The Virginity Monologues

Number of Opportunities to Have Sex in the last 24 hours: 2 (Greg and Jay)

Number of Times Had Sex in the last 24 hours: 0

On a Scale of 1-10 (10 being the highest) How Pissed I am That This Sickness is Interfering With My Bustling Sex Life: 10

Number of Hours Spent Watching Real World: Austin Last Night While Praying for Death: 3

Number of Tears Shed Over the Footage of Danny and Melinda's (from Real World) Engagement: 0

Number of Times I Wanted to Call Real World Producers and Tell Them to Stop Picking Such Irrational Women to be On Their Show: Approximately 500

Number of Text Messages from Marc in the last 72 hours: 0

Number of Times I Have Wanted to Text Message Marc, but Haven't Because I am Trying to Play Hard to Get: Approximately 500

Number of Times I Woke Up in the Middle of the Night Hacking: 5

Number of Dead Mice in My Kitchen This Morning: 1

Number of Cough Drops Consumed in the Last 24 Hours: At Least 20

Number of Emails from Long Lost Best Friend in the last 24 hours: 1

Number of Years it's Been Since We Last Spoke: 3

Number of Wives He Now Has: 1

Number of Children: 1 on the way

How Much I have Missed Him: Infinite

I'm sick. Like throwing up and coughing all night long sick. The ride on the subway this morning was unbearable. It was crowded. I was deathly afraid I was going to puke on all my fellow commuters and I just wanted to fold myself in the arms of the nice, large man behind me. I don't do sick very well.

And it makes my head all fuzzy, so todays post may be a little jumbled.

My hair is officially the longest it has ever been in my whole life. It is actually past my shoulders, which is no mean feat, let me tell you. I generally have no patience with my hair and once it gets to a certain point, I chop it all off. I'm enjoying the sex kittenish feel of it being longer though and I think I will continue to grow it.

There is another girl in my office in love with Mr. Wrong. I can see it. She probably thinks that no one can tell (just like I did), but it's very obvious to me. I recognize all the signs. I wonder if he's sleeping with her. Would it make me a terrible catty bitch to pull her aside and tell it to her like it is? Help her to head off disappointment and heartbreak? There's no way I would do it. I don't know her that well. But I pity her.

Is it ridiculous how much I love getting my period? Since I've been having sex, I rejoice in getting it every month, because it means that I am not pregnant. And that makes me very, very happy.

Per KingBob's request. Here are the Fuck-Me Boots. They're more impressive on. And I wish the heel were about an inch higher, but this way I can wear them to work without being too much of a skank.

The drought is over! I'm back and I'm blogging! I hope everyone had a wonderful and turkeylicious Thanksgiving. Mine was.... eventful, even if I didn't get laid once!

There was a lot of Marc over this weekend. Leaving me more confused than ever, really. He was in Chicago for Thanksgiving, but I got a text message from him around noon on Thanksgiving day- letting me know that he would be back around midnight and wanting to know where I would be. Karen and I had already planned that I would stay the night at her house that night, so that I could enjoy our holiday without worrying about getting home late at night. I let him know that I was planning to be right next door.

That night, Karen and I were at another neighbor's housing, drinking and helping him wash his dishes (also a friend of Marc's). At 12 am on the nose, I got a text message. Marc was home, where was I? I told him we were at Kevin's, washing dishes. He was over in less than 5 minutes. Later, when we left, he invited me over to his house to iron things out between us. I don't if sex is what he had on the brain, but it was 2 am and all of his roommates were out of town, so I can only imagine where this would have led, so I told him I was tired and going to bed.

In the end, I'm still confused. I'm tired of playing games. I don't play the game well and I get very impatient, very quickly. If something doesn't give soon, I'm going to lose interest.

Why doesn't he just ask me out already?!?!?

Labels: Marc

We have been given the green light to leave the office, and everyone else has gone, but for some reason, I'm still hanging around. Mainly because I have more shit to do than god and I can't handle the thought of a huge long weekend ahead of me with this much work waiting for me when I get back.

But, to try and get myself in the Holiday Spirit, here's a few things that I am particularly thankful for.

1. My family. They're crazy. They think I'm crazy. But I love 'em with every ounce of love that I possess and just being with them makes me unbelievably happy.

2. New York City. This place has burrowed its way under my skin and become something I never thought it would- home.

3. Kate Spade Sample Sales

4. Condoms

5. My iPod

6. Good friends. The kind that don't ever walk away.

7. My brand new Fuck-Me-Boots.

8. My job.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I can't believe I'm going to tell this story. You're all going to think that I am a dirty, dirty whore.

Oh well.

Last night, I was on my way home, texting back and forth with Marc, neighbor boy (and by neighbor boy- I am referring to the fact that he is Karen's neighbor- NOT my neighbor. This could get confusing now that there's a new man on the scene who is MY neighbor) about how undeserving he is of cookies, when I got a call. It was Jay, who lives literally 10 feet away from me and who I lust after regularly. He was at work (a hotel) and wanted me to come and meet him.... and to bring a bottle of wine with me.

Ahem.

What transpired over the next few hours officially makes me the dirtiest girl I know. Plus, I got to knock out 2 fantasies in one- Jay and hotel sex.

It hurts a little to sit down today.

I love it.

Labels: Jay

Yesterday morning, as I woke up with a terrible hangover and not even a phone number to show for my hours of drinking on Saturday evening, I was thinking that the weekend was turning out to be a bit of a bust. Sunday, it turns out, was a striking gold day.

First there was a phone call from Greg, the lovely man that I went out with a few weeks ago, who had kissed me tenderly at the end of the night and then proceeded to turn into the busiest man alive. We email almost everyday, but work has kept him very tied up so we haven't gone out again. I'm thinking this weekend might be another shot at it.

Then, as I was leaving my apartment to go meet Karen to see Harry Potter (LOVED it!), I ran into Jay, who lives next door to me and quite frankly, is smoking hot. I think he's gorgeous and he knows it. We're buddies though. We've hung out a couple of times. We rode down the elevator together and even though he wasn't going that way, he walked me to the subway. He was asking me about Ted and I was telling him that everything with Ted was over and done with, as Ted is a lying asshole.

"Well then," he said, "can I have your number?"

Um, YES. Thanks.

I don't want to date him, I just want to fuck him. A lot. So, it's handy that he lives 10 feet from me.

Here was our parting conversation-

Me: Can I ask you a question?
Jay: Of course
Me: Last time I saw you, you said I could "get it" if I wanted it. Were you serious?
Jay: Uh, YES.
Me: Okay... Good..... Cause I want it.
Jay: I'll call you.

Awesome!

But hold on to yer hats kids, cause the fun's not over yet!

Guess who called while I was in Harry Potter!?!?!

MARC. Neighbor Boy. Haven't heard from him in WEEKS. He wanted cookies and he was prepared to dance around in a red thong to Weezer to get them.

So I made chocolate chip cookies, but in place of chocolate chips, I used a chopped up Symphony bar with toffee and almonds. They were so good I almost passed out.

Surprise, surprise. Marc was going to be late. Like 11:30 late. I told him to fuck off and that me and my delicious cookies were staying home. I told him to think about his actions, and come up with a suitable option for making it up to me and only then would I consider taking him off Cookie Probation, which he is now on for LIFE.

He said he'll call me today. Whatever. Good thing I have killed all expectations where he is concerned. Anything I get from him at this point is just a bonus.

Labels: Jay, Marc

Let's all have a moment of silence for the cancellation of Arrested Development. As a general rule, I don't watch much TV (who needs TV when they're living my life?!?! hahahaha!) but this show was absolutely something worth making the time for every week. I own Season One and Two on DVD and nothing is a better pick me up than watching these for an hour or five.

To my dearest Jason Bateman- I will mourn this loss every day for the rest of my life.

We're not going to talk about Mr. Wrong today. Thank God. You're all probably sick to death of my constant ramblings about his sorry ass.

There was a summer of my life where I spent a lot of time with a large group of people who were way too cool for their own good and all had weird nicknames like- Kansas, 63 or Muffin. They were fun enough and really into music, which of course I loved, but as a whole I could take them or leave them. But through these random individuals, I became acquainted with a girl who would become one of my nearest and dearest friends, Courtney. It was she who introduced me to Felicity (I love Ben!). We stuck together for years, through many moves and many boys. Until one boy came into her life and changed everything. I hated him. HATED him. From almost the first moment that I met him. He treated her like garbage and their relationship turned into this horrific train wreck, that was difficult for me to stand by and watch. Eventually we just drifted apart. No big finale, just going in different directions and not able to follow each other there. It's been about 4-5 years since we last spoke.

I've been trying unsuccessfully to find her. Another friend was smarter than me and googled her yesterday.

We found her.

She lives 3 hours away from me (when I knew her, we lived 2000 miles away from New York).

I emailed her.

I'm waiting very, very impatiently to hear back.

Everyone keep your fingers crossed!

Damn it all to hell and back! Mr. Wrong is so FUCKING hot. Hot, hot, hot!

I'm shouldn't even be indulging in this line of thought, but I'm going to anyway.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how HE feels about me, as opposed to my incessant analysis of my own feelings for him. Am I simply a girl to fuck? Or, is there more than this?

Let's examine the evidence-

Pros to my being more than just a vagina (with tits attached) to him:
*He gets territorial, SERIOUSLY territorial when we are out together. He has thrown a guy off me. Literally.
*He unnecessarily comes by my desk a million times a day, and gives me shit about eating a frosty then going to the gym.
*He remembers random comments made AGES ago. He brings up my family (which I told him about in passing at least 7 months ago when I was trying to get him out of my apartment before my roommmates stumbled upon the strange, handsome black man). He brings up the reasoning that I gave him for giving him my virginity (which was a COMPLETE lie, by the way). I have a weird, weird memory and have an ability to recall minute details, he remembers more than me.
*He is ALWAYS bringing up how I feel about him. Like I previously posted- last time we had sex he made me tell him that I was in love with him before getting down and dirty.
*First thing in the morning nookie- both of us completely sober and had morning breath. He couldn't get enough.
*We met up at a party once. Women THREW themselves at him (this happens a lot!), and when he was leaving, he only wanted to leave with me, even though this was never implied all evening and I had spent all night talking to someone else.
*The first night we ever spent together- there was no sex at all. He spent all night with his arms wrapped tightly around me. Even after we started having sex- there has been repeats of this just-cuddling all night phenomenon.
*He talks about me to other people. Regularly. I am constantly hearing about it.

Cons- or He Just Wants to Fuck Me
*We've never been on a date, ever
*He generally only calls me when he's been drinking, as a matter of fact, I don't think he's ever called me sober.
*I catch him checking out my boobs constantly.

I can't believe I'm even doing this. I need to be shot. Or just get laid by someone else, preferably.

Labels: Mr. Wrong

I forgot that they existed. I was searching for another email when I came across them.

The emails.
From the ex.

I did an exorcism of all things ex-related a few months ago and I deleted all of the emails chronicling our relationship except for 2. The 2 emails remind me of how great I had it, and what it's like to be loved by someone really amazing.

I just read them again.

Let me give you a little taste of what one of them says-

"And I can't say this enough, you mean so much to me. The last thing I want to do is not be with you."

WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?

I have been considering having sex with dubious-occupation-street-boyfriend, Ted, when I had THIS!

How did my standards get so low? How could I have forgotten what love is really about and laid it all on a sacrificial altar for a few moments of pleasure, when I know how much better it can be?

Not that I want to get back together with my ex, because I don't. But, I want somebody to love me like that again. I want to know what sex is like when that kind of emotion is introduced.

Damn those emails. Maybe I should delete them. It's so much easier to indulge in indiscriminate sex when I remove those from the equation, when love doesn't matter at all.

Labels: The Ex

Mr. Wrong.

I'm lusting after him again. I was looking at him yesterday thinking what an absolutely beautiful specimen he is. While I may be ever-so-slightly clouded by the fact that I lost my virginity to him, it cannot be denied that, well, he's pretty.

Last night right before I was going to sleep, I couldn't stop thinking about the last time we had sex. First thing in the morning nookie- initiated by him. I don't know that I've ever enjoyed waking up more. I was remembering how the night previous, I had told him not to even try to take my shirt off, cause it's delicate and he's, well, not. So I stood with my back to him, and pulled off the shirt, oh so carefully, and turned around as I was pulling it over my head and he stood there- transfixed- staring at me, and how, as I started to unbutton my pants he was across the room in a flash to give me a hand. And how he made me tell him that I was in love with him before he would have sex with me.

Despite everything- I cherish these memories.

He's not my boyfriend. He never will be.

But occasionally he makes me feel like the most treasured woman alive.

Labels: Mr. Wrong

I'm FREEEEEEE. Free as a bird!

SIX DAYS. That's how long my friend has been visiting me and holding my regular life hostage. SIX DAYS!!! Six days of her not really knowing what she wants to do, and assuming that I will have a multitude of crazy and exciting plans at my finger-tips. After the first night that she was here (Read: Death By Alcohol Consumption) she was "uncomfortable" going out like that again, so all activities had to be liquor free for the remaining 5 days. Six days of pulling out our couch every night and making her bed for her and working at being a good hostess when it was her that asked if she could stay with me and not the other way around.

The trouble with living in New York- calls from people you're not really that close to who want to come and stay with you for days and days and expect you to drop everything and entertain them and make them believe that everyone lives just like Carrie Bradshaw. They make you go to Canal Street- oh god, I hate Canal Street, and to the MoMA, where we ran into Paul Bettany and Jennifer Connolly so it was totally worth it, but I still would have preferred to have been on my couch with a good book.

But it's over and I can go back to doing laundry and fielding booty calls from totally undeserving men.

Oh my dear god. Last night, was Michelle's birthday, and we drank accordingly. And, we played Beer Pong, which although I was surprisingly good at for it being my first attempt, we still lost. Which means, an entire pitcher of beer was consumed between the two of us. I can't believe I'm even walking in a straight line today. We discovered some good diversionary tactics though- flashing, dancing with each other, pretending to make-out, etc, etc. Men are so easy to distract. Although I can't say that a nice set of arms wouldn't have done the same to me. Especially in my heavily inebriated state.

Here's a list of everything that I drank last night-

2 glasses of Sangria
1 Pabst Blue Ribbon
1 Cider
1 Red-Headed Slut Shot (yager and cranberry juice and something else, I think)
1/2 pitcher of Budweiser

Just looking at that list makes me want to throw up.

BTW- I really, really need to get laid.

At least twice in a 12 hour period.

Thanks.

I have good news and I have.... slightly disturbing news.

Good news- I bought my plane ticket home for Christmas this morning. Because my home is clear across the country and requires at least one layover, I don't get home much. The last time I was home was last Christmas. And so, for 10 days in December I can get in touch with my small-town roots and do nothing but play with my nieces and nephews. I figure by the time that 10 days is over, I'll be itching to come back to New York, just in time to party like a mad fiend on New Years Eve. Bitchin.

Slightly Disturbing News- So, Marc, Neighbor Boy, has been out of town for about a week and a half. I haven't really heard from him since our long talk that Sunday night so long ago. I've accepted things for what they are and moved on. Sure, I still have residual feelings for him, but I can't make someone be interested in me. I no longer allow myself to have cute little coupley fantasies about him in those minutes just before I go to sleep. I'm trying to be realistic! Well, he's back in town, Karen ran into him- and he asked about me! FUUUUUUCK. What is that all about? If you're going to be uninterested, please be consistent in your actions, for the sake of my sanity.

Thanks.

Labels: Marc

So, I know a guy. His name is Brian Grosz. I have a link to him- The Hottest Doc of All, even though he stopped blogging a while ago. I keep it up for sentimental reasons, and because even if he's not putting up new stuff, his old stuff is fucking phenomenal. Never in a million years will I be able to write like this guy. Anyway. He has a band- Dogs of Winter, who are releasing their debut EP this week (can be bought on Amazon) or you can preview tracks and what not Here.

If you happen to live in the NYC area, you can also go see them perform at their album release party at Arlene's Grocery (Stanton and Orchard)-

10 pm on Wednesday, November 9 for a mere $7.

TOTALLY worth it. This guy is hot. Like- panty melting hot. I know, cause I've shook his hand, multiple times and it gives a girl an orgasm just to be close to him. He wouldn't remember me though, as I am not even remotely rock n' roll- no tattoos or unusual piercings to speak of, but, whatever.

So, go see 'em. Support new artists. And if you're really lucky, he'll take his shirt off.

I am not getting a lot of work done today. Mainly because I am tracking the shipping status of my new handbag approximately every 5 minutes. But I just found a nifty little option on the UPS website that will email me whenever there's any kind of update on my package. I love UPS!

Also, I'm not getting any work done because we are moving floors today and all of my junk is packed up and I have boxes piled high all around me, thereby making my ability to do anything productive virtually nil. Awesome.

Okay, so here's a list for the day.

5 Top Places that I want to Visit (attention- future husbands, please keep these in mind for possible honeymoon scenarios)
5. Vienna
4. Prague
3. Buda-Pest
2. Barcelona
1. Greek Islands

Oooh, one of our executive vice presidents just gave me her leftover edamame. I'm a very happy camper.

Everyone meet my new handbag.

I wanted her since the first time I ever saw her pretty face. But at $375, I really couldn't justify buying her when there's rent to be paid. Luckily for me, the recent sample sale knocked her down to a cool $140 and my heart cried for joy.

I promise to love her and cherish her and not once spill yogurt in her or stash a full McDonald's cup of Dr. Pepper in her because I don't want to throw it out when I go into a movie. And in return, she will look lovely on my arm and garner me looks of envy on the subway.

If only I could somehow manage to cram my spectacularly wide feet into those dainty Kate Spade shoes. Life would be complete.

My Last 24 Hours in a Nutshell

Happiness is:

A new handbag from a Kate Spade sample sale.

Happiness is not:

When the Kate Spade sample sale website doesn't work and charges my card 5 times for the same bag.

Happiness is:

Going to a taping of a daytime talk show and getting asked to be a part of the show.

Happiness is not:

Watching said show and realizing that the camera spent WAY too long on my expressionless face, therefore making me look like an idiot in front of my entire department and the whole world.

Happiness is:

A new office!

Happiness is not:

Packing for the new office.

Happiness is:

Going to bed at 10:30 after too many very late nights.

Happiness is not:

Getting booty called at 11:00 on the same night by Mr. Wrong.