Jaded

Just like every other single (and non-single) girl in the free world, my Sunday nights used to revolve around Sex and the City. I used to idolize the ladies, and when I moved here, emulated them in every way that I could.

It took me a while to separate the reality of living in Manhattan from what I had envisioned, but I eventually found my own way to be, and learned to just enjoy the show for what it is: a fantasy of what life would be like if there were endless amounts of shoes, bags, food, cocktails, and men.

But the one thing I now find most enviable is not the free-flow of Cosmopolitans and beautiful designer clothing, but that they managed to maintain their sanity and hope after living in this city for many, many years.

Now, let me say, I love this city more than anything. I have loved (almost) every minute of living here. There is always something to do, always a new spot to discover, always someone new to meet.

Lately, however, I haven't been able to escape the feeling that with every passing day, I am getting more jaded and cynical. With every jackass that enters and disappears from my life, I find myself growing more distrustful of people, men especially.

This disturbs me because some of my favorite people are the ones that are the most open, most trusting, most soft. And I am turning into the opposite of that. I am growing harder, more cautious, less hopeful as time goes on.

So if I were to stay here another ten years, I can only imagine what I would become: a reptilian shell of someone who mistrusts everyone she comes across.

I'm not quite sure how to counter this transformation, other than to surround myself with positive people and emulate them, instead of fictional characters from SATC. And surrounding myself with people I do trust and care about can only be beneficial, right?

I still can't help but wonder how long a single girl can survive in this city, plow through the assholes here, and still maintain a semblance of optimism.

It leads me to wonder if my mother was right all along and I should relocate to Alaska, where I can find some rugged, handsome man to keep my cabin heated, if you get my drift.

And hey, I bet I would be a real hit in the middle of Anchorage. There's probably not THAT much going on. Which also means it's going to be hard for me to find a place to get a gyro at 3AM on a Tuesday.

Not like that'll be my primary concern when I'm on my sixtieth day of complete darkness and I have my rugged boyfriend keeping me company.

And just like that, there's some hope in me after all.

Ugly Dudes

Ok, so I'm doing my regular Tuesday night ritual of watching The Real Housewives of New York and texting my friends snarky comments about the women that we don't like on the show (that would be you Kelly Bensimon - your owl jewelry is hideous!).

Then, my favorite, Bethany, announced her theory on dating ugly versus hot dudes, which is something that I have been pondering ever since my sister E suggested that I start dating uglier guys because there's less of a chance that they will be assholes in the long run.

E's Theory:

Ugly guys are so desperate and excited to get a girl that they will treat you well, instead of being players and assholes like the hot guys, who take getting a girl for granted. Yes, there is a chance of social awkwardness and nerdiness, but that's the trade-off in the long run for not having someone treat you like shit.

I have been rebuking her theory because, really, I just don't see the point of hitting on someone I find unattractive to begin with. That, and I'm scared of guys that live in their parents' basements with their giant collections of porn and Star Trek action figures.

Bethany's Theory:

Uglier guys are more problematic to date because they never get over their ugly duckling syndrome of not being able to get girls in high school, so years later their insecurities still surface. Therefore, even though they might be successful and good catches on paper, they have a high likelihood of having issues and cheating in an attempt to make up for all their personal self doubts.

The more attractive guys, on the other hand, are confident in themselves and when they finally commit to someone, they don't feel the need to stray. And all of those issues of feeling the need to prove oneself and be a cool player don't exist.

This is the first time I've ever heard this line of reasoning, especially since E has practically been beating me over the head to hit on the uglies at bars instead of, oh, the ones that I think are good looking.

Obviously, it's a very fine line to walk. Sometimes the uber-gorgeous guys tend to be the biggest players because they can get all the girls and they know it all too well.

But the more I think about it, the more it occurs to me that some of the biggest assholes I have ever known slash dated have been the ones that had issues of insecurity. Our problems always stemmed from the fact that they needed me to constantly reassure them, or that I felt they were trying to prove something to themselves, which I wanted absolutely nothing to do with.

The fact is I am an incredibly strong-willed and strong-minded girl and sometimes that comes off as arrogance or over-confidence. But that means that it takes a guy with a backbone to put me in my place when need be, and be totally secure on his own before he walks into a room with me.

Anyone that couldn't handle that is just going to look for validation elsewhere and that would inevitably lead to cheating, be it physically and/or emotionally. And needless to say, I'd never wish that on myself or someone that I'm dating.

So now, I am just validated in my conviction to continue to date attractive guys and snub the ugly dudes. And I have Bethany to back me up on that one. True fact.

Rebuke, E?

Decisions, Decisions...

This is going to come as a surprise to some, but I make shockingly good decisions. My problem isn't knowing what the best thing to do is; it's actually sticking to my guns when I decide something.

I tend to have these epitomes in a flash of genius, am proud for a few hours, and then promptly revert to being too lazy to go buy thank you notes so that I can actually send thank you notes, eating so much junk food that I feel sick, or kissing that guy because he has pretty eyes, etc, etc.

So I made a monumental decision recently to be honest to a fault, to not let anyone pull a fast one on me, to call people on their bullshit. And surprisingly that one has yet to fall by the wayside, though most people would claim my acts of honesty are really just because I'm innately mean.

I also recently decided to have a zero-tolerance policy for lying, and therefore to write off anyone that I didn't feel had my best interests at heart, and then stay as far away from those people as I could. That is the exact reason that I have repeatedly ignored Dry Cleaner Guy's attempts to get in touch with me.

But what has been hard about this one, is trying to call the moment that I am absolutely sure I am done with someone, and need to axe them from my life. It's not like a sitcom or a movie where there is blatant proof of lying and you're yelling at the protagonist to get out of the room. Unfortunately, most things in real life don't seem to be that clear cut.

Thanks to the wonder of modern technology and the Blackberry, though, I was fortunate enough to find out that someone I formerly trusted had blatantly lied to me in an outrageous manner.

And my first instinct was to blame myself, for not knowing any better than to believe him, and feeling stupid for having been that gullible.

I am fortunate enough, though, to have some absolutely fabulous friends who are wise beyond their years and I have summarized their collective wisdom in the advice they gave me:

Look you do the best with the information you’re given and that’s what you did. He lied to you and you can’t blame yourself for believing what he told you. There’s nothing you could have done to make him tell you the truth; some people just don’t know how or aren’t willing to do that. The worst thing you did was to take him at his word and that is nothing compared to the sins he committed against you.

At the end of the day, the only thing left to do is forgive myself and remain true to my decision to never speak to him again.

And buy thank you notes, because I think my friends deserve them, and really they would be quite handy to just have around for those thank-you-note-appropriate occasions that pop up out of nowhere.

So Awkward

The alternative title to this post was: Things Not To Say To a Girl You Are Trying To Impress. I thought that ran a little long, so this will have to do, but trust me the other title was certainly apropos.

I have this very cute single male friend P who for some reason has trouble getting girls. He's attractive, nice, gainfully employed, doesn't live with his parents, and is really very sweet. So really I had no idea why girls are allergic to him until last night when I decided to introduce him to my best gal pal R over a few pitchers of Sangria.

They seemed to be getting along, and I noticed some positive body language (turning towards each other, hand on the knee, holding hands) so I decided to leave them alone and do their thing.

At the end of the night they exchanged numbers and he insisted on walking her out to a cab, which meant they did a little kissing on the street. I was excited that they seemed to have hit it off and all was going well.

P confirmed this, by telling me that he really liked R and that he's going to call her next week to ask her out on a date. He asked me for advice on how long he should wait to call and where I thought she'd like to go out with him.

At this point, I was practically patting myself on the back for being two for two in setting my friends up.

That is, until R called to update me today.

Apparently the reason P has trouble with the ladies is he is majorly socially awkward. At some point she told him she was alternating between hot and cold in the bar and he said to her, "Why, do you have menopause? I lived at home with my mom when she had menopause, and I wouldn't recommend it. She had crazy mood swings and it was very difficult."

She was speechless, obviously.

It gets better.

After he put her in a cab, he literally texted her within the next five minutes and they proceeded to have the following conversation via text:

P: Hey, it was so great to meet you!

P: I had fun tonight. We have to do it again. Get home safe.

R: Yeah it was! Actually, I'm going to meet my roommate at a bar.

P: Oh, ok. Have fun!

Half an hour later:

P: Home or at the bar?

R: I just got home.

P: I'm home now too.

P: Lying in bed, but would rather be hanging out with you.

R: Why?

P: Because we were having fun and the kiss was nice.

P: Didn't you think so?

No response from R on this one...

P: Haha, have a good night. I'll speak to you soon.

P: We'll hang out when I get back to NY, but don't worry, I won't take you to that sushi place you hate.

Now, I think P is a great guy, but this definitely explains why he may be struggling in the female department. I thought most people knew that you don't really discuss menopause or text incessantly after meeting someone, but clearly P never got those important life lessons.

My new plan is to give him a list of things not to say or do to a girl that he can keep in his wallet and refer to whenever he speaks to someone of the opposite sex.

Because really, even after hearing the story and writing about it, I am still laughing over his text messages. He obviously means well, but has utterly no idea what he's doing.

Speechless, utterly speechles.

The Philadelphia Story

This past weekend I headed very slightly south to visit the little sister at her current stomping grounds in Philly. It was a beautiful spring weekend, which involved a great deal of ambling around outdoors.

I'm not sure if it was my bright white jeans, or my new haircut, or my sister in a short skirt, but at some point I noticed that everywhere we went guys were blatantly staring at us. At first, I just assumed that's par for the course on a college campus and the co-eds were mistaking me for a college student, or even better, a high schooler attending Admissions weekend.

But then when we were walking on the street to our hotel, it didn't cease. At some point, we actually got honked at. So now, I had to chalk it up to the fact that we were both looking particuarly fly that day, or way more likely, that guys in Philadelphia are not as smooth at checking girls out as the guys I'm used to in New York City.

I mean it, the men in this city have checking out down to an art form. Their eyes seemingly never stray from their blackberries, and yet they can report minute details about the women they pass on the street, down to a hot girl's bra size if so needed.

I have no idea how they do it, because when I check guys out it's the most obvious thing in the world. I haven't exactly mastered the art of being subtle, in any part of my life, so scoping out men is no exception. My friends burst out laughing in the middle of streets and bars because they see me pause, do the once over, and then assess whether he's hot or not.

Which leads me to wonder where all the men here picked up this skill. I mean if I stop paying attention for one second when I walk down the street, that's the moment that I trip over a fire hydrant or almost get hit by a bus. So, how do all these guys manage to multi-task to the point where they're replying to work e-mails and looking up the Yankees score WHILE checking out women? It's unbelievable!

Maybe I just have really bad peripheral vision and this is a sign that I'm getting old and need my eyes checked. Or I'm just not as observant as the average male on the street. Or I get distracted easily. (Oh, is that guy hot? I can't tell. Let me get a closer look. Oooh, a Mister Softee truck forget it! I want a vanilla shake!)

In any case, I am going to get to the bottom of this mystery, because if I can learn the secret to surreptitiously ogling people without them noticing, well, I think I am well on my way to a life of a secret agent.

Or at the very least, I can check out guys without the hassle of falling on my face in the process. Which is really nothing to take for granted once you've walked into as many garbage cans as I have.

The Laws of Attraction

I've been thinking about what it is exactly that attracts me to a person. Clearly if he's not-so-secretly psychotic or just a completely blatant scumbag then I'm totally taken in. Oh, and if you throw in a little unemployment, living with your parents, and/or sexual disfunction, then say no more, I am YOURS.

After years and years of dating assholes, I thought I had finally figured out why girls have an asshole attraction complex. It's this fantasy of being the one that finally reforms him, and the one person in the world with whom he's actually nice and caring and vulnerable.

Plus there's something ridiculously sexy about a bad boy who just acts like he doesn't care about anything, yourself included. Who needs a nice guy to treat you like a princess when you can get some hot guy to treat you like shit all the time?

Since I can't seem to get over my affinity for assholes, despite having figured out the psychology behind it, my sister has suggested that I start pursuing ugly guys, because then they will be so excited to get any girl at all that they'll definitely be nice.

I pointed out that these guys might not be used to talking to an actual girl in person, since they're only used to talking to their Princess Leia action figures at home, and she pointed out that a little social awkwardness is better than being a player.

I couldn't really argue with that point. It stuck in my head so much that last week when I was at a bar with a few friends, I saw a few uglier guys walk in, and I thought to myself, "Oh, they're not so attractive. I wonder if I should go hit on them. I bet they're nice."

And then I came to my senses. Because really, there is absolutely no logic in going to hit on the ugly dudes just because you think they might be nicer in the long run. At the end of the day, physical attraction is the starting point for any relationship.

Just so I don't come off completely shallow, there are other things that attract me to a person. I'm a sucker for anyone who is ridiculously talented at something that they have a passion for, be it music or science or art.

When I was in high school, I was madly in love with this guy who was not stereotypically attractive by any means - slightly overweight, curly hair, teenage acne. But he was the star of the basketball team and he had this beautiful tenor voice that literally made me weak in the knees whenever he sang.

I'm not sure if it's because of that, or just because girls like musicians in general, but I still cannot resist a guy who can sing. Which explains why I keep hitting on the stars of Broadway plays despite the fact that the odds are really against me there.

I guess at the end of the day, I can't explain the laws of attraction any more than I could prove the existence of perfect cuboids. But I think as long as I am aware of the traits that make me less rational than I already am, then I'm off to a good start.

And sorry little E and ugly men in general, but, I maintain my stance on my refusal to pursue ugly dudes. There are some lows that even I will not stoop to.

It's a Man Date!

So I don't know why, but one day my girlfriend R and I got it into our pretty little heads that my male bestie L needed more guy friends, and in the interest of helping him out, we should set him up on a man date. So we found a suitable candidate, D, thoroughly vetted him, and started plotting.

The original plan, aka "Operation: Bromance" was to invite both of them to dinner and then both have "emergencies" so we couldn't show up. However, because we are good people (fine, not-terrible people), we would leave them a list of topics at the restaurant that they have in common, including their jobs, sports teams, and a shared heterosexual love of showtunes.

But then last night R and I were out and texted D to see what he was up to and he agreed to come meet us for a drink. So we moved the plan onto the fast track and called L to come meet us as well.

L and D showed up to the bar and literally after half an hour, I left because I had an early morning. Ten minutes letter, R announced she had to go home, leaving L and D alone on their man date at the bar.

And yes, we are already aware that we are complete and utter assholes.

I wasn't too worried about L because he knows me well enough to know that I usually have something up my sleeve.

But D, on the other hand, totally oblivious, probably thought he was getting attention from two girls, meaning one of us was interested in him. And then he shows up at the bar to have both R and I be like, "Sorry we gotta go, but here meet heterosexual guy pal L. You two have a lot in common. Showtunes. Discuss!"

Within an hour of leaving the bar, I got quite the angry text from L about my deception, which was totally warranted under the circumstances.

So, today, when recapping with R, we reluctantly agreed that Operation: Bromance had been a total fail and we wouldn't be winning any prizes for good deeds in the near future.

But then I got a text from L that he had invited D to a party tonight. Which means they exchanged numbers and are going out again together. Which means that Operation: Bromance might have been a total success!!!!!

I'm expecting my thank you card in the mail any day now, although I'm not sure Hallmark makes a card that says, "Thanks for bailing on me and setting me up on a totally blatant man date. You're a great friend for caring so much."

Of course, the unforeseen consequence of this little experiment is now none of my guy friends will trust me whatsoever (as they probably shouldn't) and any time I ask them to hang out, they will probably make sure that I am not about to make up an excuse to take off and leave them alone with some dude that I have deemed suitable for platonic male companionship.

Nevertheless, I'm thinking I might have a career in this and I can set up my own matchmaking service for guys who want bromances. If you have a friend or brother or weird cousin or stalker or misfit coworker in need of my services, please feel free to send them in my direction.

Drama Drama Drama

For the record, I have made it my life's goal to avoid drama as much as humanly possible. I am already aware that I am a drama magnet, so by avoiding it I figure I'll have an average amount of drama in my life, versus the nonstop drama I have been faced with in the past.

Plus, I am still on my honesty kick, so when Dry Cleaner Guy called me after this weekend, I was tired of making up excuses and fake trips to avoid him.

So when he asked what was going on with me and when he could see me again, I told him as calmly and reasonably as I could, "Look I heard some disturbing stuff this past weekend about you, and there's absolutely no need to get into the details, but I feel that it would just be better if we didn't speak anymore."

I thought I had handled this very well, until he started freaking out on the phone and said, "Why? What happened? What did my brother say about me? What are you talking about?"

I sighed and told him, "We really don't need to talk about this, but your brother did tell me some things that made me uncomfortable. And not only that, he said some things to L that L obviously repeated to me later, and when my best friend is worried about me, then that tells me something."

At this point, the floodgates were opened and Dry Cleaner Guy started raising his voice: "You better be careful about what you're saying, because I am very close to my brother, and you are starting to tread in territory that you should stay out of. And what are you, like five years old? My brother and your best friend get together and talk, so therefore you don't want to see me anymore? Shouldn't you be talking to me about what's bothering you, instead of listening to gossip?"

And then he added, "Plus, my brother told me that he has a crush on you, so he was trying to make me look bad in front of you, and you shouldn't believe any of the shit he says. We're very close but he's really jealous of me."

I was totally over this conversation at this point so I told him that I had no interest in continuing it, and we hung up.

The fact is, I'm not buying the whole sibling rivalry things. I know the sibling dynamic can be very complicated and sometimes there is jealousy and competitiveness, but never in my life have I encountered brothers who claim they are close but then bash each other so blatantly when the other's back is turned.

And seriously, that was the best excuse he could come up with? My brother has a thing for you and was therefore telling you lies so he can get into your pants? If I had half a working brain, one would think I'd eventually figure out his brother was lying to me and then it would look pretty bad. But then again, I'm not sure Dry Cleaner Guy has half a functioning brain, so that explains that...

After the phone call debacle, Dry Cleaner Guy still texted me, "Hey, can we get together and talk face to face? Tonight? Tomorrow? Or never if that's what you prefer."

I chose not to respond. Just as I've chosen not to pick up the subsequent THREE phone calls. I think that should make my never pretty clear. Though you never know with these half-brain people.

Here's my rationale for flat-out ignoring him: He already knows that I'm pissed and I want nothing to do with him. From what I know of him, he is only upset about this because of his massive ego. He has plenty of other girls in the mix, so I don't matter that much to him personally. He just wants to be the one to end it, and not be the one who got rejected.

Since I have already made my stance pretty clear, he is only calling me repeatedly in the hopes that he can tell me off so he can maintain his pride. And by denying him that right, I am hurting his ego more than anything else I could do.

Which, I gotta say, is pretty awesome.

Think Of My V As a Vase

So tonight, my girlfriend R and I were both watching The Real Housewives of New York while it was airing and texting each other commentary throughout the show.

One of the girls we find hilarious, Bethany, is single and dating in New York City and makes a passing comment that her new sex policy with guys is that they should think of her v(agina) as a vase. If they want access, then they need to send flowers.

And of course, this sent R and I into a furor of texting:

R: Think of my V as a vase!!

S: I'm dying. It's our new motto: Think of my vagina as a vase. If you sleep with me you owe me flowers. Omg R think of all the guys we'll never be allowed to sleep with again.

R: Oh, I know!

S: Fact: If flowers were a prerequisite for sex, you and I would never get laid again.

R: Fact: If I waited until the second date, I'd never have sex.

S: Hmmmm, then our new motto isn't looking very good.

We then proceeded to wonder why in the hells Kelly did her jogging in the middle of Fifth Ave, as in she takes up the left lane and has cabs surrounding her, while she's pleasantly jogging, oblivious to the fact that she's stopping traffic and that if the taxi behind her would man up, he could run her over.

S: Seriously,why is she running down the middle of Fifth Ave? Why isn't that cab running her over?

R: I don't know!

S: I will pay any one of those cabies $50 to drive past her at full speed, so they don't kill her, but just freak her out.

So to sum this episode up, R and I adopted Bethany's theory on sex for about ten seconds before we realized that it would prevent us from having any sex ever. And now I have to find a cab driver I can bribe to drive really fast past Kelly when she is jogging in the middle of a lane on Fifth Avenue.

It was a really productive hour of television watching on a Tuesday night.

And yes, I am already planning on starting a liveblog where R and S comment on crappy reality television as it occurs in real time. It's going to be a hit!!!

Even the Good Ones...

Sigh.

A long time ago, about a year ago, I briefly dated a guy that I will call for our purposes Double J. I was very into him at the time, a complete smitten kitten, and when it all fell apart because he started seeing someone else, I was pretty devastated.

Looking back on the situation, it all worked out for the best because the week Double J told me he had a girlfriend was the same week that I went on my first date with Goldsomething. And he ended up being the greatest boyfriend ever, so it ended up well.

Despite all good intentions to stay friends, Double J and I lost contact. Until today, when he im-ed me to see how I am doing and catch up.

Apparently, he broke up with the girl he stopped seeing me for, but is now involved with someone new and it's getting serious.

Which is pretty uninteresting except for this:

He followed up with some sexual innuendo suggesting that should he ever break up with his current girlfriend, he would like to leave the door open to have sex with me at that more convenient point.

I ended the conversation abruptly after that, but it's been nagging me since.

A year ago, when I started dating Double J, I thought he was such a good guy. He was sweet, considerate, complimentary. He called when he said he would and apologized if he was late. If he couldn't call, he would text to say why he couldn't call and let me know when he would call. I have rarely been party to such attentiveness.

And he more than fulfills all of my current requirements (minus the single one): he has a great job at which he is very successful, an amazing one-bedroom condo, and no sexual dysfunctions whatsoever.

So yeah, Double J is totally a catch on paper and physically adorable, which explains why I was so into him a year ago, I mean that and the bright blue eyes. I am such a sucker for pretty eyes, but we already know that.

My first clue that he wasn't as sincere as he seemed, though, was when he let on that he had been dating another girl while he was dating me, and didn't have the courtesy to tell me about her for three weeks. And then, today, after the online flirting, I realized that I could never trust this guy.

I mean, at the end of the day, he didn't do anything blatantly wrong, and he spelled out that he wouldn't cheat on any girl that he's seeing, but there is something fundamentally deceitful and skeevy in his behavior.

Which means that even the guys I thought were good, are still scumbags. On top of the guys I already knew were scumbags. Which means they are all scumbags.

Which brings me back to my original sigh. Sigh.

Furiosity

So, cutting to the chase, I agreed to get one drink with Dry Cleaner Guy since he wouldn't let up on me and I figured if I had one beer with him, it would get him off my back for a while.

I went to meet him at a bar where he was with some friends and his brother, who I had never met before. About five minutes after I arrived at the bar, Dry Cleaner Guys disappeared to "have a talk" with someone and left me alone with his brother and their pals. Sketch much?

It ended up working out fine because it turned out that his brother and I had the same sarcastic sense of humor, and hit it off immediately (in a completely platonic way - sorry, this is NOT a story where I end up hooking up with the brother, I am not THAT girl).

Dry Cleaner Guy returned and asked me how my trip had gone. I momentarily blanked on the imaginary trip I had just taken and had to remember where I had just supposedly gone. I then proceeded to make up details about said imaginary trip that I had just gone on.

After about an hour, Dry Cleaner Guy announced that he was taking off to meet some friends for an open bar and invited me to tag along, but I declined, since I had no desire to spend the rest of the night with him. Plus, it was getting hard to keep track of all the lies I was telling about my fake emergency trip out of town.

So, all by my lonesome, I was about to leave, when his brother pulled me aside to have a chit chat.

"Look, S, I really like you, so I just wanted to warn you against my brother. He's a good kid, but he's kind of immature and I don't know you that well but I wanted to tell you that you are not on the list of girls he would want a relationship with."

I was slightly astounded by this confession, more so considering I would rather die a long, painful death than get into a relationship with Dry Cleaner Guy, but there was obviously no reason his brother would know this.

Me: How many girls are there on that list exactly?

Dry Cleaner Guy's Brother: Well, he slept with a girl he really likes a few nights ago, and there was another one last week...he sleeps around quite a bit. His crowning achievement was the time he slept with 30 girls in 40 days.

Me: Omigod, so he's a total manwhore.

Dry Cleaner Guy's Brother: Kind of...but really he does like you. He thinks you're really smart, which is why he doesn't want to date you.

Me: Excuse me?

Dry Cleaner Guy's Brother: He's really arrogant, so he doesn't want to date anyone who is superior to him in any way, and he knows that you're smarter than him, so he doesn't want to date you.

Me: That is, by far, the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Which shouldn't be surprising because your brother is an absolute moron.

Dry Cleaner Guy's Brother: (laughs) He's just young and immature.

Me: So here's my question. If he's not interested in dating me and he is already sleeping with a plethora of girls, then why is he putting all this effort into calling me and trying to make plans with me?

Dry Cleaner Guy's Brother: Well, he thinks he's a player, so he wants another girl in the mix.

Me: So basically he wants me to be another notch in his bedpost.

Dry Cleaner Guy's Brother: Pretty much.

Me: But I've been trying to blow him off.

Dry Cleaner Guy's Brother: Oh yeah he knows that. That's why he keeps calling you, he can't let YOU to be the one to blow him off. He NEEDS to be the one that rejects you.

Me: That is so ridiculously dumb and petty.

Dry Cleaner Guy's Brother: I told you, he's completely egotistical.

Now, even though I had just met this guy, I trusted that he wouldn't be spilling any of the shit I had been talking to his brother, since he was by far doing worse.

Which is quite frankly worrisome, because I am fiercely loyal and protective of my little sister, and if anyone said anything about her, I would not hesitate to punch him or her in the face. So the fact that he was so willing to lambaste his brother to me meant that either they aren't close (which they seem to be), or that his brother is actually a terrible person.

And it seems that the latter is the truth. Ok, calling him a terrible person is kind of extreme, but he is definitely a giant douchebag who is under the impression that he is some kind of awesome player.

The fact that he has been pursuing me purely to add me to his list of conquests offends me both personally and as a woman. It's male behavior that I've never particularly understood and that I simply cannot abide by.

Yes, there are some men out there that I would LOVE to sleep with and would brag about until the end of my days, but they consist of people I will never realistically come across in real life, like George Clooney and Brad Pitt.

As far as he knows, I might actually like him and be busy, you know, taking last minute emergency trips and whatnot. Which means he is putting on a facade of being interested in me just to get me into bed, and is willing to hurt me emotionally to do so.

And why? Oh yes, because I'm SMARTER than him. What a dumb reason not to date someone, because they're too smart for you. And seriously, I think most second graders are smarter than him, so I'm not exactly sure what kind of girl he would deem to be appropriate girlfriend material.

Now that I think about it, the whole thing is kind of psychopathic. And the guy definitely deserves some sort of award for douchebaggery.

I was unsuccessful up until this point, but I am absolutely done with Dry Cleaner Guy now, and for the first time, I hope he does call, just so I can calmly tell him that he is a completely scumbag and such a waste of my time it's laughable, so will he please delete my number and never call me again.

Uh Oh

So I was in the midst of sending a text message just now when I had a very scary epiphany. Followed by a scarier question:

When exactly did I start acting like a guy?

I don't want to be a guy. They smell, they adjust themselves in public, they are immature, they are inconsiderate, they don't get to wear pretty shoes, they quote Family Guy all the time, and apparently some of them think it's perfectly acceptable not to wash their hands after they use the urinal.

Because of all the above reasons, I am usually pretty happy to be female. And when someone says, "You are acting like such a girl," I take it as a compliment. Unless it's someone who really meant it in a derogatory way, in which case I kick his ass.

But recently, it has been pointed out to me that I've been exhibiting some male behavior. For example, I've been acquiring a lot of phone numbers but not calling any of them. I've been slightly flaky with guys I make plans with. And I've been dating guys I have absolutely no interest in just for the hell of it.

One of these such guys is Dry Cleaner Guy, who is pretty uninteresting and moronic, not to mention the fact that he lives with his parents in Long Island. And oh yeah, he called me arrogant and egotistical.

So he's been calling me in an attempt to get a follow-up date, and I have been elusive. Then yesterday I inadvertently picked up his call and we had the following conversation:

Dry Cleaner Guy: So, are you available on Tuesday for lunch or dinner or drinks?

Me: Errr, no Tuesday is no good...I have...errands to run during the day and dinner plans at night.

Dry Cleaner Guy: What about Wednesday?

Me: Oh Wednesdays are never good. All my friends get together to watch Lost.

Dry Cleaner Guy: Busy girl...Thursday?

Me: (Racking my brain for an excuse...can't...think...of...one...) Uhh yeah Thursday works, I think. I have to check my schedule...

Dry Cleaner Guy: Oh great, so let's say Thursday!

Me: Uhhhh sure.

At first, I thought maybe I'd just go out with him and suck it up. But then I remembered this would require actually seeing him and conversing with him for a few hours, which meant I would have to listen to the incredibly mundane details of his life and get harassed about being "arrogant."

And honestly, I'd rather lie on a bed of nails. Or get water-boarded. Or get attacked by a swarm of hornets. Or sit through a Kevin Costner movie marathon. I think you get the drift.

So I waited a day, and then sent him the following text: "Hey I have to make an emergency trip and will be out of town for the rest of the week. Raincheck on dinner."

And that's the moment I realized I had become a guy.

First of all, I was lying about an imaginary trip in lieu of telling him the truth that I would rather bore holes into my brain that sit through another dinner with him.

Second of all, I actually used the phrase, "Raincheck on dinner."

Third of all, when I sent the text message, I had absolutely no intention of ever rescheduling before hell freezes over. I was just going to never call again and refrain from picking up his calls. Which is behavior I have criticized quite vocally in the past.

This is not good. Soon I am going to have to change my name, watch Sportscenter instead of The Hills, ogle women in public, and start calling guys "bro."

Oh, what a very bleak future I have ahead of me.

Border Control

So last night, girlfriend R and I went out to a bar to watch the NCAA game, and by watch the NCAA game, I obviously mean we were there to scope out the guys while they were watching the game.

Like lions in the bush, we spotted a defenseless herd of males in the corner, and slowly made our approach. When one of them "accidentally" bumped into me and apologized, we all started chatting and it was game on.

True to my declaration to start grilling guys on my short list of requirements, I made small talk for a little bit and then turned to the one that R thought was hot and said, "So where do you live?"

Guy: Long Island

Me: Wait, Long Island? Do you live with your parents?

Guy: Yes, I do. Is that a problem?

Me: Yes. Do you have a job?

Guy: That's kind of a personal question. You're very direct aren't you?

Me: Just answer the question.

Guy: Yes, I do have a job...

Me: But you're in your twenties and you still live with your parents in Long Island?

Guy: Yes.

Me: I see.

At this point, R and I made eyes at each other to signal that this guy was obviously completely lame.

Then R returned the favor and asked the guy's friend (the one I found attractive) if he also lived at home with is parents. He replied that he does not and he lives in NJ.

I was relieved until I started digging deeper. He lives in central Jersey, but works in the city, which is odd, because most people who commute to the city and live in NJ live in Hoboken or Jersey City, not an hour and a half away in the middle of NJ.

Me: So why choose to live there, instead of Hoboken?

Other Guy: I grew up around there.

Me: Do you live right by your parents? Are they like ten minutes away? Do you see them all the time?

Other Guy: Er, I see them often.

Me: Like how often?

Other Guy: Ok, ok, I didn't want to say anything because you were making fun of my friend, but I live at home with my parents.

Me: AHA! YOU LIED TO ME!

Other Guy: I didn't lie...I just knew that you wouldn't talk to me if I told you that I live with my parents...

Me: Which, uh, means that you said something that was the opposite of the truth, which in my world constitutes a lie.

Other Guy: Fine, I lied.

At this point, I am seriously considering celibacy. Or sterilization. Or lesbianism. I haven't decided, but I need to break out of this pattern of finding these guys who live at home with their parents. It's like a moth to a flame where I'm the flame and the moth eats spaghetti that his mom made every night before watching Deal or no Deal and going to sleep in the room he grew up in.

So, even border control was a complete failure because shockingly, guys LIE.

Plus, they think it's kind of weird and creepy when you start grilling them right off the bat about their job and living situations. And I didn't even get to my question about sexual malfunction!

All in all, it seems to be a lose-lose situation. Back to the drawing board...

Things I Am Obsessed With At the Moment

As it slowly thaws out in NY and all the signs of spring start appearing, I am reminded of why this is my favorite time of the year. Daffodils start peeping out from the ground. Trees start to look leafy green again instead of just being intertwined networks of barren twigs. I can go out at night without being burdened by my winter coat.

And best of all, people seem to come out of hibernation and enter society anew. All of a sudden, the streets are full of people walking. Bars and resaurants reopen their outdoor areas, which means one thing: outdoor drinking and a plethora of happy hours.



My excitement over the onset of spring has led me to think about the other things that I am obsessed with right now:

1) Animated 3-D movies. Amazing. And I was just excited by the free nerd glasses. But I highly recommend Monsters Vs. Aliens for laughs and Coraline for its visually spectacular stop-motion animation.

2) Finding the perfect milkshake/burger combo in Manhattan. Right now, Shake Shack is in the lead but the Burger Joint is a close second.

3) Elizabeth Gilbert. I'm currently reading Eat Pray Love for the fifth time.

4) Modern, artistic, statement jewelry. My recent purchases include Prismera Design, Erica Weiner, and Odette. I appreciate the goods because they're pretty and reasonably priced, but the fact that they're all made by New York artisans is just a bonus.

5) Anything and everything written be Aaron Sorkin, especially The West Wing.

6) Lady GaGa's Poker Face.

7) Sula Paint and Peel water-based nail polish. It goes on more smoothly than every nail polish you've ever used, and doesn't have any smell whatsoever. Plus it's really fun to peel off - reminiscent of those days back in elementary school when you would peel Elmer's glue off your hands.

8) Supercomfy cotton t-shirts from the Gap. I love my clothes to be comfortable and soft, which is why I have amassed a huge collection of Splendid and C&C California tops over the years.

And I never thought I'd say this about the Gap, considered it hasn't been the cool place to shop since I was in fourth grade, but the shirts in their spring line are so soft, wearable, and available in a slew of cute solid colors and stripes.

9) The greatest TV show on air right now: MTV's Taking the Stage. It follows five high school students in the Cincinnati School for Creative and Performing Arts (Sarah Jessica Parker's alma mater), the real life reality version of Fame.

On the very first episode, a fight breaks out in the cafeteria, but oh no no, instead of having a fight, someone hits the play button on a boombox and all of a sudden we are in the midst of a DANCE OFF. That's right, folks, an actual dance off. Need I say more?

10) The idea that summer is right around the corner and there are many fun trips to the Hamptons, the Vineyard, and Fire Island in store.

Humble Pie

So I am fully aware that I do my fair share of complaining, more than my fair share according to L, but here's an interesting fact about me:

I love my life.

As in not in any superficial, I'm-just-saying-that-until-I-hope-it-comes-true kind of way, but I really love my life. I think it's pretty fantastic.

Inevitably, I get down every once in a while and I need to remind myself of how ridiculously fortunate I am. Without any hint of bragging, I have an awesome apartment in the middle of the greatest city in the world, hilarious and simultaneously brilliant friends, the bestest and funniest sister in the world, and the opportunity to pursue all the things I love from travel to writing.

It wasn't always this way. A little over a decade ago, I was that incredibly scrawny and awkward girl wearing tortoiseshell glasses and shiny braces who was eating lunch by herself in the girls' bathroom while reading my Advanced Math textbooks. Feel free to pity me while laughing at the picture I have painted.

But puberty, contacts, and straight teeth gradually helped me to break out of my shell and become the extroverted lady I am today.

The one downside is that yes, I do come off as very confident to the people who know me.

But the other day, on a date with Dry Cleaner Guy, I was pretty shocked when he said to me,

"Do you always come off this confident? My first impression of you was that you're kind of arrogant, egotistical, and full of yourself."

Initial Thoughts: Not something you want to say to any girl on a date.

Follow-up Thoughts: It's that stupid double standard coming into play again where when a guy is confident, it's an asset, but when a girl is, it's a terrifying symptom of some sort of horrible psychological disorder.

Also, if a guy who has only known me for a short period of time already thinks that I'm too self-assured and has felt the need to point it out to me, he's probably not someone I want to be associating with in the future. Especially since, without being judgemental (because Lord knows, I am NEVER judgemental), he probably has some insecurity issues himself and isn't used to being around girls who speak their mind.

Further Follow-up Thoughts: Despite rationally knowing all of this, for some reason, I couldn't get this guy's words out of my head and continued to dwell on them in the ensuing days.

My main concern was that he might be right, and I might actually be arrogant, and that would explain why I scare away good guys and attract the crazy ones like a moth to a flame.

But then I remembered that it took me years, and a great deal of disaster, to get to the point today where I can go through an entire day of criticism and rejection, and still wake up the next morning and be excited about what is yet to come.

So, if Dry Cleaner Guy can't handle that, then that's his problem, and not mine.

Because once again, I love my life.

In a totally humble way, of course.

No Way!

I've definitely come into acquaintance with more than my fair share of undatable guys, but I'm pretty sure none of them topped the list, or was as blatantly clueless as Epic Fail.

So imagine my surprise when my Facebook informed me the other day that he is now in a relationship!

I then went through Kubler-Ross Five Stages of Grief, as anyone would when faced with such devastating news.

Denial: My immediate reaction was obviously disbelief. I was convinced that he had created a Facebook profile (what kind of crazy person does that?) so he could have an imaginary Facebook girlfriend. It wasn't until I saw actual pictures of this girl tagged in his photos that I believed she exists in the real world.

Anger: After confirming that the supposed girlfriend has a human form, I contemplated what the hell is wrong with this girl. She looked normal enough in the photos, but what kind of desperation lingers under the surface? I mean what kind of idiotic, desperate girl would voluntarily agree to a relationship with him? Does she have a death wish? Does she WANT to be made into a life-size body pillow?

Bargaining: I wanted to find out as much as I physically could about this girl, but there weren't many ways for me to do that outside of calling Epic Fail and asking him, or grilling his friends.

Which, of course, reminded me that the last time I saw his friends, I made out with Dirty Irish in the middle of a bar. And as tempting as it would be to call up Dirty Irish and ask if he knew anything about this girl, I was pretty sure that the last thing I needed was another crazy guy in my life to replace the one I had just gotten rid of.

Depression: At this point, I became really worried about my own situation. Now, seriously, this is the guy who not too long ago called me in the middle of the night crying about how I didn't like him.

He is in almost every way a total fail. He is unemployed, lives with his parents, makes out with other girls at bars, can't spell, is quite possibly an alcoholic, has confirmed that he has hardcore ADHD, has major clingyness and desperation issues, all in addition to being an actual moron.

And yet, this guy had managed to find someone who was willing to overlook all those issues and willingly participate in a relationship with him. Which just led me to wonder exactly what must be wrong with me. Which is never a good train of thought to get started on.

Acceptance: And after all of this, I just came to the conclusion that this girl is probably just as crazy as Epic Fail is, thus explaining why they found each other and are now together. And really, I had nothing to be upset about.

After all, I was the girl that "broken up" with him at least two times, the first of which I promptly made out with him just to mess with his head, and the second time when I made him cry in the middle of the night. Plus I made out with his best friend in public...

(And yes, just to confirm for the umpteenth time, I am a total jerkface - really, SUCH an asshole.)

So there's absolutely no doubt in anyone's head that I am the one who blatantly rejected Epic Fail, and deemed him as less than worthy of my time because I have standards (sort of). And I have absolutely no reason to doubt myself, or feel anything about this new development.

Well, other than happy for him that he actually found someone who is willing to let him call her his girlfriend in public. And concern for her well-being. And pity that she is so hard-up she needs to settle for Epic Fail. And relief that at least one more crazy in New York is off the market.

But really, other than that, I have no feelngs whatsoever and am totally over it.

Totes McGoats.