Spoke Too Soon...

Yep that's officially the last time that I go and wax optimistic about something because it inevitably turns to shit right after that. You'd think I would know better by now, but apparently not...

Client Boy asked me to spend Sunday with him before he had to go to an event, so we made plans to meet for brunch and then take in a museum, a cute Sunday date. I was really looking forward to it and feeling all warm and snuggly inside about him.

I called him on Saturday night to confirm our plans for Sunday and never received a response. Then I called again on Sunday half an hour before our pre-scheduled meeting time, and his phone was off. Instead of waiting at the restaurant by myself, pathetically waiting for him to show up, I canceled the reservation and assumed he'd call me later with an amazing excuse.

Sunday morning, afternoon, and evening passed, and still no word.

Heinous, right?

Today, at 6PM I finally heard from him. He told me he just wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone yesterday and he knew it was totally immature, but didn't even have the decency to call or text me that he wasn't feeling up to it. That was it. No cranes collapsing, no dropping phone in the toilet, nothing chaotic or disastrous. He just didn't feel like it.

After a fun weekend with very little sleep, I'm too exhausted to really feel any way about it except exasperated by the immaturity of all the man-boys in Manhattan.

Ode To My Girlfriends

Last night, something truly monumental happened. After weeks of being away with busy work schedules (work? what's that?) and my impromptu disappearing to tornado-ridden cities, my girlfriends and I finally went out together after weeks of well, apart-ness.

Not only did we have a fun time going out together, but it was absolutely wonderful to catch up with them and fill each other in on all our recent escapades. I hadn't realized how much I had missed having my girls around for support and how much I needed E to tell me to "get my shit together" to my face.

I'm one of those girls who got along better with guys than with girls all through high school and college. I always had more male friends than female ones, and my little sister E remarked recently that this is the first time she remembers me having really good girlfriends, which was a relief to her.

Although I still have some great guy friends, I have discovered that being a single girl in Manhattan absolutely requires having a close support group of females in your life. They are the only ones that truly understand the ups and downs of dating and the man freaks that exist in New York City. And I'm lucky enough to know some of the city's most beautiful, smart, and successful chickas in the world (that's right - my friends can beat up your friends). It's all very SATC (Sex and the City, for you non-acronym folks), but I couldn't imagine my life here in Manhattan without my ladies.

Something Different

After getting several complaints that my blog was getting depressing (thanks friends, I appreciate it), I was venting to my pal S and he said that it was ok, but he could tell that I was going through some sort of crisis from my writing lately. He said it seemed that I was going through a lot of self-retrospection. I suppose I have been in a bit of a funk lately, just from frustration with the dating scene in New York, and assorted other issues that come along with being a grownup (will I ever get used to it?).

I have complained to S in the past about the crazy guys that I have been meeting, and he told me a while ago that when the right guy came along, I would suddenly have no desire to blog about him and that's how I knew it would be special. I just laughed it off at the time and told him it was crazy, but it turns out he might have been right.

I've been seeing Client Boy on and off for a few weeks, and we recently started seeing each other regularly. It hit me out of nowhere today that it might actually be something, and I had this intense desire to keep it private, in the hopes that I wouldn't jinx it or anything.

He's a good guy and I thoroughly enjoy spending time with him. I'm enjoying taking it slow and seeing where it goes, without any real expectations.

The Ex-Factor

Tonight I did something utterly stupid that I should know better than to do: I went out for drinks with an ex-boyfriend.

Just to give you a little backstory, we went out for a year about eight years ago and hadn't seen each other in about five years. After college, he joined the army and is currently on leave and visiting his parents in the city, which is why he reached out to me to get together. We broke up after I cheated on him and ended up dating the guy I cheated on him with for three years, so needless to say, we didn't have a great breakup and the last time we saw each other, there was still a great deal of resentment and anger.

I figured after all this time he would be over anything that had happened, but it turns out these things never really die. I was drinking profusely to counteract the awkwardness of the situation, but it didn't really work. He told me that I had been a basketcase while we were dating, therefore making me a terrible girlfriend at the time, and that all his friends hated me(not surprising, when you throw in the cheating factor).

All in all, it was uncomfortable and weird and the only thing I really walked away with was that I have no idea how I dated him for so long years ago. Also, we probably aren't going to be meeting up again any time soon, partly because he is going abroad for at least another year, but partly because I have no desire to subject myself to his company again.

When I recounted the events to my friend J, he laughed and told me this is exactly why he has a policy of not seeing his exes. Nothing good ever comes out of it. I'm inclined to agree with him and am considering adopting this policy as well.

Spontaneity!

Tonight I thought I was just going to have a calm, mellow Tuesday, but boy was I wrong. My night started with grabbing a happy hour drink with B. Then I went to see Client Boy briefly before he went to a concert and meet his roommate, who had been out of the country for a month, which was why we had never met before. As I was leaving, B texted me to come back to the bar and meet her because we were going somewhere.

Assuming that we were going to another bar or she wanted to go dancing or something, I went to meet her. When I asked her where we were going, she smiled mischievously and told me, "I want to get a tattoo. We're going to go get me a tattoo." I was taken aback momentarily and then responded, "Ok, where should we go that will still be open?" If I know one thing, it's that after B has set her mind to something, there's no talking her out of it.

This was how B and I ended up wandering around the East Village, drunk, looking for an open tattoo parlor that didn't look like it would give her hepatitis. We finally found a reputable place that was still open and as we leafed through the artists' books, I decided in the moment that I wanted a tattoo too.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting in the chair, squinting in pain, and trying not to flinch because that would permanently mar the tattoo I would be stuck with forever. Of course, this wasn't before one of the greatest moments of my life: B sitting in the chair in complete pain as she got the sensitive part of her foot tattooed, in her bra (she was having hot flashes so she took her shirt off), and singing the Dixie Chicks at the top of her lungs while she listened to her iPod and clutched my hand. The tattoo artist and I just looked at each other and shook our heads, trying not to laugh too hard.

Thank goodness I woke up this morning, looked at the tattoo, and loved it. I sent a picture to my little sister E and she said she loves it and was kind of jealous. It was the best response I could have hoped for, since I'm stuck with it, well forever.

It's Raining Men!

I will never understand the way these cycles work, but some nights there are so many guys texting and calling me that I am totally overwhelmed, and other nights, crickets.

The other night, I was seeing Client Boy, who I hadn't seen since before my trip to Atlanta. We had talked on and off while I was gone and after my return, but with our busy schedules had taken a while to see each other again.

While I was hanging out with him, I was texted by not one, not two, but THREE guys that I hadn't heard a peep from for the most part in a while. Alumni Boy wanted to see what I was up to which I responded, "Where's your girlfriend tonight?". That shut him up real quick.

I hadn't spoken to or seen Slingarm since my birthday and deciding I was completely done with him. He started texting me out of the blue and I chose to just ignore the texts (applause, applause!).

Then, after weeks of not hearing from him, out of nowhere Moneybags started calling me to let me know he was in the city and he wanted to see me. I told him I already had plans and maybe next time, he should call in advance and actually make plans. Despite the pissy response, he continued to text and call me until 8AM the next morning (?).

Then the following night, when I didn't have any plans and decided to stay in and catch up on my Netflix, of course, that night was silent as could be. It's really true what they say, that it never rains, but it pours.

Thoughts On Philanderers

I know it's a fact that people cheat, male and female alike, but recently I have been hit on by a surprising amount of taken men. Not only has it baffled me, but now I'm wondering if there are any trustworthy men out there after all.

Last night, I went out with B to our usual bar and started talking to a random group of guys at the bar. Totally coincidentally, they were from my alma mater but graduated before I had even gotten there. Nevertheless, we hit it off reminiscing about our college days and the disgusting dorms we lived in. One of them in particular, Alumni Boy, was paying a lot of attention to me and any time I ventured a few feet away, he would promptly call my name. As B said, he was "obsessed."

The funny thing is when he started talking to B and I, he told us he had a "roommate" that we later discovered was a live-in girlfriend of two years. That didn't stop him from talking to me all night and then asking for my number at the end of the night but with the caveat that we would have to "keep it under wraps."

At the same bar, I had a guy hit on me who B later found out was married.

As if that wasn't enough, the other night I went out to an event with a platonic friend of mine who is engaged. I have hung out with him numerous times, met his fiance, and we get along great. We've always had a fun, flirty, casual relationship, but this night he made an inappropriate move on me and I suddenly realized that this friendship wasn't as platonic as I had thought. He actually said to me, "You are so sexy that you make me want to do bad things to you."

This guys is getting married in six months! As I recounted the story to my girlfriends, they were in shock and we all collectively mused over whether there were actually decent, loyal guys left in Manhattan.