adore them--plot lines notwithstanding, everything from a slasher flick to a true psychological thriller are scrumptious morsels of mind-numbing fun in my mainstream entertainment spectrum.
Tommy may join if his volleyball game gets lost in the mix...looking doubtful--their team is pretty good.
I should invite Jaylin...he's a movie fiend--but he's probably heading up to Westchester as he is wont to do every other weekend and he was in town last weekend. Plus the last thing I need to do is incorporate him in my daily life--surefire way to ruin a good setup.
April 28, 2006
Looking Sucks
Looking for apartments is as fruitless as looking for a boyfriend...damn you Manhattan. No love is lost on my fair city this week.
I'm getting exceedingly bitter about the prospects. Not finding an appropriate home to share with Tommy and Norman is fast becoming the straw that will break my sweet yet vicious back. GRRR!
The two (convertible three) bedrooms we looked at so far have been acceptable at best. Tommy isn't going to move if we can't match his current comfort level--as well he shouldn't. Norman is in Las Vegas so unable to participate in the search but wants to be looped in on the final prospects but he doesn't need a place till September--rightfully so. I'm the only one with a looming deadline and a sense of burgeoning urgency. I also have the highest standards in terms of space--closet SPACE!
If we don't find a place with a minimum of 1000sq. feet for under $4K, it's over.
I'm quickly accepting that I'm moving to Brooklyn.
I'm getting exceedingly bitter about the prospects. Not finding an appropriate home to share with Tommy and Norman is fast becoming the straw that will break my sweet yet vicious back. GRRR!
The two (convertible three) bedrooms we looked at so far have been acceptable at best. Tommy isn't going to move if we can't match his current comfort level--as well he shouldn't. Norman is in Las Vegas so unable to participate in the search but wants to be looped in on the final prospects but he doesn't need a place till September--rightfully so. I'm the only one with a looming deadline and a sense of burgeoning urgency. I also have the highest standards in terms of space--closet SPACE!
If we don't find a place with a minimum of 1000sq. feet for under $4K, it's over.
I'm quickly accepting that I'm moving to Brooklyn.
April 27, 2006
Moving!
My lease is up on June 15, 2006; with it my time on the Upper East Side has come to a close. I'm sick of it. I protested to the point that I have become what I loathe: the cute pudgy girl with monochromatic style, stapled in jersey cotton, toting a purse puppy and perfectly pedicured toes in adorable flats.
To buck this and other stigmas of becoming generic, the move is imminent.
I was scheduled to take the big step to solo living but after looking at rent prices and my closet--I realized that it's a no go in Manhattan. I'm either going to have to suck it up and move to (gasp!) Brooklyn or take on the two Jewish boys who will room with me and find that perfect apartment downtown. The only reasonable options are in the Financial District since we refuse to pay a broker's fee.
I found it fortuitous that when I opened my mailbox yesterday to find the latest issue of Time Out New York, incidentally it is their annual Apartment Search edition. I think that's a sign that my broker fee free dream apartment is out there. Already feeling frustrated with the search.
To buck this and other stigmas of becoming generic, the move is imminent.
I was scheduled to take the big step to solo living but after looking at rent prices and my closet--I realized that it's a no go in Manhattan. I'm either going to have to suck it up and move to (gasp!) Brooklyn or take on the two Jewish boys who will room with me and find that perfect apartment downtown. The only reasonable options are in the Financial District since we refuse to pay a broker's fee.
I found it fortuitous that when I opened my mailbox yesterday to find the latest issue of Time Out New York, incidentally it is their annual Apartment Search edition. I think that's a sign that my broker fee free dream apartment is out there. Already feeling frustrated with the search.
6-month Itch
I've said this before and I'll say it again...I have NO staying power.
I can get jobs--after many jobs, I realize this--but for the life of me I cannot hold onto them.
As challenging and enjoyable as my job is at the German Bank, I'm bored. Bored with this office. Bored with my commute. Bored with my work outfits. Bored with my desk. Bored with my colleagues. Bored!
Looking back at my short time in the workforce, I have NEVER lasted more than 6 months at a job. I either switch roles at the firm or switch firms altogether. It's getting to be that time of year again...a headhunter called and I'm a going to see what he has to offer. It's a VP position, so I'm pretty sure I can't smooth talk my way into the 7 years of experience I don't have, but we won't know for SURE till we give it the old college try.
"What it is...and what it will be!"
--Mr. Bones (Snoop Dogg)
I can get jobs--after many jobs, I realize this--but for the life of me I cannot hold onto them.
As challenging and enjoyable as my job is at the German Bank, I'm bored. Bored with this office. Bored with my commute. Bored with my work outfits. Bored with my desk. Bored with my colleagues. Bored!
Looking back at my short time in the workforce, I have NEVER lasted more than 6 months at a job. I either switch roles at the firm or switch firms altogether. It's getting to be that time of year again...a headhunter called and I'm a going to see what he has to offer. It's a VP position, so I'm pretty sure I can't smooth talk my way into the 7 years of experience I don't have, but we won't know for SURE till we give it the old college try.
"What it is...and what it will be!"
--Mr. Bones (Snoop Dogg)
Past Tense
I had two old friends get in touch this week.
One was my best friend in college and the other my first "work" friend (She was the first friend I make in a work context back in my ambulance chaser attorney assisting days).
Both were encountering problems. One is done and the other is in the midst of a break-up. In a weird way, I envy the drama. It's been so long since I cared about anyone. So long since a man wasn't expendable. So long since I looked forward to talking to a guy that wasn't a friend. By so long, I mean a year.
A year is a long time.
One was my best friend in college and the other my first "work" friend (She was the first friend I make in a work context back in my ambulance chaser attorney assisting days).
Both were encountering problems. One is done and the other is in the midst of a break-up. In a weird way, I envy the drama. It's been so long since I cared about anyone. So long since a man wasn't expendable. So long since I looked forward to talking to a guy that wasn't a friend. By so long, I mean a year.
A year is a long time.
Why a Cat would Kill Luckey!
See this is my qualm with cats...crazy beasts!
Suffice to say I am NOT a cat person. A work pal sent this to me--cracked me up.
April 24, 2006
An Ode to Bessie
Helen's car passed on last week. When she wrote to inform me, this is how I responded
An Ode to Bessie
I'll never forget
how we used to jet
all over Summit,
blastin' the latest hit!
Cypress Hill was a fave.
Then again, so was Dave!
Many bargains were made
with Hells Bells to parade
How I'll miss Bessie
She was never messy
Helen kept her like new
She was one of our crew.
Rest in peace, Bessie girl!
Long live the summers of our lives--shared and otherwise.
An Ode to Bessie
I'll never forget
how we used to jet
all over Summit,
blastin' the latest hit!
Cypress Hill was a fave.
Then again, so was Dave!
Many bargains were made
with Hells Bells to parade
How I'll miss Bessie
She was never messy
Helen kept her like new
She was one of our crew.
Rest in peace, Bessie girl!
Long live the summers of our lives--shared and otherwise.
Pot Shot
Norman was in town late last week, interviewing at some prestigious law firms. He has the tough decision of choosing which firm to ally himself with. Brand loyalty aside-the firm he interned with last summer--his dream firm which may in fact be as elusive as Harvard and another top-notch option. He crashed with me on Friday night and headed back to Summit to stay with the family on Saturday night.
During his short time with me...he doted on my dog, regaled me with stories and focused his energy on the choice at hand. Tommy and Special K joined us out with a pit stop at Ike's--Norman's law school buddy who he insists is straight but Lord knows I've never met a cattier Queen--for some 420. The puff puff pass made one go around before Ike got antsy and we headed out. Net effect=0.
Ike then proceeded to skip my recommended Butter stop--whence Norman could spend his $50 dinner allowance on some drinks--saying he didn't want to walk down St. Marks. Why the hell not? Why live in the village if you're going to frown on St. Marks? I mean that's like living on 45th and 8th Ave. and whining about Times Square. Boo.
We made it to the Hibernian Swift Lounge for 1/8 of a minute and promptly made our way to Cooper 35 where we sat in the chilly evening wind chugging $4 drinks to warm up. Norman's loyalty returned and he returned to the Lounge to Ike. Gary had joined us at this point and I felt comfortable ducking out of what I felt no obligation to join--IKE! We popped next door to B Bar instead.
When Norman attempted to maintain dual loyalty he was foiled. The bouncer at B Bar wasn't about to let in a pack of younger guys on a busy Friday night, so Ike and crew vanished with Norman in tow. It's hard to be a good guy. Norman keeps on trying and there's merit in that.
I learned long ago that nice girls are boring--and I sure ain't boring
During his short time with me...he doted on my dog, regaled me with stories and focused his energy on the choice at hand. Tommy and Special K joined us out with a pit stop at Ike's--Norman's law school buddy who he insists is straight but Lord knows I've never met a cattier Queen--for some 420. The puff puff pass made one go around before Ike got antsy and we headed out. Net effect=0.
Ike then proceeded to skip my recommended Butter stop--whence Norman could spend his $50 dinner allowance on some drinks--saying he didn't want to walk down St. Marks. Why the hell not? Why live in the village if you're going to frown on St. Marks? I mean that's like living on 45th and 8th Ave. and whining about Times Square. Boo.
We made it to the Hibernian Swift Lounge for 1/8 of a minute and promptly made our way to Cooper 35 where we sat in the chilly evening wind chugging $4 drinks to warm up. Norman's loyalty returned and he returned to the Lounge to Ike. Gary had joined us at this point and I felt comfortable ducking out of what I felt no obligation to join--IKE! We popped next door to B Bar instead.
When Norman attempted to maintain dual loyalty he was foiled. The bouncer at B Bar wasn't about to let in a pack of younger guys on a busy Friday night, so Ike and crew vanished with Norman in tow. It's hard to be a good guy. Norman keeps on trying and there's merit in that.
I learned long ago that nice girls are boring--and I sure ain't boring
Prime Real Estate
$6000 for a floor-through four bedroom apartment in Midtown East featuring a built-in-bar, recessed lighting, massive living room and two bathrooms with private access to the roof and no neighbors--since the floor is above commercial space and features skylights in multiple rooms. The aparment made me cream and dream! (Tracey--please pick up on the reference to the adorable gelateria in Prague).
This was the venue of the party I attended saturday night hosted by a PIKE brother turned Lehman Brother. The place was packed. The music was loud. The drinks were strong. The girls were young. The boys were finance types with CT style and Westchester attitude. There was porn projected on a wall in the "big bedroom".
The shindig was a 17-year-old's wet dream.
I had fun. Fun in the way a frat party is fun. Gary, his friend Shaun, Tommy, his big sis, and I clustered in a corner watching bad dancers shake-a-leg. The weather was atrocious. Our primary goal in attending this event was the promise of a projector on a roof with refreshments to boot. The purpose was lost due to inclement weather conditions. TSK.
The bar was a mess when we arrived and no one was manning it. Thankfully, an Indian boy who used to live there ushered me behind it and showed me where the good liquor lived...a few shots of the top shelf later, I was enjoying myself a whole lot more and so was my crew.
This was the venue of the party I attended saturday night hosted by a PIKE brother turned Lehman Brother. The place was packed. The music was loud. The drinks were strong. The girls were young. The boys were finance types with CT style and Westchester attitude. There was porn projected on a wall in the "big bedroom".
The shindig was a 17-year-old's wet dream.
I had fun. Fun in the way a frat party is fun. Gary, his friend Shaun, Tommy, his big sis, and I clustered in a corner watching bad dancers shake-a-leg. The weather was atrocious. Our primary goal in attending this event was the promise of a projector on a roof with refreshments to boot. The purpose was lost due to inclement weather conditions. TSK.
The bar was a mess when we arrived and no one was manning it. Thankfully, an Indian boy who used to live there ushered me behind it and showed me where the good liquor lived...a few shots of the top shelf later, I was enjoying myself a whole lot more and so was my crew.
Cell Phone Debacle
While I am the antithesis of Blanche DuBois as I grow older I realize that I depend more and more on the kindess of strangers.
Case and point: Saturday night (3am Sunday) I left my cell phone in a cab. The last time this happened was 3 years ago when I lived in Midtown and Ditha with Tracey had insisted it could be retrieved and found a way to make it happen as I stood mutely by--paralyzed in my hour of phone distress.
I wouldn't have even realized my phone was lost if the cabbie hadn't dialed the last number I had dialed whilst in his cab. I was comfortably resposing on Jaylin's couch, when my cell phone called him--Nelly's Ride Wit Me began blastin'--and we both looked on mystified. After repeated dial backs, the cabbie was finally attained on my phone. He said he'd drop my phone off at "the deli". Jaylin assumed this to be the 92nd St. Deli. I assumed no such thing. The cab driver had deposited me at 92nd and 1st, why would he assume that the deli on 2nd Ave. would be the best bet? Last count there were a zillion delis in Manhattan, how were we to find THIS deli.
The following day, circa 2pm when we finally crawled out of bed, bleary eyed and lazy Jaylin insisted the 92nd St. Deli--which he frequents for cigarettes and sandwiches--had my phone. I was less convinced. I'm a doubting Thomas to say the least and I balk at altruism. This said, I was hopeful because he exuded confidence in the matter--after all the cabbie had called, he stood nothing to gain by keeping my phone. When we arrived at the deli, no phone was in sight. The day guy called the night guy and NO--my phone was not at the 92nd St. Deli.
Quick as I usually am to give up--ask Ditha or Trace, I live a life of replacement...you won't find me on my hands and knees if there is a possibility of replacing the dropped item--I suggested we check at one of the two deli..s between 91st and 92nd St. on 1st Ave. We hit the jackpot at Blue Moon Deli. The owner interrogated me thus: What is your name? What type of phone do you have? What is your phone number? Who is your service provider?
Once I had passed his line of questioning he said, "I have a T-Mobile phone. You say your phone is Verizon?" I was stunned...after all this, the man didn't even HAVE my phone. BOO.
Well, Jaylin asked and I insisted that we get a look at the phone. Lo and behold, it WAS my phone. The man's eyes had deceived him--it was a verizon LG phone with a Luckey picture on the inside. YAY! Sweet Success!
Jaylin marveled at my persistence. I must say, I marveled at the fact that the cabbie to the deli to me, my phone had made it through the night. Unsure of the etiquette on tipping the guy and since I had a meager $10 in my wallet, I skipped out without giving him a dime, but I will go back to the deli for my purchasing needs, ignoring the 5 deli..s I pass as I walk to this one to repay a debt money can only begin to cover.
The annoying part of losing a phone lacking a SIM card is having to input all those numbers that get lost with it.
Case and point: Saturday night (3am Sunday) I left my cell phone in a cab. The last time this happened was 3 years ago when I lived in Midtown and Ditha with Tracey had insisted it could be retrieved and found a way to make it happen as I stood mutely by--paralyzed in my hour of phone distress.
I wouldn't have even realized my phone was lost if the cabbie hadn't dialed the last number I had dialed whilst in his cab. I was comfortably resposing on Jaylin's couch, when my cell phone called him--Nelly's Ride Wit Me began blastin'--and we both looked on mystified. After repeated dial backs, the cabbie was finally attained on my phone. He said he'd drop my phone off at "the deli". Jaylin assumed this to be the 92nd St. Deli. I assumed no such thing. The cab driver had deposited me at 92nd and 1st, why would he assume that the deli on 2nd Ave. would be the best bet? Last count there were a zillion delis in Manhattan, how were we to find THIS deli.
The following day, circa 2pm when we finally crawled out of bed, bleary eyed and lazy Jaylin insisted the 92nd St. Deli--which he frequents for cigarettes and sandwiches--had my phone. I was less convinced. I'm a doubting Thomas to say the least and I balk at altruism. This said, I was hopeful because he exuded confidence in the matter--after all the cabbie had called, he stood nothing to gain by keeping my phone. When we arrived at the deli, no phone was in sight. The day guy called the night guy and NO--my phone was not at the 92nd St. Deli.
Quick as I usually am to give up--ask Ditha or Trace, I live a life of replacement...you won't find me on my hands and knees if there is a possibility of replacing the dropped item--I suggested we check at one of the two deli..s between 91st and 92nd St. on 1st Ave. We hit the jackpot at Blue Moon Deli. The owner interrogated me thus: What is your name? What type of phone do you have? What is your phone number? Who is your service provider?
Once I had passed his line of questioning he said, "I have a T-Mobile phone. You say your phone is Verizon?" I was stunned...after all this, the man didn't even HAVE my phone. BOO.
Well, Jaylin asked and I insisted that we get a look at the phone. Lo and behold, it WAS my phone. The man's eyes had deceived him--it was a verizon LG phone with a Luckey picture on the inside. YAY! Sweet Success!
Jaylin marveled at my persistence. I must say, I marveled at the fact that the cabbie to the deli to me, my phone had made it through the night. Unsure of the etiquette on tipping the guy and since I had a meager $10 in my wallet, I skipped out without giving him a dime, but I will go back to the deli for my purchasing needs, ignoring the 5 deli..s I pass as I walk to this one to repay a debt money can only begin to cover.
The annoying part of losing a phone lacking a SIM card is having to input all those numbers that get lost with it.
April 21, 2006
2 months till Summer
In two short months the Summer of '06 will commence.
This summer I vow to
Play Tennis with strangers
Hit the Hamptons with Karen and Special K
Tour Amsterdam with Tom
Take that trip to The Cloisters with Tracey
Dance in the streets when it rains
Drink outdoors--sip sangria and suck down margaritas and mojitos
Actually wrap up my incompletes at SCHOOL.
Walk Luckey in the Park
Watch movies on roofs--starting tomorrow!
MOVE downtown!!!!!!
This summer I vow to
Play Tennis with strangers
Hit the Hamptons with Karen and Special K
Tour Amsterdam with Tom
Take that trip to The Cloisters with Tracey
Dance in the streets when it rains
Drink outdoors--sip sangria and suck down margaritas and mojitos
Actually wrap up my incompletes at SCHOOL.
Walk Luckey in the Park
Watch movies on roofs--starting tomorrow!
MOVE downtown!!!!!!
4:20pm on 4/20
Passed without event...I texted Tommy and that was the extent of the celebration.
Incidentally my 20-year-old ex-NYU student, now full-tim dealer texted me this morning to ask if I had been dealt.
Ah...life!
Incidentally my 20-year-old ex-NYU student, now full-tim dealer texted me this morning to ask if I had been dealt.
Ah...life!
April 19, 2006
Walk by Shooting
As I ran out for my morning Venti Skim Chai (that's right people! I've made the switch to TEA...and SKIM milk. Next up, a curry-free lifestyle), a photographer-type was shooting pedestrians rising from the fumes of the 2/3 stop at Wall St.
I assumed he was:
a) an artsy tourist
b) a poser New Yorker
c) an aspiring free lancer, hoping to hawk his wares to a two-bit rag.
d) a guy with too much free time and a bangin' camera
Turns out I was completely off base...as I walked by him he shot my legs mid-swing in black, jersey cotton gaucho pants. I stopped and turned immediately to interrogate the use of said photo. He automatically reached for the badge dangling from his neck to showcase that he was press. He was shooting some lifestyle shots on spec. This doesn't help!
How will I know where I can direct people to see my walking feet?
I assumed he was:
a) an artsy tourist
b) a poser New Yorker
c) an aspiring free lancer, hoping to hawk his wares to a two-bit rag.
d) a guy with too much free time and a bangin' camera
Turns out I was completely off base...as I walked by him he shot my legs mid-swing in black, jersey cotton gaucho pants. I stopped and turned immediately to interrogate the use of said photo. He automatically reached for the badge dangling from his neck to showcase that he was press. He was shooting some lifestyle shots on spec. This doesn't help!
How will I know where I can direct people to see my walking feet?
Have I been her?
As I was meandering to the 6-train this morning there was a woman in a sheer black dress steps ahead of me. I could CLEARLY see (well past outline) her black, lace thong through her outfit. Tempted as I was to inform her of the lack of coverage and insist that she install serious lighting in the vicinity of her full-length mirror, I said nothing. The attractive, white-headphoned gentleman inches ahead of me smiled and enjoyed the view. She was an attractive woman with well-crafted hind parts. Going to the gym was paying off..I wasn't going to rain on her parade.
It made me wonder--how often have I left home revealing more than I realized...
Adhere as I don't to the subway slogan: "If you see something, say something!" My day goes on.
It made me wonder--how often have I left home revealing more than I realized...
Adhere as I don't to the subway slogan: "If you see something, say something!" My day goes on.
25.5
Yesterday was my half-birthday.
Today I am closer to 26 than 25....still mid-20s but one step closer to the late.
I had an ex-boyfriend inform me that 1/2 birthdays were not "real events". Suffice to say this is a large part of why this particular boyfriend finds himself in the x-stack, but I disagree. Vehemently.
If my birthday is a monumental event, then a half birthday is half of said monument.
Today I am closer to 26 than 25....still mid-20s but one step closer to the late.
I had an ex-boyfriend inform me that 1/2 birthdays were not "real events". Suffice to say this is a large part of why this particular boyfriend finds himself in the x-stack, but I disagree. Vehemently.
If my birthday is a monumental event, then a half birthday is half of said monument.
April 17, 2006
Tracey Tour
Tracey joined me for a Friday o' Fun.
I always forget how much fun you can have without drinking till I hang out with Trace. We had a blast--rain not withstanding, though I firmly believe that it brought my recovery to a standstill.
We had soup dumplings in Chinatown--she put aside her aversion to pork for two seconds to suck up the soupy goodness. I insisted on some bubble tea to which Tracey raised me a peach green tea. She LOVES green tea. After a brief amble which included the spotting and photographing of a bucket of live frogs being sold by the pound, we sat at an outdoor cafe under a rainy awning in Little Italy. Tracey indulged in a "decadent" tiramisu which resulted in the "shakes and giggles".
We discussed seriously the topic of Tracey's first pedicure--freaked as she is by feet. Hers in particular with generous dosages of shuddering at the thought of them being touched by others--strangers! I think I've talked her into it. A mani-pedi session will be our next adventure.
Keep in mind, Tracey is the girl that spent $69 on white, Italian leather flip-flops in Chinatown. She balks at $20 for a mani-pedi.
Adage: Penny wise and pound foolish, much?
I always forget how much fun you can have without drinking till I hang out with Trace. We had a blast--rain not withstanding, though I firmly believe that it brought my recovery to a standstill.
We had soup dumplings in Chinatown--she put aside her aversion to pork for two seconds to suck up the soupy goodness. I insisted on some bubble tea to which Tracey raised me a peach green tea. She LOVES green tea. After a brief amble which included the spotting and photographing of a bucket of live frogs being sold by the pound, we sat at an outdoor cafe under a rainy awning in Little Italy. Tracey indulged in a "decadent" tiramisu which resulted in the "shakes and giggles".
We discussed seriously the topic of Tracey's first pedicure--freaked as she is by feet. Hers in particular with generous dosages of shuddering at the thought of them being touched by others--strangers! I think I've talked her into it. A mani-pedi session will be our next adventure.
Keep in mind, Tracey is the girl that spent $69 on white, Italian leather flip-flops in Chinatown. She balks at $20 for a mani-pedi.
Adage: Penny wise and pound foolish, much?
Canadia
My Canadian med student pal and his girlfriend were in town this weekend with their third wheel in tow. Tommy and I dragged them to The Big Easy for beer pong in our sick and illness-induced sedated states.
Our combined effort at dazzling them with New York was measley, but we had a good excuse. We're SICK!
Our combined effort at dazzling them with New York was measley, but we had a good excuse. We're SICK!
Jaylin Jive
The great thing about Jaylin is that he cannot hurt me.
He's a 43-year old man in full blown mid-life crisis.
I'd forgotten how badly he wants a wife.
How he dreams of building a compound in lower westchester with a gate around his parents, brother with future sister-in-law, and a nuclear family of his own.
How much he talks about money without actually spending any of it.
Just how much he adores his family and values their place in his life. How he pushes for me to meet his parents.
How easily he laughs at my jokes. How quick he is to be impressed with my ideas.
He's a good guy...but SO not my guy. It's incredible how happy he would make some other girl--ANY other girl.
At this point in my life, there is no one else to spend those quality Joey-Dawson moments with in bed: side by side but not touching, palms facing the ceiling talking about his dreams.
He's a 43-year old man in full blown mid-life crisis.
I'd forgotten how badly he wants a wife.
How he dreams of building a compound in lower westchester with a gate around his parents, brother with future sister-in-law, and a nuclear family of his own.
How much he talks about money without actually spending any of it.
Just how much he adores his family and values their place in his life. How he pushes for me to meet his parents.
How easily he laughs at my jokes. How quick he is to be impressed with my ideas.
He's a good guy...but SO not my guy. It's incredible how happy he would make some other girl--ANY other girl.
At this point in my life, there is no one else to spend those quality Joey-Dawson moments with in bed: side by side but not touching, palms facing the ceiling talking about his dreams.
Garden of Aidan
Dr. Aidan and I embarked on our second date on Sunday to my brunch spot--Sushi Samba 7. I am a regular...which was apparent from the cordial greeting and prompt recollection of my office phone number sans reservation.
Due to my frequent invitation of guests to this venue, Gary and a female friend were in the audience...which was apparent from a text he sent me: "Nice white sweater!"
Instead of freaking out, I merely turned for a beauty queen wave in his direction.
Aidan and I ambled about the village and made our way to the east side, where bubble tea had to be had--he actualy LIKES it--bubbles and all. Delight.
He insisted we walk by Gramercy Park--fortuitous! Just as we were passing the keyed entrance an elderly chap was making his way in via walker. In his doctorly way, Aidan held the door and ushered me in.
The privacy of the park combined with the elitism of only entering with a key (you get a key by living in one of the select buildings surrounding the park itself) made for romantic bench time. The glorious weather and frolicking squirrels set the tone of an Elysian field in the middle of Manhattan.
Sick as I was I refused my communicable disease admission to the kingdom of Aidan--much to his chagrin and protest.
Some choice compliments from him to me were as follows:
"I like your body!"
"What...no, you're totally THIN!"
"Aw...you have such an adorable voice"
As we walked up Park Ave into Murray Hill...we passed none other than i-banker circa 2003. How the past can run into you! Thankfully other than an initial, nondescript look back, he kept walking....later when I called banker boy as I rode the 3rd Ave. bus uptown he asked "Did I just see you walking up Park Ave.?" as if he could possibly NOt have recognized me. I know I'll never forget that polyester, white hoodie with black piping...a wolf in sheep's clothing personified.
Aidan was none the wiser...making me promise him face-time later this week. He's headed to Boston to claim his stake in the brownstone pie.
Woody Allen voice aside...what if I really start to like him?
Due to my frequent invitation of guests to this venue, Gary and a female friend were in the audience...which was apparent from a text he sent me: "Nice white sweater!"
Instead of freaking out, I merely turned for a beauty queen wave in his direction.
Aidan and I ambled about the village and made our way to the east side, where bubble tea had to be had--he actualy LIKES it--bubbles and all. Delight.
He insisted we walk by Gramercy Park--fortuitous! Just as we were passing the keyed entrance an elderly chap was making his way in via walker. In his doctorly way, Aidan held the door and ushered me in.
The privacy of the park combined with the elitism of only entering with a key (you get a key by living in one of the select buildings surrounding the park itself) made for romantic bench time. The glorious weather and frolicking squirrels set the tone of an Elysian field in the middle of Manhattan.
Sick as I was I refused my communicable disease admission to the kingdom of Aidan--much to his chagrin and protest.
Some choice compliments from him to me were as follows:
"I like your body!"
"What...no, you're totally THIN!"
"Aw...you have such an adorable voice"
As we walked up Park Ave into Murray Hill...we passed none other than i-banker circa 2003. How the past can run into you! Thankfully other than an initial, nondescript look back, he kept walking....later when I called banker boy as I rode the 3rd Ave. bus uptown he asked "Did I just see you walking up Park Ave.?" as if he could possibly NOt have recognized me. I know I'll never forget that polyester, white hoodie with black piping...a wolf in sheep's clothing personified.
Aidan was none the wiser...making me promise him face-time later this week. He's headed to Boston to claim his stake in the brownstone pie.
Woody Allen voice aside...what if I really start to like him?
April 13, 2006
Jaylin's Back
As the cab snaked up 3rd Ave. the driver made an arbitrary decision to swerve off and head up 1st Ave. Traffic!
It gave me an idea to pop in and surprise Jaylin. I haven't seen or spoken to him since "the big tiff" before Thanksgiving...but knowing he wouldn't protest, I just appeared at his doorstep unannounced. He was delighted to see me.
The instant compliment, "Hmm...your face has gotten so much smaller, I almost didn't recognize you!" won him some points and the forgotten reality that he has a large deck attached to his 2nd storey apartment warmed me further. The immediate selection of WB11 re-runs of Sex and the City (with no prompting from me) on his 52-inch TV was the icing on my cake of regression. We're back, baby!
He walked me home, smoking a cigarette along the way and kissed me gently on the forehead. I'd forgotten how nice it was--familiarity. He told me my hair looked shiny and I had a walk--a walk that made a man want to follow closely behind.
I miss V.
Lesson Learned: I'm a sucker for a suck-up!
It gave me an idea to pop in and surprise Jaylin. I haven't seen or spoken to him since "the big tiff" before Thanksgiving...but knowing he wouldn't protest, I just appeared at his doorstep unannounced. He was delighted to see me.
The instant compliment, "Hmm...your face has gotten so much smaller, I almost didn't recognize you!" won him some points and the forgotten reality that he has a large deck attached to his 2nd storey apartment warmed me further. The immediate selection of WB11 re-runs of Sex and the City (with no prompting from me) on his 52-inch TV was the icing on my cake of regression. We're back, baby!
He walked me home, smoking a cigarette along the way and kissed me gently on the forehead. I'd forgotten how nice it was--familiarity. He told me my hair looked shiny and I had a walk--a walk that made a man want to follow closely behind.
I miss V.
Lesson Learned: I'm a sucker for a suck-up!
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