The Virginity Monologues

Today is my last day.

Tomorrow is my first day.

And for as much as I’m enormously excited, I’m also very sad.

I started working at The Company 2 months after I moved to NYC on a temp assignment. Through a stroke of luck, I ended up getting hired on permanently and forever made my parents proud. The Company has been through some pretty difficult times in the last few years, and somehow I have made it through unscathed and constantly been moved to positions of more responsibility.

I can’t believe I’m leaving. I have defined myself with this job for so long, I feel like I’m losing a part of me.

I just have to keep remembering that something new and exciting and wonderful is just around the corner for me and in 6 months I will be ecstatic to have made this move.
Today's Title from: Complicated by Robin Thicke

My life is in major upheaval right now.

Remember how I dubbed this, The Year of Me? Well, I wasn’t kidding around about that.

Last Friday, I gave my 2 weeks notice at the company that I have been employed at for the last 4.5 years.

Next Friday I start a new job. In fashion. The promised land. I’m so excited, I’m jumping out of my skin.

In the meantime, I’m saying a lot of goodbyes and preparing myself to leave something behind that has been an enormous part of my life for a long, long time.

Bear with me while I struggle through the next few weeks of major adjustments. I’m still here, just stressed.

Today's Title from: Have a Party by Mobb Deep

Dear Oscar,

I can’t remember the last time you didn’t have a hold over me. I don’t remember what its like not to ache for you. Not to miss you. You are my continual bruise, occasionally I just run my fingers over you, marveling over the depth of the injury, and sometimes I poke and prod, examining the layers of pain hiding underneath the surface.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that you, and please don’t be upset, but you’ve been fading. Its been an interesting journey, and there were moments when I wasn’t sure that I would ever feel whole again. Melodramatic, yes, I know, but it’s the god’s honest truth. I can listen to that song, the one that reminds me of you, without the accompanying searing pain in my chest. I pine for you only when I’ve been drinking heavily and that’s because I pine when I’m drunk, and you’re the easiest thing to pine for. There’s no more tears. Every day it gets easier and easier to NOT dial your number. There’s only a residual ache and a fondness for your face and that crook in your neck.

I hope you’re happy. I hope you find it within yourself to become the man I know you want to be.

Love,
Chloe

Today's Title from: So Long by Guster

Labels: Oscar

I have shin splints. It’s from the running. I’ve been running a lot. I’ve discovered a few secrets that I wish I had known the last few times in my life that I attempted to be a runner.

1. I cannot run every day. I absolutely must take a break in between running days. This has proven to be my most effective tool for not burning out with my running.

2. I have to eat within a few hours before I run. I cannot run on nothing. I’ve discovered that the best trick is these 100 calorie balance bars that I eat about a half an hour before I hit the gym. Perfection. Sustenance without being too much. Plus they’re only 2 points. HOT.

All total, I’ve lost 12 pounds. In 4 weeks. I’m ahead of myself to make my goal by December, but I figure its going to slow down at some point. Plus, I’m not going to have this level of will power forever. At some point I’m going to stop believing that Diet Coke is an acceptable alternative to a chocolate milkshake and that my movie theater popcorn is desperately in need of some butter.

Overall, things are going well. I’m seeing a new therapist that I adore and has declared herself to have great faith in me and is incredibly solution oriented. I like her spunk and her youthfulness and that I feel very safe with her.

However, I’m not going to lie. I’m in a bit of a rough patch. For one thing, I’m hungry all the time. ALL THE DAMN TIME. I feel like no matter how much I eat, I could still eat a TON more. Its unpleasant.

And there’s something else I can’t identify. I’m feel… unsettled. Almost all my thoughts these days are preoccupied with the idea of going on a date, holding a hand, or running my hand across a bare back. I long for a crush, SOMETHING to occupy my mind, so I’ll stop thinking about Oscar. In my head, I know I’m not really willing or ready to date at this point. The rest of me is aching for affection. It’ll pass, right? I just have to get through a few tough weeks, right?

Today's Title from: So Far to Go by J Dilla

I have a confession to make. I’ve always hated Mariah Carey and her incredibly diva-ish ways. But, as I am reading this week’s People magazine, which is plastered with pictures of her “Secret Wedding”, I find myself feeling envious. That’s right, I’m jealous of Mariah Carey and not just because she dated Derek Jeter.

And no, I don’t want to be married after dating some ridiculous ladies man for 6 weeks. But, they both look so ridiculously happy.

I have never felt that way. I’ve never even felt a smidgen of that.

I am very quick to get on friends’ cases because they allow their relationships to take over their lives. I get mad at friends who suddenly disappear when in new relationships, pissed that they don’t make time for me. I’ve always deeply rebelled against the idea of letting a man/relationship become the focus of my entire life.

However, I have no frame of reference. Having never been hit by The Mac Truck of love/lust/infatuation, its easy to be on the other side, shouting, “you should be a better friend!” when its always been easy for me to maintain my friendships due to my own personal lack of involvement in my relationships.

Whenever friends ask me for advice on their relationships these days (which, strangely, is often), I am always happy to tell people what I think, but I always add this caveat-

“But, keep in mind, I have never been in a successful relationship.”

I mean, what do I know? Nothing, clearly. How do I know, that when/if this elusive emotion ever does come down the pipeline, that I won’t behave like everyone else? That I won’t forsake all friends/acquaintances to spend time with this mythical creature who adores me as much as I adore him?

I am getting antsy-ish, about my affectionless life. For the most part, I am content and totally fine with how things are right now. But, I have my moments (doesn’t everyone?) where I pine, I ache for a tender touch. I think, “maybe I’m ready to try something again”.

Then I remember- the disappointment, the sleepless nights, the searing pain, the mistrust, the tears, the pure unadulterated anxiety, and I think, “nah, I’m not ready to go down that road again just yet.”

And yet, I am still jealous of Mariah Carey.

Today's Title from: Thing About Love by Alicia Keys

I am deliriously tired.

Monday night was the last time that I had an hour to myself to just sit and chill. That’s right, Monday. That was 3 days ago.

Tuesday night- I met up with Spatch directly after work and the 2 of us hit the gym together, then headed out to Brooklyn for happy hour and dinner at the most delicious barbeque restaurant ever- Fette Sau. Mmmm. I just think of the pork and my taste buds immediately begin producing massive quantities of saliva. It was that good.

Last night- I trudged all the way out to Brooklyn again for a meet-and-greet that Dooce was doing at a bar in Prospect Heights. I got there, I saw the incredibly long line and how unbearably slow it was moving, just to shake someone’s hand who will never again remember me, and I immediately turned around and headed up to Harlem. Pissed that I just wasted an hour and a half. But glad, because now I was going to have time to go to the gym. WHO AM I? I am not a person who makes going to the gym a priority. I’m not going to lie to you- I’m a little scared of this New Me.

Side note- I went to Subway the other day. I got a turkey breast on honey oat, no cheese and fat-free honey-mustard instead of mayonnaise. Which was weird enough. THEN, and if you know me at all you will probably not believe this, as I stood at the register, I found myself asking for a combo (because I have been having MAD Diet Coke cravings) and asking the Register Man, “Can I have apples instead of chips?”

APPLES instead of DORITOS?!?!?!

I almost wept.

Anyhoo, last night, after an hour-ish at the gym, I dashed home, got together all my laundry, including the sheets and comforter from my bed and headed up to the Laundromat. The Exterminator had sprayed my room that morning, so washing at this point was imperative. (Yes, I still have bed bugs. Don’t even talk to me about it, because I will start crying). While my clothes washed, I ran back home and ate some dinner.

Around 11:30, I lugged it all back home, put my bed back together, put all my clean laundry into Bed-Bug Protective plastic bags, and then crashed.

Tonight, I am going to the gym, because today is a Run Day. And my training schedule requires at least a 20 minute run. Which I feasibly could have done on my lunch break, but I don’t like to sweat that much at lunch, so I went to a yoga class instead which actually was hard enough that I still ended up sweating too much. So, I’ll go run after work. But, I haven’t seen my friend, Betsy, in a while and I miss her. So I texted her last night to see if she wants to hit the gym with me, then grab dinner.

I did it to myself! I can’t even help myself!

And in the meantime, every single muscle in my body hurts.

Today's Title from: Bullet With Butterfly Wings by Smashing Pumpkins

Other than a few of the visits with my former therapist (starting with a new one tomorrow! So excited!), I can’t remember the last I had myself a good cry. Well, actually I can and it was the week after The DJ Debacle. Which was almost 4 months ago.

Four months since the lowest point I may have ever reached in my life. Four months since my relationships with Oscar and The DJ blew up simultaneously.

Destroying me.

So, I got off the horse.

And except for 2 unspectacular dates with The Trainer, I’ve stayed off the horse.

And it’s been the best 4 months of my life.

I’m busier than I’ve ever been. Ever.

I’m ridiculously content and just all around- HAPPY, which may be almost exclusively due to the working-out endorphins, since it has never been very long since my last gym visit.

And I don’t know if it’s because I’m so uninterested in dating that it emanates from me, but I’m definitely “OFF”. I NEVER get hit on anymore. The even weirder thing? It doesn’t really bother me. The less I have to deal with all the bullshit- the BETTER.

Something is different. And I can’t put my finger on it. I can’t identify it.

But I like it.

Today's Title from: It Ain't Hard to tell by Nas

Dear Oyster Bar-

Wow. I hardly know where to begin You were something else last night.

First of all, your hostess. Is she always that rude? I recognize that you are in Grand Central and your restaurant is heavily populated by tourists and believe me, I KNOW how fun it is to be mean to tourists. But, I am not a tourist. Neither were either of my 2 friends. Don’t treat us like we’re insignificant. Kay? It pissed me off. Especially when only about 5 minutes after she told us it would be a 30 minute wait, she was screaming my friends name across the bar, as if we had somehow wronged her. Ugh. She was spectacularly unpleasant.

But, we were pleased to be seated earlier than anticipated after our extra hard workout, having attended a 30 min abs class after our usual hour in the dance class. We sat down, we excitedly discussed our options. Our bus boy was quite attentive with our water glasses and the bread bowl, while we waited for our waiter/waitress to show up. And waited. And waited. And waited.

We tried to flag down multiple other servers while growing more and more irate, asking them to please find out waiter and send him to us. Almost every single person we spoke to was rude, insisting that they weren’t out waiter and essentially being completely useless. It was HOT.

Finally, I took matters into my own hands. I found the restaurant manager and asked him to please send a server to our table. Immediately. Luckily for him, the manager was cute and both of my friends agreed that they would happily have sex with him (not me though. I’m not particularly partial to the white and skinny), so we did not unleash our wrath on his cute face.

And then, glory be, a WAITER arrived! He took our order! The heavens sang! My friends’ oysters arrived. And all was good in the world. Then, the empty oyster shells were taken away. And we eagerly anticipated our entrees. And waited. And waited. And waited. Meanwhile, drinking glass after glass of wine, because we had been promised comped drinks and dessert.

After waiting way too long, we saw a waiter approaching. We saw on his tray 2 lobsters and a covered dish. This HAD to be us! And it was! Yay! And then, my friends’ lobsters were COLD. COLD LOBSTER that should have just barely been pulled from The Steamer. My food wasn’t exactly on the hot side either, which means, it had been just sitting there forever. You guys really know how to treat your guests, don’t you?

And so, the lobsters went back while I dug into my spectacularly unremarkable shrimp that I was paying a totally unwarranted $27 for. That’s right. $27. For shrimp and some steamed veggies. Ahem. That’s highway robbery. Thanks.

By then, we had a designated waiter who was doing his absolute best to make up for the sins of his predecessors. He was great. If I ever go back, I will ask for him. However, I will never go back. EVER.

I don’t care that your pecan pie was delicious.

That was, hands down, one of the worst dining experiences I’ve ever had. It’s a good thing for you that Spatch and Ana are the exact friends that a person would want to be with when stuck in this situation.

Thanks for nothing.
Chloe

So, as I’ve said in almost 100% of my last 10 posts, I’m kinda a busy girl. Especially these days. As the weather gets warmer, my social life tends to explode. Work has been hectic. And I’m trying to get in as much gym time as possible. I’m not going to lie. It can be… overwhelming.

Let me help you to understand what I’m talking about.

Last night, at the beginning of the day, my only plan was to hit the gym and head home after work. For my 5K training, I had to get in at least 20 minutes of running. By later that afternoon, I’d added dinner with Spatch to celebrate her last day at her job before she begins an amazing new job with lobsters at Essex House after the gym at 7:30.

At dinner, I asked her if she wanted to go to Trader Joe’s with me. I’ve been devouring this website recently, www.hungry-girl.com, and they had strongly endorsed the Trader Joe’s 100 calorie chocolate bars. And trust me, I am a girl who needs her chocolate fix. So after dinner, we headed up to Union Square, where we meandered around Trader Joe’s for a while, only to be incredibly disappointed because the 100 calorie chocolate bars were all out of stock. L

As I walked out of Trader Joe’s, Nicole called, wanting me to meet her uptown. So, I took my multitude of bags and hit the uptown A train. After spending about an hour with Nicole at our favorite local hangout spot, I heard from Betsy, who I haven’t been able to see much of lately, wanting me to meet her and her roommate at another nearby restaurant. It’s about 10:45 at this point.

I jump into a cab and meet Betsy and her roommate for a few very quick (and very tiny) bites of cheesecake.

Around midnight, I crash (literally) into bed.

And somehow, I managed to stay within my points. God, I love Weight Watchers.

Did I mention I’ve lost 7 pounds?

Today's Title from: Work it Out by Jurassic 5