The Virginity Monologues

I still think about Him. I still wonder what happened and why he didn't call. I found myself telling the story of him to my good friend last night. I said that of anyone on this earth, he's the one I would most want to be with (besides Derek Jeter, of course). Why don't the nice guys call?

I am having a moral dilemma. My favorite band in the whole world is U2. I have seen them in concert 4 times, and have tickets to see them again in October. That's right. U2 at Madison Square Garden. I have 2 tickets. I have held out on offering the second ticket to anyone, because I wanted to find someone worthy. I want to go with someone who can sing along to every song with me. U2 concerts are religious experiences for me, and it's important to me that I be with someone who feels similarly. Every other concert, I have been with my long-time best friend, that is no longer my best friend, after certain incidents in Ireland. She got it. Due to a lack of any true U2 fans in my life, I offered the ticket to my current best friend, even though she is not a fan at the level that I would prefer. I know I'll have a good time with her. We were just chatting and I mentioned how much I love the song- Running to Stand Still (Randy was listening to it). She said, "I don't know that song." She doesn't know one of the best songs off of what is arguably their best and most famous album. I don't know if I can take her. I understand when people don't know obscure songs off of say- Boy or War, but THE JOSHUA TREE? I'm horrified. I don't know what to do.

Many months ago, I spoke frequently of Gym Boy. Due to other distractions and the fact that I rarely go to the gym by my apartment anymore, he's been a little neglected. But never forgotten. I would see him occasionally when circumstances permitted me to go to 'our' gym, but I had other men on my mind, and wasn't interested in making life more complicated than it needed to be.

Last night was Harlem Gym Night. I always wonder if I'll see him, but it's not the reason I go there. As I walked out of the girls locker room, he was standing on a machine directly in front of the me. Our eyes LOCKED. Like some invisible string was pulling us together and neither one of us could turn away. My mind raced- should I smile? should I wink? what do I do? Inevitably, I did what I always do, nothing. Because I am a chicken. I turned and headed for cardio and he went back to his manly weight-lifting and we continued to play 'the game' all night. Sneaky looks. He would come and talk to people standing near me. Crossing the gym to go the water fountain closer to the other person. Etc, etc.

This is getting ridiculous. It's been going on for 6 months.

Isn't it time that someone made a move? Should I just walk up to him, give him my number and say, "When you're ready to do more than look......"?

I never talk to anyone at the gym. I'm worried that I come across as a total bitch because I totally keep to myself. But, despite all evidence to the contrary, I'm kind of shy and get all nervous about talking to people I don't really know. Especially where I am so clearly in the minority. I bet he thinks I'm a bitch. I'm gonna have to get friendlier.

The emailing with my former flame continues. I don't know what he wants. I never could figure out what he wanted. It was the general consensus that he was interested, I mean- how many men will email a girl 10-20 times a day that he's not interested in (maybe more than I thought, but I don't know), but he never did ANYTHING about it. The whole scenario has been one giant puzzle to me from the beginning. I'm trying really hard not to get excited or get my hopes up about this. But after the Great Exorcism, men to be interested in has been few and far between, especially after I met The Girlfriend of Mr. Wrong on Friday, that was awesome! I mean, I was forced to dream about 50 Cent before going to sleep last night, cause I couldn't think of anyone else! So, his sudden reappearance is filling a void. That I don't really want him in.

I need a deciphering code for his behavior. I've never understood a man less.

I'm not telling any exciting stories from the weekend, because there aren't any. The host at Serendipity flirted with me, but it's hard to get worked up about that, because I'm sure that they flirt with every cute girl who walks in that place.

So, I think it's safe to say that we've established that there are/have been a lot of men in my life. Most of them come and go, make me a little more jaded and cynical along the way, but we all move on. One of the ones that got away, just came swimming back.

We used to work together. We emailed each other for work purposes, that would turn into flirty back and forth emails. When I moved to a new department in a new building, I thought it would end. Not so much. The emailing continued, just without the hindrance of anything work related. The Christmas party- we spent almost the entire night by each other's side. We went out a couple of times. Played pool. Went to a movie. Sat close to each other in the back of a cab once. Nothing ever happened. I was not very aggressive and I was a virgin and didn't ever want him to know that. But I still obsessed about him constantly. Besides Derek Jeter, he has been the object of more of my sexual fantasies than any other man alive. He quit and moved to a new company. I definitely thought that was the end of us. Not even. The emailing reached a 10-20 times a day frenzy. Seriously. Then, it sort of petered out. I never knew what happened. He just stopped returning emails.

After months of silence, I got an email today. 3 total, so far. Where did this come from? My best friend thinks he must have been dating someone and they recently broke up. I don't know. But how do I make it not end this time?

Labels: Email Boy

Sorry, kids, the spam commenters have found me. I've had to delete a lot of those dumb comments today. Ticks me off.

And so, I've been forced to restrict commenting to registered users. My apologies!

I am a mess! A total mess! I'm smack in the middle of about a million different crises. A friend is going through a weird stalker situation, so I'm staying with her for a few days. I'm smack in the middle of a major financial disaster thanks to major errors by my bank and my landlord. Awesome. Work is kicking my ass. Royally. At the end of every day, I feel as though a very large vacuum has attached itself to an orifice on my body and sucked every single drop of energy out. And all I've wanted is someone, a bad-for-me-in-every-way someone, to just put his arms around me and make all the bad stuff go away. If even for a few minutes.

Last night I was at a friend's house, exhausted, beat, praying for death. I hate her stairs. Last night on my way out, I fell down them, again. Seriously banged up my right arm. I picked up my phone to call my best friend to tell her of my stair woes, on the long haul to the subway, and there was a text message. From him. Mr. Wrong-but-so-wishing-he-were-right. Don't be confused. I'm in love with 2 men. One is great and wonderful and respectful and will never date me. The other is none of the above and is constantly trying to get in my pants. Mr. Wrong wanted to know where I was, what I was doing and if he could come. I didn't answer. I went down into the subway. By the time I got out, he had given up and gone home to Brooklyn. I needed to say no. I've never wanted to say yes more. Did I mention that he has really nice arms? Fantastic arms. I've seen him do push-ups. I think I orgasmed on the spot. I honestly thought that everything in life would be better if I could have just spent 10 minutes in those arms. I went to my friends house, waited for her to get home from work, watched Love Actually, ate french fries and cried. I blame the tears on The Pill. But the french fries? All him.

Labels: Mr. Wrong

So, a few weeks ago, I referenced my perfect man personified right? Him and his girlfriend are officially broken up and have been for a while now. Him and I are good friends. Yesterday, I had an extra ticket to a Yankee game, I emailed him and asked him if he wanted to go, as nothing more than a friend gesture. I was very, very nervous. He couldn't go, he had to work late. But, did I want to meet him up for some ice cream after the game? HELL YEAH. Now, I'm not stupid. I didn't have any expectations. I knew better, but a girl can dream, can't she? We met up, we had ice cream, he called me 'sweetie'. Nothing earth-shaking. But I was reminded that there really are guys that aren't just looking to get laid. There are men with good hearts and who will treat women with respect. We spoke a little about his ex, and I was outrageously impressed with how he was handling the situation and how he only had the kindest of things to say about her. These are the things that I like to be reminded of. They give me faith.

The subway ride home, I sat across from this beautiful man. We played that game- where you look at the other person until they look at you and then you look away as quickly as possible. I got off at my stop and he watched me out the window as the train pulled away. From here on out, I'm giving my phone number. I've been regreting not doing that every second since I walked away.

And now, I'm going to lay my head down on my desk and sleep for a year because I'm so damn tired.

So. I used to really like Grape Nuts. Until I started eating them everyday. Now, I want them to die a slow and painful death.

Last night, I was ranting to my roommates about the unfairness of the world. About how a situation completely beyond my control has just fucked me over financially. About how I can't get a respectable man to give me the time of day, but the non-respectable men will talk to me until they're blue in the face. I'm sorry, but if you're picking me up on the street, or McDonald's, you're not what I'm looking for! About no matter how much I run and work out, the scale continues to thwart me at every turn. I'm usually an extremely happy person. But I can't shake the current grumpiness. Running almost always makes me feel better. Last night it just gave me a headache.

Do you ever feel like you're at a crossroads? You're at a place where you can continue on, as you are, making stupid decisions and letting the basest desires be the deciding factor in your actions. Or, you can grow up. Be an adult. Make the choice to not sleep with someone because he's an asshole, despite his amazing body. I keep asking myself, do I really want to deny myself things that I really want, just because it's the more adult decision? Yes. Because, inevitably, I will hurt and being an adult recognizes this and heads off the hurt in advance by just not being stupid.

The guy that I'm secretly in love with? He called me on Friday night and wanted to know what I was doing. I was going to a housewarming party, and I told him so. He wanted to know if he could come. Sure, I said. He showed up, with 2 friends in tow. And then proceeded to ignore me the entire time! And flirted with other women all night long. The cherry on top- when he was leaving, and I was pissed at him, he thought he could make everything better by putting his arms around me and offering to go home with me. What did I say? Don't ever call me again. Get the fuck out of my face.

Everyone I know, hates this man. He's only good to me when it's just the two of us. People tell me over and over again- He's not good enough for you. How do I make myself believe it?

I'm wearing eyeshadow to work today because I have a lunch date and a dinner date. Please. Please let at least one of them treat me with respect. Please let them understand that I have a big and sensitive heart that can't handle being trampled on anymore. Please let me steel my heart against the jerks and the dogs of the world and finally put my trust in someone who actually deserves it.

Labels: Mr. Wrong

Updates Done in Red

1. I have the same birthday as Elvis Presley. I have always felt as if I had a connection with him.
2. I love Excel spreadsheets and creating formulas in them.
3. I am the luckiest girl in the whole world to have the job that I have.
4. I would, without hesitation, lay down my life for any one of my nieces or nephews.
5. I've had stitches 3 times- my chin, my right eyelid and my left index finger.
6. My favorite thing about black men is the contrast of my skin against theirs.
7. My religion believes in eternal life, I have always secretly hoped that God will make an exception for me and not make me live forever. I am no longer practicing this religion.
8. All my life, I wanted to be just like my older sister. Now, she wants to be like me.
9. I have an obsession with Kate Spade handbags and shoes.
10. There are at least 5 people that I refer to as my best friend.
11. I am an attention whore. I will purposely walk down the side of the street with more guys on it, to see what they'll say to me. Not really that true anymore.
12. I do not use the snooze button on my alarm. It irritates me. I once told a roommate that if she pushed the snooze button one more time, I was going to shove her alarm up her ass. No longer true, I snooze at least once.
13. There is a girl that I HATE because everytime I see her, she introduces herself to me as if we had not met 500 times previously. I never interact with this girl anymore.
14. I am secretly in love with a man who could not possibly be more wrong for me in every way. I had sex with his best friend to make him jealous and it didn't work. I hate this man now.
15. I hate my ex-boyfriend because he didn't fight for me. Even though I didn't fight for him.
16. I rode in an ambulance in Russia because I had fallen on the ice and thought my ankle was broken.
17. I have never smoked pot or done any drugs. I've never even had the desire to. I have smoked pot.
18. I think that my mom is the greatest person alive.
19. I hate cell phones clipped to belts or pockets. I think that it is unbearably tacky.
20. Everyday I wish that I was skinny, but I never will be because I can't stop eating pecan bars. And Dorito's.
21. I am afraid of giving blow-jobs because I fear that I am bad at them. I love giving blow jobs now that I am more confident in my abilities to give them.
22. My favorite thing about myself is my sense of humor and that people classify me as "funny".
23. I never want to leave New York City. Someday I want to be able to call myself a 'New Yorker'. I now call myself a 'New Yorker'.
24. I refuse to ever put a Britney Spears song on my iPod.
25. I hate having the same hair for long periods of time. I like to make my hair drastically different as much as possible.
26. I am very critical of the way that other people dress.
27. I have a wholesome and trusting face. Everyone tells me their secrets. People stop me and ask for directions constantly.
28. I love cheesy love songs.
29. My friends and I went to a psychic when we were in Atlantic City in February. She told me I would find love in the next year and that I would be married in 2 years. I believed her.
30. I am an insane animal lover. All animals. Including snakes.
31. My first tape was Billy Ocean, my first CD was U2- The Joshua Tree.
32. I don't know if I was really in love with my ex-boyfriend. Or if I've ever been in love at all.
33. In high school, I would do anything that anybody dared me to. I once drove home topless, which got messy when I got stuck in the middle of a huge construction site.
34. My favorite body part is my lips. Everyone else thinks it's my eyes.
35. The person that I consider to have been the best friend that I've ever had, hasn't spoken to me in 2 1/2 years. We've spoken in the last year. And he's no longer the best friend I've ever had.
36. I am terrible at doing accents or imitating other people.
37. I haven't done gymnastics in about 10 years and I can still do the splits.
38. I get manicures and pedicures regularly.
39. I am very affectionate.
40. I can spend hours talking about sex.
41. I LOATHE hiking. In my opinion, it's the most pointless activity, ever.
42. I use superlatives too much.
43. My biggest fear is that I will spend the rest of my life alone.
44. My favorite band in the whole world is U2. I once met Bono. I've seen them in concert 4 times and have tickets to see them again in October. I've seen them 5 times now.
45. I have never been my ideal weight.
46. I am deathly afraid of the dentist.
47. I like to give blood because I like to watch them stick the needle in my arm.
48. When I imagine being in heaven, I hope that I will be able to conjure up cheesecake at any time.
49. I was fearless when I was younger. I jumped off a high-dive when I was 3.
50. Outside of New York- Portland, OR and London are my favorite cities.
51. I love bubblegum.
52. I love to watch movies and read books because I love the escapism of them.
53. I hate the movie Reservoir Dogs. Only because of the scene where the cop gets his ear cut off. I still have nightmares about that.
54. First kisses make me really, really nervous.
55. I have a spectacularly sensitive stomach. Nervousness or just plain eating the wrong thing will make it revolt as if it were French.
56. I have no ability to discern between men who are genuinely interested in me and men who just want to sleep with me. DEFINITELY still true.
57. I love camping. My family went camping every summer when I was growing up. They are my favorite memories.
58. I want to have 3-4 kids. Eh. More like 2-3.
59. I am a total concert junkie. I figure I've spent over $1000 in my lifetime on concert tickets.
60. I will not set foot into Old Navy. My philosophy is that cheap clothes look cheap. I will buy some work-out clothes there now.
61. I'm afraid that I am guilty of all the things that I hate in other people.
62. I think that I can talk my way out of anything.
63. I get People magazine for free every week- I read it cover to cover.
64. I have about 10 different laughs. Only certain people have the ability to make me giggle.
65. I develop crushes way too easily.
66. I LOVE roller coasters, even though they make me sick.
67. When eating at restaurants, I will invariably choose something that is either crunchy or comes with french fries. Good friends can almost always predict what I will order.
68. I am a total sucker for a nice set of arms. I LOVE arms.
69. The rain makes me want to have sex.
70. No matter what happens with me and my religion, I will never stop believing in God.
71. I am addicted to hot chocolate and hot apple cider. I don't drink coffee, at all. I drink coffee. About 2-3 times a week.
72. My first kiss took place on April 20, 1992. I was 14. It was my best friend's older brother.
73. I have never broken a bone, but I have sprained both of my ankles multiple times.
74. I was on the 'D' basketball team in 6th grade. I was really bad.
75. If you ever can't find me, chances are very good that I am in the cafe at Barnes and Noble on 66th street, reading a book and drinking a hot chocolate with hazelnut in it. I used to go there so much that I happened to be there on the nights when some of my favorite authors were there (i.e. Dave Barry) and I got to meet them and have them autograph my books. I don't go there that often anymore. I never have time.
76. I own all four seasons of Felicity on DVD. I had never seen the first season before it was released. Before I saw it, I always rooted for Ben. Now that I've seen it, I think that she should have ended up with Noel.
77. My favorite drink is a White Russian, but I feel silly ordering it, so I always get a cranberry and vodka instead.
78. I wish I was more creative.
79. I can play the piano. I want to learn to play the guitar.
80. I cry easily. Especially at movies.
81. My fashion sense has improved 500% over the last year.
82. "I love you" are the hardest words for me to say.
83. I moved to New York because it's what I've wanted my whole life. For as long as I could remember, it was my dream to live in New York City. I moved here without a friend or a job, because I knew that I would always regret never chasing my biggest dream.
84. If I could do everything over, I would go to culinary school. I wish I was a great cook.
85. I had a cat for 13 years that used to sleep in my bed with me every night. My mom gave her away while I was in Russia. I still miss her and I still cry when I talk about her.
86. I feel like I have a book and a song inside of me, waiting to be written.
87. My most favorite movie is The Shawshank Redemption. I love Tim Robbins in that movie. I love Morgan Freeman talking about hope in the end. It always gives me goosebumps.
88. I like to stay late at work. It makes me feel like I'm important and indispensable.
89. I get upset when other people do not value friendships as much as I do. If a friend has completely ditched on me for a boyfriend, the chances are slim that I will take her back when they break up.
90. I believe in Love, The Real Thing.
91. My nails never get long. They always break.
92. I pretend to hate seeing people making out in public, but really, I am just jealous.
93. When I love someone, I give them my whole heart, without reserve. I can't do the half-love thing.
94. Nothing pisses me off more than being shushed.
95. I once went 2 full years without kissing anyone.
96. I drank alcohol for the first time when I was 14. My stepsister made me drink beer.
97. I have received oral sex twice. I have never enjoyed it. I have received oral sex many times. I love it.
98. I love the smell of gasoline.
99. My favorite adjective to be described as is- Amazing.
100. I lost my virginity on June 29, 2005. I was 27.

There was a man dancing on the subway this morning. At first I was abhorred, I mean, he had no rhythm, but I've been thinking a lot lately about how my first inclination is to always be critical and judgmental of people that veer from societal conventions. And I realized that maybe I should be admiring this man, for his willingness to put aside all cares and worries and let himself really get into his music. Do I ever let myself go that much? No. Not even when I've been drinking heavily. We're so weighed by our need to not rock the boat that I think that we often lose some of the greatest joys in life.

I talked on the phone last night to the man that I've been crazy about for a very long time. We have a complicated relationship, which has been semi-detailed on these pages. A lot of the complication arises from the fact that I have never been honest with him about anything. About my feelings for him, about why I chose him to lose my virginity to. Last night, I laid all my cards on the table. I told him pretty much everything. We talked for a long time, and laughed a lot. I've never felt more exposed and vulnerable and I've never been more in love with him. Where will we go from here? Nowhere, I'm sure. A real relationship isn't in the cards for us. But at least I stopped letting myself be governed by fear. It's all a part of my new embrace life program. Pretty soon, I'll be dancing on the subway.

Labels: Mr. Wrong

I just got a craving for the place that I went to college. When I left, 2 years ago, I swore that I would never return. That place is a homogenized mess. I spent way too many wasted years there, and I walked away with a mighty skip in my step. I got a smell today that reminded me of my favorite sandwich place there, and although I've always sworn that you can find anything in New York City, I don't know that there's any place that makes sandwiches as delicious these were. And out of nowhere, I wanted to be back there, eating that turkey on focaccia with the friends that I haven't seen in 2 years.

Maybe I've allowed myself only to remember the bad things. The men that never liked me, the judgemental remarks and the cookie cutter people. I've forgotten about the unique things that made it special- the drive up the canyon to go skiing, the movies for less than $10, my favorite sandwich shop, the endless camping opportunities, and even, some of the people.

Is this what growing up is? Realizing that maybe, all this time, you've been wrong?

Last night, one of my closest friends took the plunge and went to go see the guy that cuts my hair- who I RAVE about, and who is, by New York standards, fairly cheap. She was nervous- a new stylist is always a little nerve-wracking, so she dragged me along for moral support. 2 hours later, a different color hair for her and a quick bang cut for me, we were on our way to her house. Once at her house, we were immediately summoned to her next door neighbor's house. He is the most adorable human being alive. He's 5'8, black and has the nicest arms I've ever seen in my whole life. We all just sat and talked for hours, about anything and everything. He'll ask you anything, and in return will answer any question that you might have. He spent some quality time teaching me how to 'play the game'. It was interesting, and informative. I don't know if I'm ever going to get a handle on the hard-to-get persona though. I tend to be impatient (imagine that!) and when I want something, I have a hard time making myself wait to get it. It's a major character flaw, I recognize that and I'm working on it.

The Bouncer continues to call. I haven't picked up once. Maybe I should man-up about it and answer the phone and tell him that I don't want to see him anymore. Nah.

I had grape nuts with strawberries in it for breakfast this morning. It was delicious. And I worked out like a maniac last night. I discovered that if I eat a little bit right before I go to the gym, my ability to run is greatly enhanced. I should try this more often.

After the gym, my best friend and I headed to her mecca- Fairway (which is a sort of gourmet grocery store). We don't have good shopping strategy so we waste a lot of time going back and forth between produce and other departments. I ditched her while she was struggling with a decision in dairy to go get some turkey at the deli counter. The guy behind there was awfully flirty. Can I paint a picture of what I looked like? I had just ran 3+ miles, done about 35 minutes of additional cardio and some ab work. Almost my entire shirt had gotten wet from sweat. Yeah, that's hot shit. My hair was pulled back as tight as it could be, which never looks good on me, and I was still my gym clothes. Kids- it wasn't pretty. After the deli extravanganza, I found R in the breads, which can be seen from deli. As we were debating the merits of raisin pumpernickel, I heard the guys in the deli talking about me! Loud enough for me to hear. I turned around and looked at them, and they were huddled together, staring at my ass. As they realized that I had noticed them, one of them says to me, "Niiiiiiiice." BLEGH. Are you fucking kidding me? Are there women that this tactic works on? Not to mention, they must have unbearably low standards to have been impressed by me post-gym.

The Bouncer called 4 times yesterday. It's as if he KNOWS that I've decided to ditch him and thinks that putting forth effort will save his lazy ass. Well, he's too late! He already had too many chances.

I think I'm done with The Bouncer. I don't like his take-it-or-leave-it attitude where I'm concerned. I don't like it that he doesn't call when he says he's going to and even when I leave him a message stating my displeasure at his actions, it takes him 2 days to call. He should be working his ass off to earn me, and I feel like he's doing just enough to get by. This irritates me. And he's not intellectually my equal, so I think I'm just going to nip this in the bud now, instead of dragging it out just because I like to be with someone who's interested in me and I like kissing. It's not worth it. He doesn't make me laugh. What the fuck am I doing with this man?

I make amazing chocolate chip cookies. I proved this to my best friend and her roommates last night. I ate approximately 5,000 cookies. It was awesome.

I am an anxious girl. I feel stress acutely, directly in my stomach. Between the stresses of the imagined pregnancy and other issues, I have been a mess for the last couple of weeks. On my lunch break, I had a large issue finally resolved. An issue that had me laying awake until at least 2 am last night, unbearably tired, but unable to turn off the Worst Case Scenario cinema that is my brain. I wanted someone to talk to, to assure me that everything would be okay. But at 2 am, the only people talking were the voices in my head, and they are not comforting.

Tonight, I will sleep much better. And food will finally stay in my stomach.

Saturday night was another event-filled evening that would take days to fully tell the tale. I'll try to keep it brief with the highlights only.

1:30 a.m.- Me and Michelle at an Irish bar in the East Village doing shots with the adorable Irish bartenders.

2:00 a.m.- Michelle bails in the cab on the way to 40/40 to meet up with The Bouncer. Too many beers and not enough water had us both a little more tipsy than we prefer to be. Meet up with Bouncer who doesn't get off work until 4!

3:45 a.m.- Having tootled around the city for a couple of hours trying to occupy my time waiting for the Bouncer to get off work, I arrive back at 40/40, as the club is almost closing.

3:55 a.m.- A catfight breaks out right in front of me, and I somehow get caught up in the fracas. The boy next to me grabs my arm and pulls me outta there and around the corner, and begs me to let him take me to breakfast. Then he tried to kiss me. I was tempted, he did have really nice arms, but I managed to break away and head back to the club.

4:30 a.m.- The Bouncer is driving me home and I am falling asleep in the passenger seat.

5:00-5:30 a.m.- Me and The Bouncer are making out in his car in front of my building. Not bad for a first kiss. Not bad at all.

6:00 a.m.- I am finally asleep and my phone is ringing. The Bouncer wants to know if I'm asleep and what I'm wearing. :)

Sunday. I slept all day and barely left my house. Watched way too much TV and basically just day-dreamed about more kissing. Mmmmm.

There is a bowl of Starbursts sitting on my desk. They remind me of Mike, my junior year of high school boyfriend. Our first date we went to a play, but the play was TERRIBLE, so to amuse ourselves, we bought a package of Starbursts at intermission and then had a contest to see who could eat their Starbursts in the most bites. I don't even remember who won. Our relationship was a roller coaster, with a breakup and a teary reconciliation all added in the mix. Our high school tendency towards dramatization evened itself out eventually and we settled into a perfect, easy companionship. There was a moment with Mike, that will go down as one of the most perfect moments of my life history. We were on a walk, on the side of a hill with a gorgeous view- I told him that I loved him, he told me that he loved me. I thought we were going to be together forever and I didn't think it would ever be possible to love someone more. Fall brought a drastic change to our routine- he was starting college, I was still in high school. We couldn't make the new shift work. There were months of fighting and arguing and just not making enough time for each other. It was one of the hardest things that I've ever done, but I finally ended our suffering. He was killing me, I told him. I needed him to not be in my life anymore so that I could heal and move on. I needed to repair the heart that had broken into a million pieces and I needed to do it without him.

Months later, I was sitting in my living room, cuddling with a new boyfriend, who's big, green truck outside my house declared his presence. The front door opened and Mike walked in (my house was very informal, most people never bothered with knocking or doorbells). He claimed he had 'been in the neighborhood'. Not likely. He sat down and talked to us. I thought my heart would beat out of it's chest. New boyfriend and I were together for about 4-5 years, off and on. We would eventually be engaged for a brief period of time, before I realized that I was 21 and that getting married would ruin all my fun. But I would never forget Mike, and a part of me never stopped loving him.

All these memories- one little Starburst.

In My Opinion, the greatest songs of all time, each one has a backstory which would tell the entire story of my life-

Weezer- Only in Dreams, Undone (The Sweater Song)
Michael Jackson- Thriller
U2- One, Where the Streets Have No Name, Bad, Sunday Bloody Sunday, Running to Stand Still
Dave Matthews Band- Satellite, Crash
Soft Cell- Tainted Love
The Beach Boys- God Only Knows
Eagles- Hotel California
Ben Folds- The Luckiest
Cake- The Distance
Coldplay- The Scientist
Damien Rice- The Blower's Daughter
Def Leppard- Pour Some Sugar on Me
Dexy's Midnight Runners- Come on Eileen
Elvis Presley- Burning Love
Frank Sinatra- My Way, For Once in My Life
Green Day- Give Me Novocaine
Guster- Either Way
Hot Chocolate- You Sexy Thing
House of Pain- Jump Around
Inxs- Never Tear Us Apart
Jack Johnson- Cocoon
Jackson 5- I Want You Back
James- Out to Get You
Janis Joplin- Piece of My Heart
Jimmy Eat World- Kill
Kate Bush- This Woman's Work
Lil' Kim- How Many Licks
Madonna- Crazy for You
Mazzy Star- Fade into You
Nine Inch Nails- Something I Can Never Have
Notorious BIG- Hypnotize
Postal Service- Nothing Better
R.E.M.- Everybody Hurts, Night Swimming
Radiohead- Creep (preferably the acoustic version), Fake Plastic Trees, Exit Music
Rage Against the Machine- Bulls on Parade
The Ramones- Wanna Be Sedated (A drink for anyone who can tell why it was My So Called Life that made me love this song)
Simon and Garfunkel- The Only Living Boy in New York
Squeeze- Tempted
Stevie Wonder- Signed, Sealed, Delivered
Al Green- So Tired of Being Alone
The Thompson Twins- If You Were Here
Tracy Chapman- The Promise
Wham- Freedom
White Stripes- Seven Nation Army
Yaz- Only You
Buggles- Video Killed the Radio Star
G. Love and Special Sauce- Baby's Got Sauce
Bruce Springsteen- Born to Run
Aerosmith- Cryin
Beastie Boys- Sabotage
Pulp- Disco 2000
Joni Mitchell- Both Sides Now

This is after a quick stroll through my iPod. Obviously, I have left some songs off. If you have disagreements, I don't want to hear them.

I don't feel good. I'm sick to my stomach and voraciously hungry all at the same time. I think there's really only one answer to this problem. French fries. Seriously.

I'm an irritable person. There are a lot of things that irritate me. My easy-going nature can be turned in a snap if you happen to flip one of my triggers. Tardiness is easily my biggest irritation. It's inconsiderate. I really need to learn to not get so riled up about punctuality, but that's going to require more therapy than I can afford. Other irritants involve people sending me their resume and thinking that I can magically get them a job, despite their total lack of qualifications and experience at a company that it is impossible to get a job at. Dream on. Driving used to be a major source of irritation for me before I moved to this city where I am blessed everyday with public transportation. I am a fast, aggressive driver (imagine that) and I expect everyone else to drive like me. Tourists irritate me. They clog our sidewalks and our subways and generally make life harder to live for us residents.

Stay tuned. Things make me happy. I'll tell you about them soon.

FYI- Randy has stepped away from his desk and therefore doesn't know that 'Closer' by Nine Inch Nails (UN-edited) is blaring from his computer. I can't decide if I should be a good co-worker and turn it off, or continue to sit in gleeful silence waiting for him to come back and realize what he has exposed us to. (Insert evil laugh here).

Let's discuss music again. Can I embarrass myself and tell you that I LOVE the song Momma Said Knock You Out by LL Cool J? It's my most favorite song to run to. It's tough for me not to sing along, which can be embarrassing at my gym, which is in Harlem. Awesome.

Randy, who sits right next to me at work, often plays music on his computer. I don't mind this, unless it's the ubiquitous Judy Garland or Dolly Parton. Anyway, earlier today, a Melissa Etheridge song was playing. It immediately took me back to my favorite summer ever, when my sister and I were subbing for someone with a paper route. It took 2 of us to do it, as neither of us are particularly coherent in the wee hours of the morning. She drove and I took the papers to the doorsteps. We heard this particular Melissa Etheridge song every single morning. Now, whenever I hear it, I remember those days with my sister, the mornings that sucked, but the bond that we were forming that still ties us so closely together to this day. I have a lot of good friends, but there is no one else on this earth that I can talk to without ever having to give any backstories and who understands everything better than anyone else, other than my sister. She feels the same voids that I do, eats the same foods to fill said voids and even frequently gets confused for me (we look astonishly alike, despite a 5 year difference). She lives in my hometown with her husband and kids, and often people come up and talk to her thinking that it's me. She loves to tell these tools that I live in New York and work for a famous company. Don't play the who's-living-a-cooler-life game with me. I win- EVERY TIME. But I digress. Everyone should have someone like my sister in their life.

Relief. There are no adequate words to describe the amount of relief that is currently coursing through my body. Because I am a woman, and an irrational one at that, I have spent the last several days worrying a lot about the possibility that there might be a bun in my oven. The odds were stacked against it, I am first and foremost- a safety girl, but I was convinced that the statistical odds had decided to play a cruel joke on me and make me that special exception to every rule. Never in my whole life have I been so glad to see the irrevocable proof and get that familiar cramping that means only one thing- there is no bun.

Adding to the abundance of goodness that has been this lovely Wednesday morning, a certain adorable bouncer called me at 7 am just to say good morning. I am not a morning person and was woken out of a deep slumber and a dream involving Thanksgiving dinner, of all things, to hear such glad morning tidings and made my displeasure known. But a kernel of happiness imbeded itself into my brain as I hung up the phone that wouldn't let me go back to sleep, but made me lay there, contemplating the adorableness of the gesture.

It's the weirdest thing ever, I actually have nothing to say. It's completely unprecedented.

So, I think I may have become a slut. I don't exactly know where the line is, but it's entirely possible that I've crossed it. I've officially had sex with a total of 2 men (not at the same time- get your filthy minds out of the gutter). It just so happens that these 2 men are best friends. They don't care. But I do. The whole scenario is weird. Are they comparing notes? Don't they worry about me making comparisons? The weirdest part- the de-virginator, the one who got there first, has been talking to me about the friend, about dating the friend, etc, etc. He has also been insinuating to me that a repeat of our previous encounter is welcome at any time by him. I feel like I've stepped in the Sex Twilight Zone. I need to find a new group of men to start hooking up with, apparently.

Yankee game last night. They won- I'm sure it was because my presence brought them luck. Another one tonight- which they will assuredly also win. It's time Mr. Jeter recognized my good karma and just married me already. Sheesh.

When I first moved to New York City, I never understood why people made such a beeline for the end seats on the subway. After 2 years- I can tell you why. Because when you're in an end seat- only one side of you is exposed to other people trying to fit their fat asses into places that they don't belong. If I was a stand-up comic, I would absolutely do a bit on subway seats and the asses that don't fit in them. You can always see it coming. Someone boards the subway, they're looking around frantically for a seat, and they spot it, the lone empty seat between you and someone else that isn't exactly tiny, therefore leaving only a fraction of the seat empty. The just-boarded individual doesn't care that there is only a scant few inches of available space, they walk over, and smash their ginormous behind into the miniscule space and then to make matters worse, start rifling through their bag for the lost treasure of Atlantis. The only time that you are safe from these offenders is a weekday morning, around approximately 5 am. Seriously. On weekends, those trains stay full until all hours of the morning.

Just FYI- when you're starving and nothing sounds good- chunky vegetable soup is not the way to go.

Last Thursday night was eventful indeed. I put together a birthday outing for a friend who works in our mail room. He came, all of his mail room friends came, some of their friends came and then there was me. Another female friend joined us later, but for a large portion of the evening, I was the only female and the only white person to boot. So needless to say, there was a lot of talking and joking about race, but it was all in good fun. Now, an interesting conversation took place on the way home. As a back story to this- you have to understand that I have been body conscious my whole life. Stepmom #1, aka The Antichrist, was obsessed with weight. She was constantly telling my siblings and I that we were fat, putting us on diets, etc, etc and a lot of that mentality has obviously stuck. I've always been curvy, sometimes more curvy than others, but even when I was a gymnast and a track star, my ass and my thighs resolutely refused to adhere to athletic standards and remained luscious. As we were driving home late Thursday night, my friend, Will, began waxing poetic about the shape of me. About my pretty white girl face, my gorgeous black-girl booty and, as he called them- my 'puerto rican ta-ta's'. He was telling me not to ever change a thing, that my body was perfect exactly as it was, that I shouldn't let society dictate to me that I wasn't good enough. What a strange experience that was. Those are words that I have never, in the entirety of my life, heard. But I've been thinking about them a lot since that night. Was he right? Am I good enough, just as I am? Interesting.....

Things I learned this weekend, or Thursday night-
-If you've only had sex once in your life and you end up going home with someone who has to stop and get the large size condoms- RUN for your life. That shit is going to hurt.
-Men can redeem themselves. After lots of groveling and penitence on his part, I finally agreed to drinks with the bouncer. He was a great date. Way hotter than I remembered and he held my hand as he walked me to the subway. He didn't even try to kiss me and he called to make sure that I got home okay. Awwww.
- J.K. Rowling is an evil woman. I cried for the last 50 pages of the 6th Harry Potter book. Serious crying. None of that quiet weepy tears stuff. My roommate had to leave the room, she couldn't take the sobs anymore.

I am tired. I was on the phone until way too late last night trying to convince someone that I really didn't want to have phone sex. Sheesh. Some people just can't take no for an answer.

So, we've covered a lot of men in my past. Every single one of them, I'm glad I'm not with anymore, for one reason or another. There's one though, that I would still marry, to this day, if he showed up and asked, which he won't- cause he's married and fathering children. I was a silly, silly freshman in college. He was a senior and 26. Clearly, there was a significant age difference, which was especially pronounced at those years. We spent a lot of time together. We went up to campus together and he studied while I pretended to study, but was really just basking in his presence. We went on a date to Romeo and Juliet (the Baz Luhrmann version) and I thought my heart would break from loving him so much. He was brilliant and funny and just so great. He started dating another girl, but still spent a lot of time with me. The really crappy thing was, she and I got to be friends and I really liked her a lot. I wanted to hate her, I really did, but I couldn't. Him and I talked about 'us' just once. I asked him what he was doing, dating her and complaining to me about her, and then continuing to spend so much time with me. It wasn't fair to either me or her. He told me he didn't know what he was doing with her, that he often questioned why he wasn't dating me. We were shortly thereafter interrupted by his roommates and the conversation was forgotten. He married her and I never got over him. He is still the yardstick that I measure all men up against. I don't think of him so much anymore. And I recognize that I was foolish back then, and there was definitely a degree of maturity that I didn't have. But part of me feels like he is the best that I'm ever going to see and from here on out, I will just have to be satisfied with something less. Damn, that sucks.

A rip in the shirt that I put on this morning forced me into a shopping expedition on my lunch break. Shopping at Banana Republic is now my new favorite lunch time activity. I spent way too much money on way more shirts than the one necessary; including a completely unsuitable shirt, but my tits looked so great in it, I couldn't not get it. Also- the men at the Grand Central store are the hottest things I've ever seen. I may need to start making weekly visits.

Let's talk about the cutest kid I've ever met. So, I have previously mentioned that I lived in Russia for 6 months, approximately 7 years ago. I lived with a family. My Russian mom was the best. Her and I grew very close while I lived there and I grew to love her as my own mother. She had brothers that lived in the same city and we would frequently go to their houses for dinner. One of her brothers had a son, who was 14. Keep in mind- I was 20. His name was Serge. He was ADORABLE. Seriously adorable. And man, did that kid have a crush on me. Everytime they came over he brought me flowers. Whenever I was over at their house, without my mom, he would take me home. Dinners at their house often turned into parties, complete with weird games and dancing. The games would often involve kissing. They always put me next to Serge. They always made me dance with Serge. He cried at the train station when I left. He gave me a beautiful little statue that still sits on my bookcase, and a ring which I have subsequently lost. Don't tell him. His mom would often corner me and tell me how good it is for the woman to be six years older than the man. Sometimes, I catch myself thinking about this adorable Russian boy. I talked to my host mom for many years after I left and she would always tell me that he still waited for me. Does he still wait?

Side note- I started taking the pill about a month ago. Since starting it, my already substantial breasts have grown even more substantial. I'm ticked. And seriously- to the men- we can TELL when you're staring at them. Discretion is generally a good idea when checking out the twins. Just a little tip.

I went to a religious university. At this university, they offered courses regarding marriage and family. They had sections of these classes for the married and unmarried. The basic assumption in the unmarried class was that everyone had followed the teachings of the religion and abstained from having sex up to this point. So, there was always a part of the class where they discussed sex. It was everyone's favorite week of that class. One teacher told students that sex was like sneezing. A build-up, and then an explosion. And what is more unsatisfying than the build-up, but then the sneeze doesn't come? My best friend and I got a lot of mileage out of this analogy. Everytime one of us would sneeze, we would ask the other person, "How was it for you?" After the disastrous series of events that took place in Ireland earlier this year, we don't talk much anymore. I still think of her everytime I sneeze.

I swear on my soul, that there was a hooker on my subway last night. I could spend hours detailing the outfit, but I'll just give you what the main feature of it was- a sea-foam green slip dress, that was so see-through that I don't think it was ever meant to be a dress at all, but only to be worn underneath other clothing. Not ever as the main event. Also, imagine the heaviest eye makeup I've ever seen in real life. I didn't realize that hookers rode the subway. I guess they gotta go to work just like the rest of us!

Okay, I realized that my post sucked royally today, and I'm very aware of it. I just didn't have anything good to say! I'll try to rectify this tomorrow as I will spend all night thinking of something interesting and amusing to post on tomorrow.

For the record- here's a little secret of mine. I have a friend, who's in a relationship. She's the worst girlfriend on the planet. She nit picks this poor guy to death and argues about everything, regardless of how faulty her logic is. She tries to change the fundamental things about him that make him great. I am secretly crazy in love with her boyfriend. He is my perfect man personified, except for the whole dating-a-crazy-woman thing. I want to take him by the shoulders and shake him real hard and ask him what he's doing with her. I keep my tongue in check and try to support her. They are breaking up. I feel very bad for her, because I know that this will be really difficult for her to go through. Secretly, I am overjoyed. Not because I am hoping he will date me, I know him well and know that he would never date me. But because I can't stand the thought of him being so unhappy. There, now you all know that I am a terrible person.

Here's a rundown of the weekend events.

Friday- dinner, movie with friends, party, then out for late-night milkshakes with a good friend that I haven't talked to in ages.

Saturday- fastest leg shave ever in my existence, a mad dash for Penn Station- only to be thwarted by subway delays that caused me to miss my train, a few lovely hours at the beach, race home, then cab it to a dinner party because I am so late, off to a surprise birthday party, then down to 40/40 for a brief 10 minutes, just to say hi to someone, then finally, finally- home to bed.

When I get home, I realize that we are being descended upon by my roommate's family- a.k.a The Houseguests from HELL. They stayed with us previously, and we were forced to go stay with friends just to get away from them. Small children with emotional disorders do not do well in cramped New York City apartments. They're here for 4 days. I'll be avoiding home as much as humanly possible. Awesome.

With all the events, nothing of any real great excitement happened. No new men. No new phone numbers. No one that I'm dying to have sex with. What a waste of a weekend!