SVU

A boy who was a freshman when I was a senior was featured on this evenings Law & Order: SVU. He was a cold-blooded killer. When he was a freshman he looked about like this:
And we all thought he was the cutest thing ever. He's not the type I would tag for cold-blooded killer, but it was nice to see him on TV. I really want to send him a note telling him it was nice to see him on TV and a total surprise and I swear I don't see a lot of SVU, but have to get his email... I really do want to send this out of the kindness of my heart, Cherubs aren't my type.

break-time

In the midst of working a ten-hour day, the virgin asked me out again via email. I dated the virgin for a hot second when I mistook his silence for mystery when actually the silence was continually demonstrating his lack of opinion. It was a strange email where he apologized for leaving the underwear party early, in a huff, without saying good-bye. He left because he is, in my opinion (cause I have those,) totally hung up on a married woman. The married woman was flirting with some other apparently harmless boy-man who was not her husband which seems to be quite a habit of hers. I think I need some time away from that circle of friends.

Again

I'm not going to the gym today either. I'm not going because I am hung-over. I'm hung-over because I went to an 'underwear' party and needed to build up some courage for my non-bathing suit ready self. It was fine, but I wish I hadn't been so drunk.

After taking several shots in my apartment and before leaving to hang out with all my underwear friends (none of whom had any interest in seeing me or any woman in underwear), I called E. I was drunk, concerned about feeling attractive, and no one was here to stop me. I got his voicemail, thank God, and left a message mentioning the play Defiance, since I hadn't been to that theater since he and I saw Doubt probably about a year ago. So I told him I was thinking of him and if he should try to see the play because I would like to know what he thinks of it, in the spirit of being friendly.

I wish I hadn't cause I was feeling so cool until then, and it's not like I think E's brilliant mind could illuminate the play for me. But we had some good times seeing plays and talking about them which is pretty much my favorite thing to do. Today he sent me a text saying. "Hey your message was nice last night. Hopefully I will get to see it."

No she didn't

I didn't go to the gym today. I really meant to. I hate that my gym closes at 7 on the weekends. I hate that my gym closes at all. I think I would take advantage of a 24 hour gym, but there aren't any close to my place.

I got to see two plays this week which was great. Defiance is the new John Patrick Shannely play; he won the Pulitzer for Doubt, which is still running on Broadway with their second cast. It must be hard to follow up a Pulitzer and Doubt is the most perfectly crafted play I have ever seen. Defiance was good, but not as good. It came across like a bait and switch to me, I thought it was going to be about race relations then all of a sudden it was about duty. Still worth seeing.

Last night I got to see [Title of Show] at the Vineyard theater which was wonderful. They had me eating out of their hand. I loved loved loved it. I'm not sure how the reviews will turn out since it has a lot of 'inside' jokes. It's a musical about writing a musical, so I think most 'showbiz types' will love it, but JH(f) who I went with pointed out it could be pretty exclusionary to people who aren't 'theater people.'

On the other hand, it's been a long time since I've even heard of a non 'theater person' even going to a play...

Star-sighting

Liam Neeson, Natasha Richardson, Eileen Atkins and Lauren Bacall. All at one table. I love New York, and thank god every day that I don't have to wait tables.

Don't encourage her!

Tonight I went to a "networking" event. It's a thing set up by an outside source that makes you feel like it's totally okay to go to a bar by yourself in your work clothes, talk to other strangers for 5 minutes tops and move on with no hard feelings. It was okay. In my lucky work world doing an 'after-hours event' buys you a half day off, so it's pretty much worth it. I don't think we drummed up much business but you never know.

Afterwards my co-worker and I went to get sushi a few doors down from the bar event. I recounted my latest E story to her. She was there when both the "I'm sorry you feel victimized (with an understood: you pussy)" call went out, and for the first-steps text messaging. She said, "Are you guys going to get married?" Good lord, co-worker, don't say that kind of thing!

Within 15 minutes of returning to my apartment, E called. He said, "Don't worry I'm not calling to harass you like the other night." He just wanted the phone number of someone we went to college with. As a final salutation he said, "Have fun." I was reminded of yet another thing I hate about him. You don't say "have fun" when you mean "bye" or "talk to you later." What freak world did he grow up in???

I am very aware that I need to begin dating someone new or take up knitting. There are people who can blog about knitting for days.

pre-planning

At 2:30 am guess who calls? St. Matthew (my roommate) and I had just polished off a pint of Ben & Jerry's Coffee Heath Bar Crunch and had begun our 3rd Sex and the City season 4 episode (yes, he is the best fucking roommate in the world), and my phone rings. I was hoping it would be Mr. Aspirer. Nope, it was E.

"Oh, hi." He revealed he had had enough wine to call me. Big surprise, E, please, divulge more shocking facts. The conversation halted on as St. Matthew passed me notes: He Sucks, Wow, you almost sound interested, I am so glad I am not you right now. Then in a coup d'etat, St. Matthew shouted out upon giving up and heading to bed, "Good night, blondie" then soto voce, "Good night, douchebag" and I could not help but laugh a doubled over belly laugh. "What did he say?" asked E, and I told him. I thought of trying to lie, but a) I wasn't quick enough and b) I didn't care. It was very fulfilling.

He told me about what he's been up to and asked about work. He finally said that he wanted to extend the olive branch since the last time I saw him I told him I never wanted to speak to him again. "Yes, I was very mad at you." "I know, why?" This is where my pre-planning post of several days back became important. "You lied to me and that's a shitty thing to do to a friend." In beautiful douchbag fashion he said (paraphrased) "Did I lie to you or just omit details? (a pause where I hope he can hear his own idiocy) Because I don't remember lying to you."

In death as in life (of our relationship) who I imagine(d) E to be is so much better than who he really is.

At any rate, I feel like a winner. I am confident in how I navigated the conversation, though as always my revisions have more oomph than my first draft. I made it: he was contrite, I was not won over. I am ready Mr. Aspirer, give me a call.

Long weekend

My dear friend AC came into town yesterday. He's the guy that makes me slightly less contemptuous of movies like 'My Best Friend's Wedding.' He's the guy that everyone asks why we don't date. He's funny, sweet, one of the best human beings I know, hot, and we are totally, mutually unattracted to each other. It's a great testament to hormones. We went out to a bar in midtown to meet up with some of his aspiring musician friends. They talked about microphones, and then another aspirer showed up who I was attracted to and suddenly I was a lot more interested in the microphone conversation.

Unfortunately AC had to leave early, his grandmother isn't doing well, so we aren't doing all sorts of exciting things like meeting back up with the cute musician tonight. But, AC did give him my number since AC's cell phone has been acting up. A clever ruse. "Write down this number, you might need to reach me." See, he's a great guy, huh?

lil' bit

I'm a little bit bored and restless. Work was good today. I learned new things, and that was cool, but I'm beginning to feel that familiar tug. My addiction to distraction is here. I want a guy to obsess over, a gig to obsess over, anything to obsess over. I want the rush back. I don't want a settled life; I feel uncomfortable knowing I've started to pull my shit together and I want to see it hit the fan. I want the world to happen. Come on world, you have my number! And yes, I realize that I may regret saying this in the morning, but I need a little drama...

Your Valentine's Defender

Last night I went out with my dear friend JA for her birthday and ate at a very nice French Restaurant—in Brooklyn. I’m putting a moratorium on outer borough friends. To top it all off, this restaurant only accepted American Express, which would have been fine if the ATM (inside the restaurant) hadn’t been out of cash, and the exact same thing hadn’t happened to me Sunday night when I took my roommate out for his birthday dinner to a great Italian restaurant that had the same policy. American Express—as if. I also am in need of a raise and this sudden need to buy all my dear Aquarius friend’s meals with cash isn’t fun.

Enough vulgar finance talk though. The point was in the middle of the conversation someone said, “So, what is a blog?” I stood up for you guys, my friends that have made me laugh and cry and taught me several sex tips. “It’s sort of a new journalism,” I explained. I find most of the blogs I read to be very much on the level of magazine articles or better. That might also be because I haven’t been searching for high-school journal type blogs lately—you know, like mine. It’s important to me to blog anonymously so I couldn’t be totally outright in my defense of the form, but I think I did a good job overall.

Then JA tried very heavy handedly to hook me up with her roommate. I don’t know what kind of chance he stood since it has come to my attention that GW is living in NY. GW and I have nothing in common really, but he looks like this. To top off the evening I had another stupid IM from stupid E on my computer when I got home. E: yo. And my wonderful roommate felt it necessary to apologize (too much talking) for trying to drunkenly fondle me after the cash only dinner.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Again

E sent me an IM last night when I was out getting drunk with friends. It spurred me to write this letter that I think I shouldn't send and yet really want to:

Dear E,

I’m going to be very presumptive in this letter. If I am wrong, please forgive me.

I assume that our recent contact has been because you would like to rekindle our friendship. If that is what you are interested in it is important to address some issues. I was very mad at you for a long time. The last time we were trying to be friends you were lying to me. I asked you point blank when I was coming to your play if you had a girlfriend and you said no. Then you finally broke the news to me in the most inappropriate way possible—you didn’t fuck CH because you were dating someone?!?! At any rate, I am sorry to hear that your relationship ended (from someone else—as I also found out from someone else after the fact that you were dating someone the night of your play when you shamelessly flirted with me).

I was very angry at you the night you saw me drunk at the Christmas party. I was more angry when you called me after. The one time I didn’t take the high road, and told you to fuck off, you called me and (it seemed to me) asked for an apology. I think I was the one who deserved an apology, since I was infinitely more humiliated by the months of our less than honest friendship than you were by me being belligerent for at most 20 minutes.

You were a poor friend to me, E. Towards the end of our relationship you weren’t a great boyfriend either. This is of course, all in the past, and I would like to try to be friends again because I do care about you, and know all the good things about you too. If, however, you lie to me, or if you are only trying to reconnect because you broke up with your last girlfriend and want to feel better about yourself, let’s just stop right now. I hope this isn’t too harsh or bitchy, but it would be impossible to try to be friends if I didn’t get that off my chest. After you sent me that text message I had several bad dreams, and I realized it’s because I had never said any of this to you.

You wouldn't want to be friends with me after receiving that letter, right?

Another Saturday night

I avoided a party to watch 'The Cutting Edge' on the WB. This is the kind of person I am. In my defense the party was in Queens, so perhaps I was actually protecting my coolness factor by staying in Manhattan (even if I was watching the WB.)

Backstory

I grew up a little heathen child. It wasn’t until kindergarten that I learned the Golden Rule. When the teacher asked if anyone knew what it was I raised my hand and proudly recited, “Do unto others as they have done to you.” I vividly remembered learning it from Aesop’s fables book there was a picture of a fox and a bird. I remember her being shocked and saying, “No!” I was too young to be ashamed of her look or being wrong, I was just genuinely surprised I wasn’t right.

My parents and I only started going to church because I asked to after one of my friend’s from Brownies gave me those rectangular “you’re going to hell” comic books. She also introduced me to Garfield comic books so I genuinely believed her when she said going to church was important so we could stay friends after we died.

I think this convert identity of mine explains why I get pissed when I do unto others as I would like them to do to me and then they don’t return the favor. My sense of justice is more Medea than Martyr.

I need to feel loved today. Finding out about stupid E has upset me more than I’m comfortable admitting. All my dreams last night were a filled with that unsettled feeling in my chest. I treated him (for the most part) how I wanted to be treated, and it didn’t even register on his end. It was pearls and swine. Maybe if I had grown up hearing about the Good Samaritan rather than Cinderella (the original where the step-sisters end up maimed) I could turn the other cheek. I loved those fairy tales and my heretic inner-child wants to see him choke on the pearls. I want to rip out the idiot part of me that cares and stomp it bleeding under foot.

How many epiphanies before one really gets over someone they should never have loved? I’m hoping not too many more. I’m tired.

fitful

I didn't sleep well last night. I went to see the Seven at New York Theater Workshop with a sweet friend of mine who happens to be close to E. So, I got an update. He has indeed broken up with his girlfriend probably right around the time I received a 'just reaching out' text. Now I begrudge being nice to him. I wish I had withheld my friendship since it doesn't appear now that it was even my friendship that he wanted. He wanted to feel better since he totally fucked-up with some other girl. In these matters, the last thing I want is for him to ever feel better.

I have composed in my head all sorts of hateful things to say to him, but luckily my friend DW's advice prevailed. He's failed yb-school. Don't go handing out credits for free. So, because he's a drop out, sorry little child I am withholding my advice. Believe you me, he doesn't know what he's missing.

It's cold

It's cold in the office today. When I was walking up to the reception desk to ask them to warm it up a bit, I glanced into someone else's office and saw the "pipe" screensaver on their computer. Whatever happened to screen savers? Remember flying toasters?

It reminds me of middle school computer lab. If I had any internet savvy (which I'm working on--seriously) I would put up a flash of flying toaster and we could all share the nostalgia.

Dr. Cupid

So, have any of you noticed Dr. Phil's sneak attack on Valentine's Day. I have seen him on match.com ads and today he's giving romantic tidbits on MSN. Remember when Dr. Chunky was giving weight loss advice? All I can say is if I were his first wife (because yes, he has a first wife) I would be throwing a shit-fit. I bet they have bought her silence.

News

I first found out about this from the Daily Dave. It reminds me of this story. Now, I like to think of myself as an open-minded individual, but I can't help but think this behavior is really stupid. I can't seem to condemn it as a bad thing that no one was killed over the whole Piss Christ National Endowment for the Arts thing.

Funny thing: it just so happens that I heard a related conversation on the China Town Bus to Philly this weekend. This very loud and nasal girl who could not have been more than 19 was sitting behind me and talking very loudly to a guy who it seems goes to college with her. They talked the whole two hour trip. Luckily, I had my iPod to mostly drown them out. At the end of the ride the conversation veered from Chinese New Year to Christmas to Religion. The girl proclaimed herself an atheist and that being an atheist means that one does not believe in God and that they think Priests and Nuns are "wasting their lives." She went on to announce that someone should tell them that they are wasting their lives and that they should give it up and be "having fun." Luckily, and for the first time, they boy (who I think until that moment may have been trying to get in this loud-mouth's pants) said, "Well, here in America we believe in religious freedom and you can't just throw people out of their church." She bellowed back that she knew, but they were just "wasting their lives."

I decided not to join the dialogue with, "Do you really think that Mother Theresa wasted her life?" Because regardless of the yodeler's answer I would have said, "Then keep your Goddamn voice down."

I wonder if that makes me a hypocrite for feeling like the lives on all those trampled Muslims were wasted.

Ghosts

E sent me a text last night, and at first, I didn't recognize the number. It said "with brian. Hope you are good." It was 1 am, and I didn't respond to it. This morning at 9 I sent him one that said "Have a good time. My ___ pass has expired." I assumed the Brian was his brother and he wanted to use my get-into-NY-tourist-attractions-free pass that I got from my last job. This was bitchy on several levels: writing him when I didn't think he'd be awake, and assuming the reason he was writing. He wrote back "Just reaching out. Brian from the election. He asked about you." and a few minutes later "But I'm glad you think I'm totally self-serving." When being openly confronted about being a bitch I responded: "I assumed you meant your brother. I am not trying to be a bitch-it just happens." This was a lie. I was trying--and it apparently worked. He wrote back "Understandable. It's easy to think the worst." Ugh. Then he wrote "Bummer about the pass you'll never see BE (a putz friend of ours) again" I wrote "That was funny-and so very true" He wrote "Thanks." I felt we had navigated the waters well, that it was a good place to leave it. Then he wrote, "That is unless he needs a job" so I felt I had to respond and I said "you are on a roll-hope you are writing this stuff down" thinking that would be the end of it--but it was a misstep. He wrote "Im done. was that bitchy sarcasm is lost with tm" I had no idea what he meant, but assumed he thought I was being mean again when really I just wanted to be done with the 10 cents a text conversation. I wrote: "ok next time I will put a smiley face if you won't give me the benefit of the doubt :) Thanks for reaching out and being funny" Done. Period. Final Stop. He writes: "your welcome." While my initial reaction is to be enraged I think, okay fine. I said thanks, he gets to say your welcome. Then he writes some crap that again I didn't understand that says "your welcome as opposed to my welcome but really meaning... your welcome." I have no idea what the last one means, unless he was trying to make a play on your and you're but messed it up.

I checked friendster immediately. His new girl is still listed as 'in a relationship.' A-ha I thought to myself. But, I also recalled how I never changed my listing to 'in a relationship' the entire time I was dating him.

This shit is exhausting, no?

Moody

Have you ever been recommended a book by a friend that makes you think less of them? I just finished The Fuck-Up by Arthur Nersesian. I was supremely unimpressed. Maybe that New York is just not the New York I have known, but I didn't like the narrator, and therefore didn't care about his adventures.

It's also a very moody, what-is-this-all-for book. Now, I can love a well written what is this all for book. I love the Unbearable Lightness of Being, for example, which is a downer. The French Lieutenant's Woman, now that's a what-is-this-all-for book. Well, maybe the ones I like are more isn't-it-funny-that-this-might-all-be-for-nothing books. I guess that is a very different tone, but still.

I think the thing is that I want to be told something when reading (or living). If I'm taking the time to read your book, then I would like to learn something from you. It's an unspoken contract, I give the author my time and attention and they give me some intelligence--often that intelligence is simply that I can view the world through a different perspective.

My dear friend JA got a role at the theater I interned with post-college. I'm excited for her, though I think my feelings highlighted my dying love for the industry. You know when you find out that an ex is with someone fantastic and you think, 'well, good for them'? One part of yourself congratulates yourself for being so mature, and the other part realizes that the love you used to carry for the ex has died. That's how I felt about the theater when Jolly told me about her part. I gushed to my grandmother about JA's success, and she said, "I wish it was you." I didn't. I'm relieved it's not me.

When I was working in the theater one of the older actresses who I extremely admired once said it's sad when you realize that getting the part is the best moment of the experience. It was always the best part, to know that someone somewhere chose you. Then you had to deliver.

See, I just want my authors to deliver.

I'm back

After my highly anticipated weekend I'm back to being hopelessly bored and avoiding the things I should be doing. Data Entry--if I would just buckle down it will be over. But I like to draw out emotions (clearly) and do things while I have something else gnawing away at the back of my mind.

It's Groundhog day. Though Phil seems to think that this 'winter' temperature will last at least another 6 months. Oh Phil, what will become of us?

I need a hobby.

Puppies!

My boss brought her dogs to work today.

Yay!