Sunday, May 31, 2009

Can't Kiss Frogs Any More

I had a pretty horrible date on Friday with this guy... and it was kind of my fault. He was a creepster and I should have known it from a get-go when we were sitting at a bar and he was fidgeting in his bar stool, telling me about an all-night rave that he went to in Detroit a few days ago. Now, I've been to an occasional rave myself.. but at his age of 29, I'd advise him to keep his mouth shut or talk about, oh, more age-appropriate activities, like drinking scotch with his co-workers or flying to Vegas for a best friend's bachelor party.

Of course, the vodka tonics I had the stupidity of consuming kicked in at the most inopportune time, and I thought that the rave story was rather "charming". So we go dancing afterwards and he proceeds to get sloshed and then complains at the end of the night about a $60 dollar bill. First of all, it's ONLY 60 dollars. Second of all - duh, the drinks are not, and will never be, free. Not to you, creepy 29-year old who attempted dancing on an empty dance floor and clapping your hands as if you still were at an all-night rave. I was not drunk enough then to not feel the wave of embarassment from the raised eyebrows of the bartenders when you were making a fool of yourself. Trust me, a 60 dollar bill should be the least of your worries.

Unfortunately, I took pity on the guy after all and let his sleep it off on my couch in apartment because he was in no shape to drive. On a side note, I really should stop going on dates to establishments near my place, because somehow, mysteriously, everyone always ends up mentioning how they are "too tired to drive" or had "one too many to feel comfortable driving".

The next morning I walk out of my room and what do I see? Yeah, he's still sleeping on my couch, two empty beer bottles on a coffee table in front of him. The freeloader found my Coronas in the fridge and decided to drink them, after I fell asleep in my room. He also found my frozen pizza I keep in my fridge for snacking emergencies, threw the remains of it out, not into a trash can, but into my bin of art supplies that was stored nearby, ate the remains of my bacon and oh yeah, when my best friend called me at 3 in the morning, he answered the phone, told my friend that "She's busy" and hung up.

Of course I found out about the phone call later, after he left and my friend called once again, sick with worries. When I woke the freeloader up, however, the only thing I was pissed about was him drinking my beer and eating my pizza.

"You should probably go get you car," I told him, after poking his side a number of times before he finally woke up.

"What time is it?"

"It's almost ten... you should go get your car or it will get towed," I didn't even know where exactly he parked his car, nor did I really care. I needed him out of my apartment pronto.

I finally did get him out. Thank. God. No more of this, no more vodka tonics. No creepy dudes that eat my food at ungodly hours of the night and make my friends think that I have been left dead in a ditch somewhere.

Of course, I receive a text message from him later on in the day, "Anytime you wanna hang out just let me know. Again thanks 4 letting me stay at ur place. Ur an amazing woman." Anytime I wanna hang, huh? How about never? Does never work for you?

After he left I had this feeling like I wanted to scrub my entire body with a bar of soap or with an industrial size ultasonic cleaner (but those are more expensive...) and just spend the entire day soaking in a bath tub. I felt like his germs somehow transposed themselves on me and were now crawling and multiplying on my skin - always multiplying, never sleeping as if they were at an all-night rave.

As I was nursing my killer hang over, I got to thinking about all of this. Why am I such a serial dater? Why do I not go with my gut instinct and just end my dates early when I know they are going down into a gutter? Frankly, I am still getting the skeebie-jibbies just thinking about the 29-year old and his creepy ways - and those are not the kind of memories I want to be making. I can honestly say that, if I could turn back the hands of time, I would NOT go on a date with the over-the-hill raver. I can also honestly say that vodka tonics are now the latest additions to my list of no-no drinks - taking their well-deserved place right next to tequila.

The only good thing about my lazy, non-productive Saturday, spent, interchangably, between contemplating hurling my insides into my friend The Toilet and spending my time on a couch in a semi-coma, was a text from Mr. January. But that's a whole another post in it of itself.

After all, in all of the array of bad and forgettable dates, in a medley of guys who do not call me back and the guys who call too much, Mr. January is the only man capable of breaking my heart. And for now, I kind of like it that way.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

He Loves Me Not

I have been thinking... and thinking and thinking and thinking... and I can't stop thinking about him - my friend with (phone) benefits - Mr. January. He's been popping up on my mind more often than usual lately. I thought about him on Wednesday when I came across an article about the law school he got accepted to and I thought about him again on Friday, while I was having dinner with my friend. I even thought about him again yesterday when I was out on a mini-date with a new guy.

It was sometime during that last delicious scoop of the mint chocolate ice cream melting in my mouth that I looked at my date and I silently wondered to myself just what flavor of ice cream it was that Mr. January preferred. I couldn't find the answer off the top of my head and I made a mental note to ask him about it the next time I talk to him. I was surprised at my wandering thoughts because I was having a perfectly good time with this new guy, yet here I was... sitting at a cafe, thinking about another man.

That night I even went as far as looking at Mr. January's profile on Facebook. My first tell-tale sign that I like someone is when I check their Facebook just to see if they had any recent activity - status updates, personal info changes. While I was doing that, I was mentally beating myself over my head with an imaginary shovel because I was fully aware of the warning sign. I cannot, simply cannot, allow myself to like Mr. January. We're totally casual. Just friends.

Nevertheless, when my phone woke me up with its vibrations around 1am last night, my fury of being unceremoniously woken up was quickly replaced with joy when Mr. January's name lit up on the caller ID.

"Hello?" I tried to stifle my excitement and attempted to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Hey, are you still out?... Or did I wake you up?" he inquired.

I was beginning to feel very eager to talk, as it is on very rare occasions that he calls me twice a week. In fact, just earlier in the night I was thinking about how I should resist texting him, since we had already spoken once on Wednesday. I tend to adhere to our unspoken once-a-week-conversation rule pretty religiously and now I am beginning to realize that this rule needs to remain firmly in place if I want any real chance of not getting too attached to this guy.

"No, I was in bed but wasn't sleeping." I lied to him in response.

"Oh good, I was hoping you'd be awake. I miss talking to you," he sounded almost tender in the way he said it. Of course, my mind might have played tricks on me in my still half-awake state. Then again, Mr. January has always had a way of sounding like he gives a damn about me... without ever actually making that much of an effort to pursue any kind of relationship, beyond friendship.

I guess what I am trying to say and am afraid to admit is that I kind of like Mr. January as more than just a friend or a friend with benefits. I guess it saddens me a little knowing that, realistically, even if we both wanted to be with each other on more serious terms... it would be pretty impossible considering our current respective career goals and aspirations.

I've liked him in some capacity for five months now... and five months is a pretty long time to feel passionate about a person. I've seen this attraction, not diminish, but grow stronger over time. I don't want to fall in love with him.

I will not fall in love, I will not fall in love... repeat, repeat, repeat until it's working.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Good Days Taste So Sweet

1. I got a second chance. Plagiarism is the thing of the past. I am allowed to continue writing for the web site. I even got an advanced payment on my most recent (not plagiarized) article.

2. I got a second part-time job at a high-end boutique, selling women's clothes. I cannot wait for my employee discount to kick in so I can FINALLY buy my summer wardrobe, as well as a new cell phone, new headphones, new Coach bag and a really awesome T-shirt fom Lady Gaga's web site.

3. I was offered an opportunity to put together a biography and a presentation for the next recipient of the 2009 Athena Award. I am elated to get a chance to write about a guy who's considered to be a near-legend in some academic circles.

4. I got a guy's number. Or to be more exact, he got mine. A friend of mine and I were happy-houring at this restaurant downtown and this guy was there with his work buddies. We locked eyes a couple of times. Then I went to the bathroom, and as I was walking out, he was in line to use the men's room. He immediately struck up a conversation with me and, as it turned out, he just moved to Louisvillea couple of weeks ago for a job, just like I did. He asked me for my number and I asked him skeptically, "Why?"

"So I can call you up and we can hang out, of course," he smiled.

It's great to feel like I am worth something - professionally and personally - and be able to back that feeling up with recent accomplishments. I'm flying high and I am grateful for every second of it.

What a good day.

Monday, May 18, 2009

My Life. In Ruins.

I'll keep it brief as I am not much of a whiner. (Yeah, right.)

I am in the middle of a shitstorm that started this morning when the content manager for a web site I publish articles for informed me that I was guilty of plagiarism in at least two of my works. My entire writing portfolio is under a strict review and my fate will be decided within the next week. The best possible scenario I can hope for is that I will be allowed to continue my writing and continue collecting revenue from my already-published articles. The worst case scenario is something I do not even want to think about and that is, I will no longer be allowed to write for the web site and all of my articles written over the last two and a half years will be deleted.

The problem is - I did plagiarize, though I didn't see it as plagiarism when I wrote the texts. I frantically checked all of my articles ( about 200 of them) in a plagiarism finder type of software, upon hearing the alarming news. I found at least eight articles where I spotted plagiarized phrases. The content manager informed me that, as he looks through all of my articles thoroughly, he will be able to forgive me if there are only a few instances of plagiarism. And I am afraid that while 90% of my work is completely original content, those eight articles might just be the straws the break the camel's back.

I'm sorry I, unknowingly, plagiarized. I really am. I really feel like if I am no longer allowed to write, a part of my identity will be taken away from me. I have been as passionate about writing and I am about architecture and lately, I have been writing daily because I just have that fire inside of me that urges me to write and write and write. I don't want that part of me to be taken away. I despise my situation because I am the only one who contributed to my own demise.

Keep your fingers crossed for me and I promise to never ever plagiarize again!

On a personal note, my love life is heading down the toilet as well, though with interesting consequences of which I will speak later, when my mind isn't so preoccupied.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Best. Date.Ever.

I'd like to reminisce for a moment and go back about two years ago, to what I often referred to, up until this point, the Best Date Ever. You see, what made it so good was the fact that the guy made the reservations, showed up on time, complimented me on looking absolutely fantastic, pulled out my chair for me, paid for everything, smiled just the right way, talked about all the right things. The chemistry was so electric that night that I could have jumped his bones right then and there. When we decided to stop by a sophisticated cocktail lounge after our magic dinner, I realized that what made out date so good was one thing and one thing only - I didn't feel like just some girl, I felt like an extraordinary woman. That feeling was like a drug. It spread from that tickle of butterflies in my stomach up to my heart and throat and brain and down to my tippy toes. I could almost see Disney-like sparks in the air that night and, up until now, I was afraid that I would never experience that magic again.

It all changed last night, when I drove out to Indiana to go on a date with the Club Guy whom I met during the Derby week. I was reluctant, I was not sure what to expect - after all I had to drive for 90 minutes to the house of an almost-complete stranger. I packed my trusty pepper spray with me but was still apprehensive and unsure what the night might bring.

I arrived at a jaw-dropping, brand-spanking-new house... no.... mansion would be the more accurate word to describe his 5 bedroom, 3 bath house. I was startled when I pulled up to his drive-way - he told me he had money and I should have guessed that he wasn't lying because he kept ordering Grey Goose in the VIP just a week before, but so many guys brag about money that they don't have that I don't ever pay attention to anything related to financial matters that comes out of a guy's mouth. I am also very skeptical of those who try to impress their dates with their money - I am and never will be a gold-digger. If you have money, that's awesome - if you don't, all I am asking is that you have that drive and ambition to eventually get somewhere in life. Everything else is not imporant.

He was looking hot when he opened the door of his house for me and, I suppose, he felt the same way about me as he complimented me on my outfit. We started off with a splash of wine in our glasses as I unwinded from a long drive on his couch. The conversation was flowing smoothly and effortlessly, even despite us finding out that we had opposite political views. He presented intelligent arguments of his views and I rebutted his convictions with my own - I was on an intellectual roll and completely in the zone. He seemed to be impressed.

He announced that we had reservations at 8pm at a nearby restaurant and we finished our wine. He insisted on driving and as I stepped into his garage I immediately noticed his elegant black ML 350. The Club Guy opened the passenger door for me and there I was, being whisked away in a beautiful Mercedes to our dinner destination.

The restaurant was amazing as well - the food, the wine, the conversation everything was just right. That magic... the magic from the former Best Date Ever from two years ago... I could feel it again, and it wasn't because of his mansion, or his car... it was because he was bright and intelligent and, frankly, really hot. I was swept off my feet with the gallantry, and the door opening, and the compliments. I felt like that extraordinary woman again. I missed that feeling.

I don't know what's going to happen between me and the Club Guy from this point on - will the fling ever progress into something more? It's hard to say because he lives relatively far away, because he is going to Vegas for a week next weekend and I won't be seeing him for at least two weeks, because he made a promise to come and see me soon but I am not assured that he will stay true to that promise, because he probably has 20 girls waiting to jump him. And even though I've got a damn good personality, I am aware that men can get rather easily distracted by a new pair of beautiful legs.

Am I overly cynical? Perhaps. Am I glad that I went on this date? Absolutely. A part of me was still holding on to the past because of the date two years ago. I was still longing for that feeling of magic that I thought I could never regain. And if anything... if Club Guy and I end our romance right here and now... I am still grateful for having him help me turn the page of my dating book to a new chapter. I just needed a little reminder that someone out there still thinks I am worth being treated like an amazing woman, and now, feeling rejuvenated, I am ready to take on the world once again.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Boys, Boys, Boys

So, Jesus Christ Mary and Joseph, have I been dating up a storm lately. It's no secret that I have been single for a while, and it's becoming painfully apparent, even to the most stubborn of my friends, that I, no matter what I may or may not say, really like being single. A relationship would be great, sure, but no one I am seeing right now is peaking my interest enough for me to even start thinking about that stage of dating. Right now, it's all fun and games... and maybe it's just me, but I swear, I have never enjoyed this much attention until I moved to Louisville.

No kidding. I don't know if it's the Southern sun, the water, or the air - but I get hooted and hollered at almost daily, sometimes several times a day. I get sort of insecure about that... I mean, I like when someone hits on me at a club and buys me a drink or whatever. However, when I am walking to my car on my way to work, or taking a leisurely stroll, I don't want any eyes on me. In Louisville, it may not be all eyes on me, but it sure feels like it.

The first guy that I am sort of seeing right now is the Bar Owner. As a matter of fact, we have a dinner date tomorrow night at a restaurant downtown. He constantly tells me he misses me. He's tall, reasonably handsome, reasonably educated and smart. The negative aspects that I am seeing with him is his family, whom I didn't get the chance to meet yet but who strike me as a little... low brow. More specifically, his father seems to have a pretty severe alcohol problem and his mother is a pill popper. The Bar Owner, quite understandably, doesn't live with either of them but still maintains a close relationship as, I suppose, he should. Quite frankly though, his dysfunctional fam is a turn-off for me and this factor might be what, ultimately, brings this relationship to an end.

The second guy is the guy I met last weekend at a club downtown, when I was out with a couple of my new Louisville friends. He was well-dressed and equally as well-spoken. We chatted for a while and as his friends were about to migrate to another drinking establishment, we exchanged numbers to meet up later on in the night. Around midnight, as my friends were all ready to leave as they had to get up bright and early for the Kentucky Derby, I received a text message from the Club Guy, telling me to come meet him at a club next door. His text said "We got bottle service in the VIP. You should come." Um, how could I say no to that?!

So I go over there and hang out and dance while being catered to by about five different bartenders. I find out he is kind of a big deal - case and point two of his friends who just happen to be football players for the NY Giants and hanging out in the same VIP area - just chilling and talking and mingling with us. One of them even kissed my hand! Of course I digress...

As the story goes, Club Guy and I hang out again the next night, again in the VIP, again with the New York Giants, and he finally leaves to go home to Indiana the next day. I fully expected to never hear from him again but so far he's been calling and texting every day, asking me to go on a date with him, promising me the world with a cherry on top. He seems a bit shady and I don't know if he's genuine in his pursuit or if he's intrigued by the fact that I don't really give it up and spread my legs for the guys I date, unless I get pretty serious with them. Maybe he's in it for the challenge alone.

And, would you believe it, there is a guy # 3 in my life. You can find my entries about him way back in January - he is the one who decided not to hang out with me on Valentine's Day (real winner, sure..). I rarely see him any more because we now live about 3 hours apart. Hell, who am I kidding, I don't see him any more at all, but we talk almost daily and I still have this crazy sexual attraction for him. The kind that is like... whoa. The kind that I experienced only one other time in my life, with the guy who I've been friends with for a long time and who was pretty much amazing in bed every time we did it.

So, Mr. January, as I'd like to call him, is the only guy who I can really see myself being with and he's also the only guy I can really see myself being just friends with as well - he's got the looks, the charm, the wit, the smarts. He's got an AMAZING personality... and the phone sex is great. We are pretty much friends with (phone) benefits right now, and maybe it's just me but hey, after over a year of not getting any in real life, the phone sex with him is ALWAYS earth-shattering.

So here are my men - The Bar Owner, The Club Guy, and Mr. January - who all have their pros and cons. And here I am - the girl who doesn't know what she wants and is just having a little innocent, PG-13 fun. What adventures/mishaps/hilarious consequences will this lead to? Only God and time can tell, but I, personally, can't wait to find out.