The Virginity Monologues

Days since I last had sex: 25

Yikes!

I actually got booty-called this past weekend, but didn't even answer my phone as I was... suffering from female afflictions.

Besides, aren't I supposed to be on a break?

And, holding out for it to mean something?

Since I've only had sex ONCE (actually twice, but it was both in the same night) in the last three months, I'm actually not doing too terribly. You can't expect a girl to go cold turkey, can you?

I frequently wake up in the middle of the night/early morning for no apparent reason. During these annoying awake times, I will do a lot of thinking. Sometimes I will compose lists of things that I need to get done at work. Often I will try to remember who I am crushing on at the moment, which is sometimes difficult. No fail, I always ask myself one question- if I had a man next to me right now, would I have sex with him (I also frequently ask myself this question right as I'm getting into bed to go to sleep)? There are occasions when the answer is no- during certain times of the month, obviously, or if I've been working out REALLY hard and I'm crazy sore. But almost always- the answer is yes.

Some man out there is missing out on a phenomenal sex life by not being with me.

Important Lesson for me to learn- to SHUT my MOUTH when I've been drinking.

Saturday Night, 3 a.m.....

Place: Beauty Bar
Drinks consumed: No way to quantify it, I'd been at a house party, Abby, the roommate, had been sloshing vodka in plastic cups and adding some cranberry. It probably equates to about 4-5, or 6-7.....
Dancing with: Email Boy, and I am so distracted by his close proximity that words just start falling out of my mouth....

Me: Oh, Emaily Boy (Certain names lend themselves nicely to adding an -y to the end, his is one of them), I used to be so in love with you!
Email Boy: What happened? My stock go down?
Me: Oh, I've just changed a lot over the last year. 27 was kind of a big year in my life.
Email Boy: Really? Tell me all about it
Me: Well, I lost my virginity and I stopped liking white boys
Email Boy: SHUT UP! You're kidding right? Well, I have a little black in me...

I can't believe I said that. Why did I tell him that? Of course, he had confided in me that he hadn't gotten laid in an obscenely long time....

Parting words:
Email Boy: It was good to see you, I'll definitely let you know that next time we have a party... hang on, why do we have to wait for a party? Why can't this be a regular occurance? We should hang out on a regular basis.
Me: Okay, but that means that you have to actually return my emails...

He laughs and kisses me on the cheek and we leave.

I think that it can safely be said that my chances of ever sleeping with him are officially- ZERO.

P.S. He did make it a point to show me his boxers... he wanted me to see how they matched his hat....

Labels: Email Boy

Email Boy is back on the scene again. I got an email from him a few weeks ago telling me that he's having a houseparty and requesting my presence. There have been a few additional emails back and forth regarding the deets and there was one yesterday, which I am going to paste right into this here blog so you can bask in his utter adorableness (L- you're the only one who's going to get the mojito joke- remember the party in Jersey at Crazy Lady's house? And the snorting*?)-

"The specifics-
Music-old school, 80s, house, hiphop...Mike and I have turntables in the apt so there is a high chance of people shakin it..
Alcohol-BYOB We'll have the basics (beer/liquor), but the more the merrier...especially if you're into something specific...--translation, if you want mojitos you better bring the tree leaves and the other stuff cuz i dont have it.

Party starts 10-1030... u can come earlier if you want--

Call my cell at some point on sat and give me an update..555-111-1222"
(cell phone number changed for security purposes, this is not the number that he gave me)

How cute is he? I love him! Also, what's with him telling me I can come earlier? Does that mean anything?

Two years!!! Two years I've been lusting after this man. I am now in possession of his address and his cell phone number!!

Commence stalking.....


*I realized I should explain the snorting- cause it sounds like we were doing lines of coke and we weren't. L was sickish and had recently partied herself hoarse. So whenever she would laugh, it came out a little like a bleating goat who was having surgery performed without any anesthesia, which in turn made all the rest of us laugh to the point of tears. When Email Boy laughed this hard, he always, without fail, ended up snorting, which then sent us tail-spinning into additional gails of laughter. It was a vicious, vicious laughter cycle.

Labels: Email Boy

First things first, I'm going to do a little venting. A little background- I am not a morning person. I don't like talking to people in the morning- at home, on the subway... I'm not ready to be talked to until I'm at my desk at work. There are people on my street that I know, that I will say 'good morning' on my way to the subway. We're friendly around my parts and everybody kind of knows everybody. There's a man that's always been nice and friendly to me, calls me 'young lady' and what not. He's harmless enough. This morning- I saw him on the way to the subway and said good morning. Then he turned and started walking to the subway with me! I couldn't escape! I had to get to the subway and there wasn't any alternative route. So he walked with me, yakking and yakking the whole time. It made me crazy! If him invading my personal morning time wasn't bad enough, he then had the GALL to ask me out! It's not even 9 am! Not to mention, he's at least 20 years older than me. Double ewww! I told him I had a boyfriend- easiest way to completely discourage someone and somehow managed to shake him loose at the subway station. Blech!! I was ticked.

Things That I Have Learned in the Last Week
1. A person can be everything you've ever wanted on paper, and then when you meet them, repulse you enough to make your skin crawl.
2. A person can be virtually nothing that you want on paper, and then when you meet, you find the chemistry to be practically palpable.
3. A person can be perfect on paper, then when you meet them, they're even better....

Since it drives me absolutely bonkers when people who's blogs I read don't do new posts for ages (Citygirl- that's you) I will post today, despite the fact that there seems to some sort of misalignment of the universe and I really don't have much to say.

I'm tired of the man-hating posts. There's nothing left for me to say on the subject. I don't understand them (men, not the posts). I continue to have poor judgment in men (at least I recognize it) and I will die alone. End of story!

I didn't go to the gym at all last week, as I was fighting a wretched cold with a low grade fever and just getting out of bed in the morning exhausted me. So I don't even have any interesting spin class stories to share.

This was basically my weekend to spend time with ME. Does anybody else feel the need to do this? I have times when I just need MY space. I don't really want to talk to anybody or see anyone. I want to bury my nose in a book at Barnes and Noble and drown out the rest of the world. It was glorious.

I am vain about many things. My lips- they are very full and dare I say, luscious. My ass- it's big, but I love it. Obviously my breasts- they come in handy. But at the top of the list, is my hair.

As a small child, I had that gorgeous white-blonde hair, generally found only on the Nordics and the very young. Age saw it get darker until I have settled into my adult natural hair color of a dirty blonde/mousy brown. The color is a little dull and blah, but some expertly applied highlights can fix that right up. My hair is thick, there's a lot of it, but the strands are very fine, so it's extremely soft. It's straight, but with a smidge of natural curl, to give it a little body.

These days- it's long. And I love it. I love that I can do hundreds of different things with it, even though I almost always wear it down. I love that when I pull it into a pony-tail, the end of it is long enough to hit my back. I love having someone run their fingers through it, or pull on it.

My hair doesn't let me down. Unlike Marc. Unlike Mr. Wrong. Unlike Cam.

Turns out- this is definitely my life.

It is unbelievable to me how inconsiderate people can be. I have a friend. There was a time when we were fairly good friends, good enough friends to travel together anyway. But I haven't seen her at all in about 3 years and we don't talk much anymore. Just the gradual drifting apart that happens with friends when you live across the country from each other and you weren't ever that close to begin with.

She asked me if her and her husband could stay at my apartment towards the end of March. I said it was okay, I don't mind guests too much and it's nice to be able to help other people out. She just sent me her plans, and guess how long she's staying?

ONE FULL WEEK. She arrives on a Friday and doesn't leave until the next Friday. Both her AND her husband. Who does that? Who thinks that this is an acceptable amount of time to inconvenience an entire apartment of people?

Inconsiderate people! That's who!!!

No More houseguests after this!

It's official- yesterday was my best Valentine's Day to date. Which just goes to show, it doesn't require fireworks and gobs of money.

The new man, let's call him Cam, came over around 7ish. I made him dinner while he worked on our computer. Turns out the computer has a virus and we need to format that hard drive. Poo to that. Anyway, then we just ate dinner while watching the Olympics (I love Bode Miller!) and talked for a long time. He was sore from basketball games and shoveling snow, so I offered to give him a back rub because I have magic hands. And backrubs are a perfect opportunity to get someone to take off their shirt!

Not wanting to scare my roommates with the half-naked man, we went into my room. Of course one thing led to another, was there any doubt about that? But I drew lines and didn't let him cross them. I was worried that he was going to be expecting something that I wasn't ready for yet, but he wasn't and we just kept it to some good old fashioned making out, with a little petting thrown in.

I kicked him out around 10:30ish and on his way out the door, he asked me out for Friday. That means 3 dates in one week. Holy shit.

Seriously, there is no way this is my life.

How long do I have to hold out?

Labels: Cam

Is the world still tilting on it's axis? After the events of last night- I feel like I must surely be in an alternate universe.

Last weekend, I met a guy at a party. He was handsome and there was a vibe there and we exchanged numbers. I didn't actually expect to hear from him, I mean, how many times have I given out my number and never been called? Approximately a million. So, I have learned that giving out a number means nothing and that expectations are foolish, right?

Imagine my surprise to hear from him on Sunday night! We talked for an hour and a half. He's funny, he's interesting, and he has a graduate degree. Be still my beating heart. He plays basketball for one of those intramural leagues here in the city, but wanted to hang out with me before the game, so we met up and had some dinner and talked for hours. He touched me a lot while talking to me, which I totally dig. He mentioned how attracted he was to me. When it was time for him to go, we walked to the subway together since we both needed the same line. He asked me if we could hang out again tonight.

He got off the subway before me, and kissed me on the cheek on his way out.

He called me after the game to confirm that we are hanging out tonight.

Surely this is not my life.

Did I mention that he has really phenomenal arms? I practically had an orgasm every time I touched them....

Labels: Cam

I used to be the girl who was never in a relationship, but always wanted to be in a relationship. Valentine's Day was just another day reminding me of just how unlovable I was. I was desperate for a boyfriend.

Things are different now. Before I wanted to be in a relationship because I wanted to get married so that I could have sex. Now that I'm no longer staring the barrel of dying a virgin, I'm not so sure I'm a relationship type of girl. I've been examining my true feelings regarding relationships lately and made an interesting discovery- I like being single. I like not ever having to answer to anyone about where I've been or who I've been with. I like being able to do whatever I want to do every night of my life, without ever having to factor in anybody else's schedule. I like the promise of being able to meet anyone and wonder what the future could hold for us.

I may feel that way, because I currently don't feel strongly enough about anyone to want to be with them, save one and he is not relationship material. If I could re-mold Mr. Wrong into the kind of man that I want him to be, and get rid of all of his supremely distasteful characteristics- cheating, lying, being a player, lazy good-for-nothing, crazy partying and drinking- I would want to be with him. I would want to wake up next to him every morning. I would do anything to be in a relationship with that person.

But he's not that person.

And so, I'll remain single, but I will be happy that way.

While I enjoy Spin class as much as the next masochist, I'm not sure I can survive many more classes like last night. This morning I'm mildly nauseous and my legs are still shaky. The instructor was brutal. Whenever I thought that I was going to die and that I couldn't possibly pedal one more time, he was there, standing next to my bike- demanding that I go faster. If I thought that I could've gotten off the bike without passing out, I probably would have strangled him.

The best part? The man on the bike next to me was the bartender at the cocktail party that I went to on Tuesday night, where I had secretly thought that he was a beautiful specimen of a man, even if he is white. Yeah, I made the mistake of talking to him before class, which meant that there was more talking after class, after he had witnessed me looking the worst I've ever looked in my whole life, sweating enough to create a pool of water beneath the bike. HOT!!! From here on out- no more talking to men at the gym.

I'm up to my fucking nipples in spreadsheets, comps, images and deadlines. Who would have thought that launching a new magazine would be so much fucking work?

Luckily, I get flashbacks every now and then of naked, sweaty bodies from Saturday night to get me through the rough times (I promise to stop talking about it very soon).

Spin class tonight! Who's excited?!?!

Well, it was a long, long day at a conference with a cocktail reception afterwards. Two glasses of wine later and I'm ready to tell everything that happened on Saturday night. Warning, this could graphic......

Michelle and I were at dinner, discussing the repercussions of choosing the celibate, single life. The absence of touch. And not necessarily just from men, but the feeling of affection from another person. How long can a person go without it? I reach a point where I crave it. Where I just want to know that another person cares about me enough to put there hands on me somewhere, somehow. Then, we went and saw a movie with, quite frankly, some of the hottest sex scenes I have ever scene, which compounded my craving for something, some sort of physical interaction with another person.

We stopped off at our favorite Irish bar in the West Village for a few drinks before calling it a night. The place was packed with a large amount of Irish men in New York on vacation for a few days. Michelle happens to be a bit of a sucker for that brogue and we stayed quite some time. One particular gent asked me if I'd 'like to fornicate'. Tempting as that was (read: sarcasm), my bed was calling to me. I left my Irish friends, not without assuring them that fornication was not on the menu for them that evening, to head home.

Phone call from Audi man (I'm too tired and mildly out of it to link to the post about him, but he's on the decoder ring post to be found to the right). We've had several very long phone conversations and one very long evening together that involved nothing more than some heavy making out in his car. Did I want to come over to his place? He'd come and pick me up in his beautiful Audi.

Ummmmmmm....... okay.

We arrive at his place in the Bronx, and I'm barely able to admire the Picasso's on his wall before clothes are flying everywhere. I don't know if I was just REALLY ready for it, or if he just fit me perfectly, but I've never come faster and harder. After a repeat of this phenomenon on the second round a few hours later, I declared him to be in possession of a 'magic dick'. Almost even better than the screaming orgasms? The pre and post cuddling, the spooning, the gentle kisses when he dropped me off at my apartment.

All morning, I've been agonizing in my head about what to blog about today. Do I blog about the tortuous experience that I had at a five star restuarant on Friday night, where the food was not so great and two of my friends ordered HAMBURGERS, which then segued into a hilarious experience at Serendipity- where one of the hamburger ordering friends went to go meet a guy there that had been calling her twice a day for weeks and then didn't recognize her when she standing directly in front of him?

Or do I do an extensive post about volunteering at a cat shelter on Saturday morning, where one of the cats tore apart my arm? That was good times.

Or, would you rather hear about Saturday night, which started out with dinner and a movie with Michelle, then moved to a bar in the West Village and ended around 9 the next morning in the Bronx where I was having the best sex of my life for the second time in less than 4 hours?

Quite frankly, I'd rather blog about the Superbowl and how I contend that were it not for constant and incessant bad calls by clearly biased refs, the Seahawks would have won.

All in all, it was a weekend for the record books and I'm going to need about 20 straight hours of sleep to ever feel normal again.

Do you ever get tired of holding it together?

I did, last night.

I found out some information about Mr. Wrong yesterday that upset me. About people he was sleeping with the entire time that he'd been sleeping with me, who I am acquainted with. I had that moment of clarity where you realize exactly what a gigantic fool you've been. All the lies that I told myself for so long- I was special, I was different, etc, etc, came crashing down on my head, making me acutely aware of my own insignificance.

Then I went to the gym where the scale showed me that all of my insanely hard work is not paying off like I want it to.

I'm fucking sick of lettuce!

So, I stopped holding it all together. I let go of the string that was holding me together so fragilely. And I silently cried the whole subway ride home.

Then I got up at 5:30 this morning to get to a spin class before work. One step backward? Fuck you, I'm taking two steps forward.

Labels: Mr. Wrong

So, I did my first ever spin class last night. It was possibly one of the most difficult hours of my life. But as the class was ending, and I was allowing myself to bask in the amazement of actually finishing the class, we were cooling down and the instructor played 'This Year's Love' by David Gray and the sweat was pouring off me, exhausted but exhilarated, and I felt.... complete. Is that ridiculous? I looked at Karen, sweating through her clothes next to me, and we smiled at each other. The smile of two friends who've been through a lot together and know exactly what the other person is thinking right at that moment. It was a life moment, for me anyway, all because of David Gray and spin class.

After class we went to the noodle shop across the street and we were discussing friendship etc, and she said, "In the words of Dan, Chloe is easy to love."

"WHAT?!?" was my reply, "when did he say that?"

Dan is a friend of mine that I used to work with in my old department. We spent a LOT of time together at the company Christmas party, he got totally bombed and planted a big wet kiss on me at the end of the night. I chalked it up to the alcohol and have teased him mercilessly about it since. He came to my bowling birthday fiesta, made me burnt cookies, and gave me another slobbery one just for tradition's sake at the end of the night. We're friends. He's hysterical and I enjoy his company, but I haven't ever thought about him THAT way. Mostly cause he's white and slighty dorky, but absolutely adorable.

It turns out that he said some interesting things about me to Karen at my birthday extravaganza.

Interesting things that he said-
1. Chloe is easy to love.
2. Know what I love best about Chloe? She's so much fun, drunk or sober.

Can I get an awwwww?

That's adorable. I may have start making my way towards his desk more often.... I'm intrigued by the situation. Mostly, cause he kinda reminds me of my ex-boyfriend, but without the issues.

It's time to let go of you.

Did you ever know? I barely noticed you, until that night that you took my hand in yours. Then we sat on that stoop for hours. You won my heart with your compliments and overwhelming presence. And when you wrapped my hair around your fist and pulled oh so gently, I thought I could never want anyone more.

Remember that night, when we came oh so close to acting on what had been building between us for so long? I was so scared and unsure of myself, I couldn't take those steps to you and your house. But I know it would have been great. I'm usually so quiet, but I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from calling your name over and over again.

Marc, Marc, Marc....

Are you a good kisser? I guess I'll never know.

Because I'm letting go of you.

You don't deserve me.

Labels: Marc

Here's a rundown of everything I ate yesterday-

Breakfast (the usual)-
fat-free plain yogurt
granola
blueberries
raspberries
a smidge of honey
orange

Lunch-
Baby spinach with apples, walnuts, feta cheese, chickpeas, and balsamic vinaigrette dressing
Carrots

Snack-
Dried apricots (not too many, those babies are high in fiber)

Obscene amounts of water

And to top it all off, after a grueling 2 hour workout-
A bowl of Cocoa Puffs!!

I used to hate those girls that spent their whole life at the gym. I always felt like they didn't have any substance and that their priorities were all out of whack. Isn't there more to life than toiling away on those devil-made cardio machines? Since I've become a bit of a gym-rat myself, I understand it better. The endorphin high is addictive. And every time I work out- I am reminded of how much further I need to go to get to where I want to be, which means no rest for the weary.