The Virginity Monologues

Hello! I’m here! I’m alive!

I’m just tired, and battling a migraine. Last night I returned to NYC after a few days at home with the fam, for my mom’s 60th birthday. The migraine began the night I decided to crash on my brother’s sofa. And intensified on my flight to Chicago (where I had a layover) last night, which was complete with a great deal of turbulence and an extra hour’s worth of circling the airport.

I actually shed a few tears as the second leg of my flight landed at LaGuardia about 15 minutes early. I was HOME. And I walked out of the airport, immediately onto an M60, the lovely bus that takes me almost all the way home in under a half an hour.

And honestly, my life is pretty damn boring these days. I’m ridiculously busy and ridiculously stressed about work. I honestly can’t believe I made it to the end of last week still employed.

I’m still not dating and still absolutely LOVING my alone time.

Yesterday was Spatch’s birthday, so tonight I am taking her out to a new fondue place.

I am attempting to eat healthier, although I still cannot walk out of Duane Reade without a bag of some form of junk food.

I am still in therapy, and can definitely see differences in myself. Let me give you an example.

Even in non-dating times, there have always been men in my phone book who pop-up every now and then pretending to be interested in my life under the guise of wanting to ‘hook-up’. Cam. Mr. Wrong. Jay (my ridiculously hot neighbor). Generally, I will agree to see them. Especially when someone is as persistent as Mr. Wrong tends to be. (Yes, I realize this bullshit has been going on for about 3 years now). Partly because I have a ridiculously high sex drive and partly because it’s been a form of validation for me.

Side note: Mr. Wrong has actually been an incredibly interesting case study for me. Back when we were first ‘involved’, and I was desperately in love with him, he treated me fairly indifferently, only answering my texts/calls to him occasionally, and definitely treating me like garbage all around. Then something fairly major happened one night, and I stopped speaking to him. Almost immediately, the whole relationship flipped. He called me with a great deal more frequency (sometimes 10ish times a night), despite my stalwart refusal to talk to him. After about a year of ignoring him, I eventually gave in again and agreed to see him. But even then, I maintained the upper hand. I would agree to see him, then string him along all night, and then end up ditching him. All sorts of really evil things. And I knew I was being evil. And I absolutely didn’t care. This only went on for a few months, before I got tired of it again, and stopped seeing him at all.

He still calls, almost every weekend. And texts me constantly.

And, I have learned the value in playing hard to get.

Anyhoo- back to what I was saying. I had a few booty calls in my back pocket.

I’ve gotten rid of all of them. And it feels pretty damn good. I actually got into a big argument with Cam about it, who could not comprehend why I wouldn’t see him anymore.

It’s because, at heart, I am a relationship girl. If I’m sleeping with you, I want to be the ONLY person you’re sleeping with. I want to leave a toothbrush at your place. I want you to call me your girlfriend. Not your ‘girl’, not your ‘shorty’. Your GIRLFRIEND. I have to be true to me and what I want. And I do not want to be your girl of convenience. I want to be your everything.

So take your casual sex and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.

This shop is closed.

Today's Title from: You Got Me by The Roots