The Virginity Monologues

I went to my first Yankee game of the season last night. It was a little chilly, but totally AWESOME. I was with a big group of friends, and the people around us were crazy loud and hysterical, and by the end of the game, I was reduced to the silliest version of myself- drunk on the euphoria of the win and being able to Mariano Rivera in the 9th. It's ridiculous how happy baseball makes me.

I'm trying not to think about Scott (New Boy who I went out with yesterday) too much, but I'm failing miserably. I'm in the gambling phase of the relationship. The gamble being when to give it up. Wait too long? You're gonna lose him. Don't wait long enough? You're gonna lose him. Back when I wasn't having sex, I thought that if I would just have sex it would make things so much easier. But it's not easier, it's just a different animal altogether. I hate this playing games and holding out business, but it's absolutely necessary and I'm absolutely terrible at it.

Blegh.

Labels: Scott

I've been reluctant to talk about a situation, due to the nature of my incredible bad-luckness when it comes to men. I met a guy around the beginning of April. There was chemistry but the meeting was short. We exchanged phone numbers. He called, often, but he immediately left for vacation for almost 2 weeks, and it's been tough to get together due to conflicting work schedules and what not. We have talked on the phone almost nightly. And there was a lot of text messages and even a phone call while he was on vacation.

Today, we had lunch.

And as far as first dates go, it was pretty awesome. He's hilarious. Much funnier than me, which is a little troublesome, but I could get used to it. There was a lot of touching. Him touching my hands across the table, my knee under the table, putting his arm around me when we were walking. A brief goodbye kiss right on the side of my mouth in front of my office.

We're going out again on Saturday.

A text message 10 minutes after he left me that read, "You looked absolutely yummy."

I like him. I really like him.

But I'm scared. How do we know when they're just in it for sex? How do we know when we can trust them with our heart? How do we separate the good ones from the bad ones? How do you know when it's real?

I'm very afraid.

Labels: Scott

I don't talk about my job much. For multiple reasons. I don't want to get Dooced. And there isn't a whole lot to say, due to the fact that I am one of the lucky few Americans who can honestly say that I LOVE my job. I love the company that I work for, I love my co-workers. There's some irritating office politics, but on the whole I consider myself to be INCREDIBLY lucky to be where I am.

I had an interview with another company yesterday. They liked me and want me to come back for a second interview. I feel incredibly disloyal even thinking about another job.

But there's a ladder I'm supposed to be climbing, and I'm itching to get to that next rung.

Updates to follow....

You know what's really interesting? I am very content and happy with my life. And there's a substantial number of people living vicariously through my independent, single, career-driven New York City, semi-sex-filled, boozed-up life.

You know who I live vicariously though?

Dooce

A stay-at-home mom in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Ain't life a bitch?

So, back to Mr. Wrong. I've been stewing over a few things in my head recently. Things just seemed so different this time. Is it because we'd been on a SIX month hiatus and I'd forgotten what sex was like with him? Or had the dynamic of our relationship changed?

The most exciting thing is, I got to try something that I've always wanted to try. There's a position that has always featured prominently in my fantasies. But, it requires a couch and thus far, all sexual escapades have taken place in a bed, or in one instance, a conference room floor. This time, we were a little impatient and the couch was where all the action took place. He was sitting, and I was sitting on top of him, facing him. And I have to say, it lived up to up to the hype in my head.

Also, mid-episode, I remembered something that I read in Cosmo. That men can feel it when a girl flexes her Kegel muscles. I don't know if this is true, but I gave it a go! I meant to ask him if he could tell, but I forgot and now it would be a little awkward to bring it up.

Here's something I don't understand, men and the long hair business. My hair is long-ish. Past my shoulders anyway. And when I'm blowing a guy (this doesn't happen often), my hair is CONSTANTLY in the way. I always end up with hair in my mouth and I frequently have to stop to pull it all to the side. Unless the man is smart enough to pull it back from my face (and maybe tug a little, ROWR), long hair is just a nuisance.

Labels: Mr. Wrong

A frighteningly uneventful weekend, I am sorry to say. No sex. No booze. No baseball. Nothing! Although, there was a very scary hour where I was driving in Brooklyn, trying to get to Queens and failing very miserably. I eventually ended up at my ex-boyfriend's apartment cause that was the only place in all of Brooklyn that I knew how to get anywhere from. I didn't go in. I just used it as a point of reference and then, quick like a bunny, had us in Queens. Genius!

I received two invitations recently, one from Mark and one from another friend Kevin. Mark and his roommates are having a house-party to which I've been invited. Not that this means anything as the entire free world has been invited. Kevin is having a Destination Birthday Party, although not until September so we've still got a while. We'll probably end up going to Puerto Rico or Dominican Republic. The catch? Kevin is very good friends with Mark. I am SURE that Mark will go. And I am sure that I will go.

This could prove interesting.

I desperately hope that I'm in a place at that time where it doesn't matter what happens or doesn't happen between us.

Today, I'm sore. Good sore, ya know? Some too-long dormant muscles got a good workout! The bite mark on my neck is fading (oh god, that was so hot), but I'm still basking in the glow of his praise- "That shit is the bomb!", after I went down on him (for the first time, ever). Too much information?

Here's the shitty thing about good sex. You think that getting it will satisfy those horny demons inside you and you can get back to life as a normal sex-having person. But really, it just makes those demons even hornier, because during the long drought, they had forgotten how spectacular it can be, but now they remember and they NEED IT ALL THE TIME!!!

If I was getting it this good all the time, would I still crave it with this intensity?

I washed my hair yesterday, so today was supposed to be a non-wash day. But after activities that involved me being incredibly sweaty at 2 am, I figured it was probably better off with a good scrubbing.

Here's the timeline:
1:00- sleeping
1:05- My friend, Jake, calls me to find out what I'm doing, and I tell him SLEEPING, like most normal people on a Tuesday night at 1 am. He tells me that he's with Mr. Wrong and he's asking for me, I tell him that I don't give a fuck and hang up.
1:10- Mr. Wrong calls and begs, and I mean serious begging. No, no, no, I say.
1:15- Mr. Wrong is home and wants me to come over, he wants to fuck my brains out he says. Copious begging. He actually says, "CHLOE! I'm begging here!" I have to admit, I'm deriving a great deal of pleasure from this.

It's late, my brain is fuzzy and I'm remembering that I haven't had sex in a while and how much I absolutely love his body and that I have been really wanting to have sex, but don't have the time/energy to find someone new, plus I hate adding more men to the already too large number, so it's so much more appealing to hook up with someone already in the Men-I've-Had-Sex-With Club. Especially him, because, Dear God, I love that body.

20 minutes later, I am there and I am remembering how fucking phenomenal that shit is.

Labels: Mr. Wrong

You know what's weird? I don't really think about Marc that much anymore. Maybe the whole drama-rama from a few weeks ago gave me the closure that I had been needing? Or maybe I'm just crazy-fickle!

I tell you who I do think about a lot though- Email Boy. The amount of communication between us is astonishing. We texted all day on Saturday, until around 1 am. He left me comments on my myspace page. He wore the T-shirt that I gave him to the Mets game on Saturday. He emailed me several times today. The whole situation is starting to freak me out. Is he gunning for the role of best friend? Who does he want to be in my life?

Easter was interesting. I was in New Jersey, learning that every family has it share of secrets and they all like to tell me all of them! I was also feeding my shoe addiction. I think I'm going to need a 12 step program for it soon. I've got my 4 inch heels on today. Just putting them on makes me feel about 10 time sexier. Such an interesting phenomenon, heels.

So, I've been contemplating internet dating. Anyone have any thoughts on this? Good idea, bad idea? It feels like an act of desperation, but maybe a good way to weed out the undesirables?

Labels: Email Boy

So, I went to a Death Cab for Cutie/Franz Ferdinand concert a few night ago and discovered that maybe I'm getting old. I didn't do any drinking, and the next day I felt like I was suffering from a seriously wicked hangover. I had a devil of a headache for over 24 hours and I couldn't make my ears stop ringing. Maybe next time I should take ear plugs?

Today, I'm supposed to be heading for Pennsylvania. But my traveling companion is still sleeping and I'm trying desperately not to get annoyed. I mean, I knew this would happen! This is how it always happens. She stays out too late, can't wake up the next morning to leave on time, and then rushes around to get ready and always ends up making me wait for her forever. Good times!

As a side note, while I'm waiting for my friend to wake up, I'm watching Wild Wild West. Is there a more stupid movie ever made? The acting, the writing, everything- IT'S TERRIBLE! I want to gauge out my eyes just to end this suffering. Or maybe I should just change the channel.

Update- I went to Bumble and Bumble on my lunch break (I fucking love living in this city) and picked up some hair powder and I AM A NEW WOMAN!! It's fucking fantastic stuff.

Just thought y'all would want to know. Hair Dilemma- SOLVED.

I didn't wash my hair today. I tried a few new things to make it a little more bearable. Plus, I heard about this stuff that they sell at Bumble and Bumble called Hair Powder. You can spray it in your hair and it absorbs oils and grease. HOT!! I'm so going to get some.

There are a lot of pretty serious issues swirling around my life right now-
Lesbianism
Break-ups
Child Pornography
Divorce
Religion

To name a few. But I don't really feel like delving into any of them. Quite frankly, I'm so sick of religion, I'd rather stick a needle in my eye than discuss it for one more second.

On a lighter note- one of my dearest friends from high school recently contacted me and she is living in New York City! I'm pee-my-pants excited about this. She's a little Republican for my taste, but man, did we have a good time together at Girls' State! She's trying to get me to go to our 10 year high school reunion this summer. The idea is..... unappealing. I'm SO different from who I was in high school. I hate seeing people from high school (except for the people that I like). I don't like to play the Who's-Life-Is-Better game (even though I generally win). I don't care if you're married and who you're married to and how many kids you've popped out and how successful you or your spouse is. I DON'T GIVE A SHIT! It's all so superficial and ridiculous. If I want to feel bad about myself, I can find much more productive and meaningful ways to do it- like indiscriminate sex! That's really so much more enjoyable than pretentious conversations with people that I hated 10 years ago.

Okay, rant OVER!

Days since I last had sex: 68

OUCH!

I am thinking of making a major change in my life. I am considering...

Not washing my hair every day.

It's getting so LONG. It's a major pain in the arse to wash and blow dry every morning. Plus, I've heard multiple times throughout the course of my life that it's healthier for hair to not be washed every day.

I tried it out yesterday. And it drove me bonkers. Everytime I ran my fingers through my hair, I thought, "Ewwwww. Gross!"

Will I get used to it after doing it for a while? I didn't wash my hair every day when I lived in Russia and it was totally fine, but I also used about 1/4 of the hair product then that I use now.

Such a dilemma!

Side story regarding hair and Russia: Russian outlets work on a higher wattage than American outlets. I brought a converter over with me, so I didn't ever have to adjust the settings on my curling iron (I don't use one anymore) or hair dryer. One evening, I was over at another teacher's apartment, getting ready for the ballet with her. I turned her curling iron on high, like I turned on mine, not even thinking about wattage difference. As I picked it up to curl my bangs, I remembering thinking, 'Wow, this curling iron is hot!'. Then I placed my bangs inside the curling mechanism and immediately heard a sizzle. A little bit frightened, I pulled on the curling iron and watch in abject horror as my bangs came with it.

I had burned my bangs off.

I turned to the other teacher, horror and tears in my eyes (remember my vanity about my hair?)

She said, "Hair today, gone tomorrow!"

Conversation I just had:

Me: Hey Michelle, I saw an email address on your desk when I was staying at your place last weekend, Acertainperson at acertainperson.com?
Michelle: Yeah, I used to work with him at a theater in SoHo.
Me: Does he have curly black hair and always ties a scarf around his head?
Michelle: Yep, that's him. I was going to invite you to his show a few weeks ago. Do you know him?
Me: He's my ex-boyfriend's best friend.

Over the course of the next month, I want:

1. To Slow Dance with someone that I have emotional feelings for
2. An experience with hours of foreplay instead of the perfunctory 30 seconds
3. A kiss better than the best I've ever had (Mr. Wrong on my birthday, oh I hate him!)
4. To wake up next to someone and then proceed to have lazy morning sex
5. A promotion
6. To tell my family that I have decided that I don't believe in our religion anymore and not have them freak out
7. To stop yelling at tourists on the street
8. To get all the pictures I took at the Orchid Show printed and made into a book
9. To find some new music that I love, cause I'm sick of practically everything on my iPod
10. To stop reading anything into Email Boy's behavior

Wow. What an exhausting weekend. Quite frankly, just sitting here writing a blog post makes me feel unproductive, I feel like I should be walking around Manhattan trying to cram as much as possible into a very short amount of time.

My sister was here. And we had a fantastic time together. She met almost everyone that is important to me and even some that aren't so important (Mr. Wrong). I took her to all my favorite restaurants, my favorite haunts, and even let her shop in the gigantic bead store even though unless running for my life and looking for a place to hideout, I wouldn't have ever set foot in there. It's fun to be with someone who understands me completely and was just as mad as I was to discover that our father just purchased a Porshe boxster for Wife #3. There goes our inheritance!!!!

She saw the tattoo. I even told her that I've been drinking, and she was totally cool with all of it.

The best part of the weekend was last night. Email Boy came over. He wanted to meet my sister. He hung out for a couple of hours and we just laughed and laughed and laughed and took a ton of pictures. My sister thought he was super hot and charming. My roommate wanted to know why we're not married as she's never seen more compatible personalities.

After he left, he text messaged me the whole way home. He's so adorable. Can I love him? Even though I'm certain to get my heartbroken?

Labels: Email Boy

So, I was so busy recounting the events with Marc, that I neglected to you all what an unbelievably nutso weekend I had.

Friday night was me, Abby and her cousin Sophie in the Lower East Side. Some friends came to meet up with us, Jake and Mr. Wrong and later on- George. Mr. Wrong ended up punking out and going home- which is absolutely for the best, as he's mega-hot and I've been out-of-control horny lately and I totally would have hit that. We stayed late, doing shots and just going a little crazy. A direct quote from the evening:

Sophie is at the bar trying to get the last of our round of shots, there are two girls in her way-
Sophie: Excuse me, can I get in here?
Girl: Excuse you! We were here first!
Sophie: You wanna brawl? Let's brawl!
George: You guys are bitches.

The hilarity! I cannot stop laughing about that one.

Later, we all went back to Michelle's place, where I was house-sitting and crashed. Abby and I were in the bed, and Jake and Sophie took the couches. Jake came in to see if Abby and I needed anything. I was like, "Uh, no, we're good... unless you want to go down on us?"

He didn't think I was as funny as I thought I was. Abby and I were falling out the bed we were laughing so hard.

Saturday was almost identical, only add a little more alcohol consumption and people and amount of time that we were out. And no one crashed at Michelle's with me. Which was extremely fortunate when I was forced to catapult myself into the bathroom at 6 am for some serious spewing. Ewwwww. The next morning Abby called me, she was George's equally as sick. Told me to come and meet her there to commiserate with her.

I barely make it to George's without embarrassing myself in the taxi. Abby and I fall asleep in George's bed for a few more hours.

A few hours later. She fills her car to the gills and gives me a big hug that makes me almost fall apart with sadness that we won't be living together anymore.

4 days later, she's still driving cross country and I am missing her something awful.

It's a good thing the memories from this weekend aren't likely to fade anytime soon.

People that I know are getting divorced. How wacked out is that? I watched them fall in love, I went to their weddings, one of them, I even helped him propose.

It's a lot to think about. Even once you're married- there are no guarantees.

I've had a cold for over a week now. I blow my nose about 30 times a day and the snot just won't leave. It's always there. It's so irritating. And I look like an idiot cause I have to breath through my mouth. Poo.

My sister arrives in New York City tomorrow. I am spending every spare second that I have praying that religion doesn't come up this weekend. That we can have a great weekend together without her ever having to know that I've been having wild monkey sex (that's a total exaggeration, all sex had so far has been fairly subdued. I'm totally getting hosed in that department). I want to go shopping with her and take her to my favorite restuarants and just laugh with her at all the silly things that people say/do/wear around this city. Since she's married and has kids, this will be our first weekend together, maybe ever in our whole lives. It's going to be great.

Last night, Marc and I learned that maybe we did have the ability to communicate.

I was at Karen's. It had been a LONG, crazy weekend with insane amounts of alcohol and then subsequent vomiting. I was still sickish and exhausted and recuperating by conking out on Karen's couch during Gray's Anatomy. Another friend was over and a little hyper-sensitive. Her and Karen got into a fight, Friend had to leave, Karen had to let her out, there was a little more yelling at the gate that involved the word, "BITCH!".

Marc heard all this, since he lives directly next door to Karen and came out to see what all the commotion was about. They started talking, and Karen yelled up to me to take the cookies out of the oven and when I poked my head out the window, Marc said, "HEY!". I was so shocked at seeing him I didn't even respond. I just pulled my head back in the window and shut it. Then I realized that I was a being a big baby and this was a chance to set things straight. So I went down there.

As Karen and I were discussing the situation and he was listening, I could feel his eyes, searching my face. What was he looking for? What was he remembering? Karen then went upstairs. We talked.

At first, we pretended like nothing had happened at all. As if we just hadn't seen each for 3 months and there hadn't been any relationship altering text messages or emails. We talked about work and life and my tattoo (which he totally dug) and his plans for this coming year and everything except for the elephant between us.

Talk was winding down and he had dinner waiting inside for him. And then he brought it up. He was sorry, he said. He hadn't meant for me to take his text messages the way that I did. And then he said, "Why don't you ever come over anymore? When are you going to come and play Madden football again?"

Me: I don't know, I'm pretty crazy busy these days.
Marc: Will I see you again... soon?
Me: I don't know.

You'd think I could have come up with a more creative answer then the incessant 'I don't know'. But I was confused and I was afraid of showing too much emotion about anything.

I realized while we were talking that I couldn't look him in the eye. I couldn't let him see. I didn't want him to know that after all this time and all the tears and all the miscommunications, I was still in love with him.

Labels: Marc