Suck it up

Thursday, February 14, 2008

To those of you in happy relationships or excited about your third or fourth date with somebody special who makes your eyes light up and time stand still… I hope you get gonorrhea tonight. Seriously. I know, I know, I sound bitter but I just really hate Valentine’s Day. I either manage to completely fuck it up or else I’m stone cold single.

Weird, right? It’s like, you know the old cliché that states that everybody wants to find a love interest during the summer and is looking to pair up? But for whatever reason, summer is usually a pretty barren season for me. Love-wise. On the flip side, the arrival of darkness at 3:00pm, winter jackets, chapped hands and frozen faces seems to signal that I’ll be getting some. Soon.

That’s right. For whatever reason, I always seem to do better with women during the colder months. Except, you know, during Valentine’s Day. Why this is, I don’t know. But it appears to be so.

Case in point: as I posted previously, the woman that I’ve been out on two dates with told me she had plans when I asked her out for Valentine’s Day. And she still hasn’t responded to the email I sent to her on Sunday, thanking her for dinner. She did, however, include me on a mass email that she sent to about 10 friends. And which was really pretty unfunny. It had pictures of grotesquely ugly women on it and was entitled Why Some Women Stay Single. And I called her on Tuesday night, but got her voicemail. The kind where it goes straight to voicemail as though a person's phone is turned off, and not where somebody looks down at their Caller ID, sees your number and gets a feeling somewhere between disappointment, dread and guilt in their stomach before sending you to leave a message. I think perhaps she might have stumbled upon this site and read our date reviews. Yikes!

Anyway, maybe she isn’t ditching me. But I have to ask a little bit… what the fuck?And I had a weird dream about Hope the other night. I was at her house, which she shared with some roommate who doesn’t exist in real life. I felt awkward, and she obviously felt strange having me there. I was staying the night, not with Hope but as a kind of houseguest. Why, I have no idea. The thing was that she was already married. But she didn’t like her (yes it is in fact the girl she is madly in love at the moment) because she was a little overbearing and pushing things on her plate – like buying a house, getting married. Like everything was set in some alternate universe where 2008 had the social conventions of an Edith Warton novel.

Anyway, Hope’s wife came home. In the dream. I don’t think I ever described what her partner (in real life) looks like…but anyway, she looks like Shakira but not really…there is something definitely off about this girl, but overall she isn’t ugly. And Hope and her were obviously in love. And there I stood, watching like an idiot, as they kissed hello in the dream. I was the dumbass sleeping in the guest bedroom.And then I woke up. I had to lie in bed for a minute as I pondered the dream. I mean, I also didn’t get up because it was freezing and I didn’t feel like getting out from under the covers. But I suddenly remembered that wonderful, unique way that Hope’s hair smelled in real life. And I felt sad for a second. Which is weird. I don't want to get back together with her or anything. I guess it was just some sort of vague longing for something from the past. Kind of a pathetic version of a Proustian moment.And then I told myself to stop being such a goddamned wussy.

I turned over and went back to bed.


Happy Valentine’s Day everyone.

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V day – not vagina day, but instead…Valentine’s Day

Monday, February 11, 2008

Valentine’s day is probably the most respected lovers’ holiday. A perfect reason to say I love you, give flowers, feel special, the tons of kisses and hugs, the endless affection, the romantic comes out of you, the sex is incredible, the warmth of both bodies molding and colliding against another, the love songs playing on the old 1999 stereos, 106.7 and 101.9 nightly dedication of love songs to the special someone in your life, the newspaper sections where one can write their (non) poetic ode for just $6.99. The attempt to make up with old flames because you feel lonely and truly it’s lame, all the Boys II Men love scene movie soundtracks are playing not shuffle mode but instead repeat mode and finally the night ends, morning sunshine peaks at your window and a brand new day starts, your lovers are back to their old self; no longer does the romantic gestures appear and the Boys II Men CDs have finally gone back on the shelf for next year’s lover’s holiday.

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Dating is a bitch

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Believe it or not, I actually had two dates this past weekend. I’m not going to write anything about the first, which took place on Saturday night, since it went really well and I’m hoping to see the woman in question again this coming weekend.

But I'll happily tell you about the second one, which took place on Sunday night, while most of the rest of the country was being suckered by a huge corporation into believing that overweight men with IQs of 20 running around with a Humvee’s worth of protective gear on is entertainning.

For the past few weeks, my friend Jew had been suggesting that I call up her friend Jenna to take her out. I wasn’t crazy about this idea for two reasons: 1) Jew and I are just friends, although we did sleep together once a long time ago and so it seemed a bit strange to go out with one of her friends. 2) Blind dates just suck.

Whatever. I had Jenna’s phone number and so, while being bored at work last week, I gave her a call. We never spoke, but on Monday and Tuesday of last week we played phone tag and exchanged emails enough to make a date to meet at Taralucci e Vino near Union Square at 7:30pm on Sunday.

But when Sunday rolled around, I was still basking in the fun from my Saturday night outing and really wasn’t in the mood to go out with somebody else. But Jew had mentioned to me a few days earlier than Jenna was really looking forward to meeting me on Sunday night. And so I didn’t want to be a jerk and cancel at the last minute.

Jenna was a tall/slim brunette with long dark hair. Very stylishly dressed. She looked great. Except that she was wearing fur. With a matching fur pocketbook. It all looked fashionable and expensive, but I’m totally turned off by fur. I mean, I have a cat. And I love animals. So right now, she was batting about even: a plus for being gorgeous, and a minus for wearing a fur coat.

And then she made the bartender let her try three different wines, taking almost ten minutes before settling on one. She was polite about it and the bartender didn’t mind, but the high maintenance sign in my head was going off. This was reminding me of my old friend Rachel. In fact, I almost texted Rachel to tell her that might’ve met somebody more high maintenance that she is.

Anyway, Jenna and I settled in to chat over our wine. She had an interesting life story. Her family had moved from St. Petersburg when she was in high school, and they’d moved to Indiana. Then she’d gone to Stanford. Now she made a ton of money at a super huge investment bank. I was intrigued.And then she told me about a movie she’d seen last week. In excruciating detail. The whole plot. My mind began to wander. I told myself to pay attention. She might ask me a question, and I'd be thinking about Rachel in her lingerie. Or something Bill Maher said on his show this week.

But the story of the plot of this movie went on for a super long time.But after two glasses of wine, I started to have fun. And we decamped to a restaurant and had a really engaging, engrossing conversation.

I don’t feel like going into much details but Jenna is extremely beautiful and sexy, and really very interesting and smart. I would certainly see her again, but I think that she might be a little bit "high maintenance" for me. We were out for about 4 or 5 hours. So... I'd like to go out with her again, but in the end I'm not sure if it's a good match. Although, to be completely honest, I'm quite attracted to her. Even in just a physical sense.

Interestingly, I had a date on Saturday night that also went well. I'm supposed to see that girl this coming Saturday, and very much looking forward to it.

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Afternoon Delight

Friday, February 1, 2008

I call her phone when I get to her Murray Hill Apt doorstep.

She answers quietly, but I hear footsteps on the stairs inside and the door opens to me.

She lets me in, and I kick off my stilletos.

I grab her shirt in my fist, and pull her behind me up the stairs to her room. I have yet to say a word.

We close the door behind us, and she swoops in for a kiss. Her lips hit mine, then part and let her tongue flick into my mouth.

I pull myself against her; urging her to open her mouth wider, force her to kiss me harder, deeper. We’re groping at each other, but I step back, breaking the kiss.

I walk backwards a few feet, and start pulling off my work clothes. first, I unbutton my shirt and yank it off. Next I pull my tank top over my head, followed quickly by my bra.

I hear her sharp intake of breath... she wants to touch but I’m not done.

I unbutton my pants, let them fall to the ground and then kick them away. My thong is the last thing to come off... I peel them down, away from my hot body.

She closes the distance between us quickly, and i'm caught up in her embrace... her hands run over my bare skin, yearning to touch everything at once and frustrated that she hasn't the patience to take her time.

In a blink, she's down to her bra. I push her lips from mine and push her backwards onto her bed. As she sits on the edge, I sink between her legs and pull off the last of her clothing; the only thing between the meeting of naked flesh.

I stare up into her eyes right before I start a luscious rhythm I play out with my mouth. She moans

I feel her tensing up, and she tells me she is close. I speed up my movements.

I could feel the movement of her climax before it comes, and then I feel her release with a groan.

I got up, kissed her gently and said that I had to go back to work.

"I need to iron my shirt. I have a meeting in 1/2 hr" I said.

She stayed there motionless with a smile of satisfaction.

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