Showing posts with label Ex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ex. Show all posts

Truth be Told

Thursday, October 4, 2007

As I am typing this, I am beating myself up because I really don’t want to finish the “It all began” chapters.

See, that is my problem. I get bored.

I get bored with people; hence the short terms relationships and so lack of commitment. I hate repetition. Other attractive ladies effortlessly distract me and my mind wanders while the person I am theoretically “getting to know better,” chats my ears off.

I hate hurting people; I hate to lead women on. I hate not being able to tell them that I am not interested. I don’t even know the best approach for these kinds of situations – so I shun them.

I know there may be a few people I’ve dated or hooked up with in the past who are avid readers of this confession space. Knowing that, sometimes limits the stories I want to write about; either they involve something that they did or it involves how I felt about them. I was serious I when I said I would not date any of my readers.

How can I when they would know all about me and judge me before I even got a chance to explain my Barbie experiments, the many girls I slept with, my social life, the parties I have to go to, the elaborate relationships I had in the past. How can I date someone who knows all about it?

Trust me, I am all about being truthful in a relationship. Sometimes, secrets are meant to be secrets. I like being anonymous. I like that some of my readers don’t know who I am. I like the anonymity.

I’d like to keep it that way.

There were times when I wanted to start all over, a new blog, a new mystery lady. But I just couldn’t retire Confessions of a NYC lezie. This is who I am. Some of you judge my life and others compliment my writing style. Thank you to both.

And so, if you know me – either you are my friend, and ex-lover or someone I was “getting to know better”; it is your choice to stop reading. My quest to confess will thrive.

Get ready. This is a carte blanche. No mercy.

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The Ex is a Douche

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

I am starting to think that I should start a blog with the title “My Ex-Girlfriend is a Little Bitch”. There would have been ample material to update every week--on some occasion’s daily. We've recently stopped talking. Or, to be more specific, I stopped talking to her months ago. She has started to text me randomly, which I guess involves some amount of speaking- sorry, typing on her part but mostly it's me ignoring her pitiable attempts to upset me.

However, this is not exactly what relegates her to little bitchdom. What downgrades My Ex-Girlfriend to Little BitchdomEx-Girlfriend has had some crazy times at work. Unfortunately, she has a real job but is one of the company bitch. So she complains a lot and wants me to listen and be a friend. This is unfortunate because I am not one of those girls who can wish exes well. I wish them a lifetime of poverty and sexual abstinence. I kid, I kid.

She finds occasion to whine about everything endlessly in a 5-minute phone call. After a cursory glance at the caller ID on my phone, I find that the call was largely due to a horrid day at work/girlfriend issues, roommates’ drama. It is highly unlikely that a misogynistic douche-bag would suddenly find the time and motivation to go out and make horde of female friends that come over and chastely play a dyke game of Pong. One can only conclude that I have made it onto the list-serve entitled "Girls I am Fucking or Would Like to Fuck or even better – girls I pretend to be friends with" hereafter referred to as GIFWLF.

On these GIFWLF calls, lines are often included to target a specific girl/issue (and I suppose to reassure to me that she is in fact a little carpet muncher - eww) such as "that girl is so hot" or "ugh, she lives so far, I can’t be in a relationship with someone I can’t see". I tried to make myself feel better for a bit by pretending that the whole operation was a clever way to get under my skin. However, I am not that easily manipulated, even by my own self. The truth is I have left the confines of a serious relationship to enter Ex-girlfriends harem, which includes one other ex- and short-term projects.

My presence on the GIFWLF call list insults me, but in a horrible girly way that no lesbian’s logic could comprehend. This is partly my fault for refusing to accept that any girl I have slept with could actually be a misogynistic douche-bag with no redeeming qualities.

But I think I'm coming around to the idea.

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Everlasting Love

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

I used to be the one people turned to and said Shane’s famous line from the Lword “you guys give me hope” – speaking about Tina and Bette. I hate to think about the one time I was the last hope for single lesbians because there was one time in my life that I was and truly believed in love but more importantly a relationship that would be sizzling forever. I also hate to think about the person I had it with because it replays every moment I once shared – the good times and even the bad ones, and then I say to myself “yes, I do believe in love and yes it can be forever.” I don’t constantly remind myself but it is there behind somewhere – hidden in the creases of my mind.

Then I look at the relationship Hope is currently in and I think “you guys give me hope”. From what I hear, they are absolutely in love with each other. I don’t know her partner well enough to judge her love or question her love for her. But I do know Hope and I know that she is the kind of person who falls in love –it may not be easily, but she falls deep and hard. Whatever you get from her, it comes from her heart and only from her heart.

I hate to look in future partners some of the qualities Hope has because it would make it harder for me to fall in love. I don’t fall in love easily. It is a known fact. But with every girl I was in a relationship with after Hope, they all had something similar or recognizable in Hope. Whether it was her kind heart, her love for music or the arts or simply a slight resemblance in her profound dark eyes or her dear affection to make a difference in other people’s lives. Every time, every single time I see her.

I am over her, I am over the relationship we had, I am over the person she is but I will always love her and have a special spot in my heart. It isn’t a shock to most people but others might not see why. It has been a little over two years – there are times when I can go months without thinking about her and there are other times (like lately) where I do think about her. It may just be the fact that people keep mentioning her name to me or people saw her and they report back to me (as if I wanted to hear that she was at this place or that place) I don’t miss Hope per se. I miss the feeling of being in love (although she wasn’t the only person I loved).

I’ve noticed, during the past two years, I’ve fallen for two people. I have also fallen out of love and it is the hardest thing to go through. I am approaching my mid 20’s – very soon and I can’t help but think “am I going to be the party lezzie of NYC the (what some people say) Brad Pitt of Lezzies? Am I going to be single and stay single? Am I ever going to be in stable relationship? Am I ever going to settle down?”

Don’t worry, I only think about it when I see my married friends or when my single ones exclaim “I’m engaged!!!!” This year alone, I am attending 3 weddings and one more baby shower. Just as I am getting used to the idea that my friends are in stable long term relationships, the singlehood period quickly befalls upon me, and once again I’m knocked out of my comfort zone. It’s normal right?

This blog is supposed to reveal some of my confessions. And here it one…behind the party girl, I am the single lezzie who worries about finding her soul-mate – wait, I don’t believe in soul-mate. OK fine, I worry about finding my Cinder-Angelina.

How many frogs will I have to kiss to find my princess?

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Rated Mature - Reader's maturity is advised

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

S ince I wrote my last entry - like 4 hours ago, I sat at my desk and I got the idea that I needed a "fuck buddy". A little background about me, I am not a girl used to going without having sex. In my two-years out of college, I have always been dating the Pearl or another or had an ex on the side. The longest up until now that I have gone is 3 weeks, current running time 1 and 1/2 months.

Sex is a need akin to food; it makes you sick when you have too much and it makes you crazy when you don't have enough. When I get ass once or more a day (back in college – now I am a workaholic as some would say), I become positively stupid, every thought runs out of my head and all I can do is smile at everyone and everything. When I don't have sex, I become bitchy and desperate. Or moody and feel rejected, as my current state. There is a point, I am led to understand where you go so long you forget about sex altogether, now I have obviously never gone this long, but I will take everyone's word for it.

So back to my story, when I drink all I want to do is either make out or pass out, usually a combination of both, which is how I got my reputation as a tease. If I am not dating you, I am not fucking you; I will only use you for kissing and your bed. Don't bother trying, my answer will never be anything but no, and I have had too much bad sex to last a lifetime. My theory is one night stands are only acceptable if it is the Sports Illustrated Spokes model, who is a MODEL, and you wake up in the midtown Sheraton with no recollection of having gone there. That's obviously bragging rights. Other than that, Buyers Remorse is a bitch to deal with.

So for the past month and a half I have played the virginal act, no kissing, sucking, or fucking; and after a while this gets old. So I am not sure what came over me but last time I did HH (happy hour) I probably would have gone home with anyone, thank god I threw myself in a cab. So after some heavy drinking with the writer as well as a few other lezzies upon I dared one to put her hand down my shirt and made out with another on another dare (who does that?), I began my deliberation of who would be my new fuck buddy.

Now I have no clue how to pick a fuck buddy, but based on past experiences with a sexual relationship with an ex, I thought a couple of ground rules were appropriate. Personally I prefer recycling, because it’s comfortable and I don't have to increase my numbers and chances of more bad sex. To define my idea of bad sex requires background, I have been with extremely bad lovers, a girl who have pretty talked their way into my pants and then have not cared about finishing me or have any intention of trying. But I have also been with women who actually cared, which is why I prefer to hold out for these ladies. These are women I am usually dating.

How does one choose a fuck buddy?

1. First off, it can't be someone that my friends have met or will ever meet.
2. She can't be a tool or douche bag who is going to embarrass me in any way.
3. No weird fetishes like feet or something remotely related to that.
4. She has to be good with her hands.
5. STD free.
6. No personal information required, so as to not form any attachment.
7. Has to be free for drunk dials.
8. No drama, I don't want to hear about her ex or current girl she's in love with.
9. No falling in love with me, I know I am charming and it’s hard.
10. No bragging rights, if you tell people you have slept with me, I will deny it. I can lie, I took acting classes in HS.
11. I am a bathroom talker, so I will tell everyone about everything including technique used or not used.
12. No meetings outside the bedroom.


Then I went down a list of people who have actually propositioned me in the past two weeks. So no one I can see me doing such naughty things to – yet.

After this drunken train of thought in which I was determined to proposition someone. I was ready to make any number of phone calls and completely committed to this idea. I woke up the next morning and realized this would never work, I get way too attached to anyone I sleep with. I have decided to shelve this idea and rediscover it in two more years. That and I got a 4:30 am phone call from the Pearl while I was asleep, so self-confidence is back up (even if I don’t talk to her). I got her and dealt with her craziness, I can deal with anyone thanks to her.

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Friends in Relationships

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

I n the past weeks I’ve decided to clean out my closet. I’ve realized that I am in that social timeline where I need to make new friends – no necessarily wiping out all the friends I have, but a few. For example: the ones that are overly involved with their significant other where there is no time to hang out [without the significant other].

I can’t really say that I dislike all people who are in serious relationships (or so they think) but I dislike the ones who are too much into each other where when I call to hang out, one of them doesn’t want to and so the other half will absolutely not go out. I find it extremely pitiful. I believe people should lead different lives and not be totally infatuated with one another.

I’ve been in a couple of long-term relationship, but my very first LTR had to be with Hope. With her, I had a hard time letting go. I always wanted to be around, hang out, and go out together. When it was time for her to meet new friends (she started this 20 something group friends thing at the center) my insecurities grew to the max. Not only was I going to miss having her around on Tuesday nights but also I had to deal with the issue when her friends met up at bars/restaurants sans moi. I actually learned from my relationship with her. I learned that life doesn’t always revolve around your other half. There is in fact, some time needed to get away from one another. This is one of the lessons I carried with me to my next LTR. I always gave her space and in return I was happy to see my friends and go out without having my girlfriend glued to my waist.

I suppose that is what my friends who are currently in LTR have. I can’t talk for a lot of them, but I am pretty darn sure that it is their first “real” relationship. I guess with every failed shot, I will see them once a year.

Having friends who are highly drawn in with their significant other can be draining. I can’t just call a friend and ask them to come out because they have to confirm with their partners. It is one of my pet peeves. I repulsively hate when I do all the calling or texting and trying to make plans only to find out that they are “staying in” (not too sure if that’s a special code for leave us the fuck alone, we are making sweet-oh so sweet loving)

Maybe I am taking this too seriously, maybe I am the one who has a problem and who is too “single” and doesn’t realize that time spent with the love one are precious (which I think they are) but I do think that time spent with friends is also precious and memorable and FUN (selfish me!). Maybe I need to get a new crowd – a singles’ group where we can run wild in the wee hours of the morning and not have lovers to tame us – calling/texting every minute of the night just to see what we are up to.

Really – can they be any more understanding?

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TLC Life Lessons

Monday, April 9, 2007

S ince I am pretty much stuck in front of the tv when I come home from my escapades I immediately turn on TLC. Its my “ok to be lame, just watch the 700lbs man and feel better about my life” And ever so often I stumbled upon the TLC’s Life Lessons. They are pretty funny but they make you wonder about your potentials to become one of those statues they have, which you can order over the phone.

My favorite besides the cat lady is the “Merlot and emails don’t mix”. It basically sums up my life. I drink and I pull the blackberry and start to email (because my ride home takes forever, I have to entertain myself in some ways) but for some reason I always delete the email before I send them. Secret #1 – its always to the same person. No its not the writer. But it is someone I care deeply about. I am not too sure if she reads this or one of her spies read my stuff and report it back to her (although, I wouldn’t care, since I do want her to read them and see that “hey, I am not so much of a bad person that she thinks I am” – right?) But anyway, the emails sometimes go like this :

“I miss you….I miss being part of your life…I miss talking…I miss you…blah blah
blah” – simple, it’s a whole lot of I miss yous.

Or they go like this:

“I wish you werent with that whore who stole you from me, I fucking hate the whole thing, I fucking hate this. Don’t you see what the hell is going on? no im not fucking crazy I just cant understand why it happened”


Let me just say that if I ever pressed the tiny scroller and send any of these emails to her, I would be in a lot of problems. Actually, she’d probably think that I am crazy and that I need to get over her, which, truthfully I did but I wanted our last night to have been a little hott instead of tears. I should have just gone for the “last sex together, forever”.

Now I really wonder if she is reading.


So going back to my Merlot and the emails. Just after New Years, I had gone out with the architect to a hot spot down in the west village. Good food, good drink specials and 8 martinis later, I was home on the computer emailing her. Of course, it was never sent due to my lack of confidence (nowadays, she intimidates me- which makes the situations sexier) and fear of rejection (again from her). So I avoided the send button and instead saved it as a draft.


[Person’s name]

Better than chocolate, Milicent, 304, tennis matches, icy hot, whales, winter break, peanut butter and jelly crackers, Chesapeake Bay, paintings, thai, cookie cake, beach, bikes, nude, blackout, pesto sauce, tunnel, stick shift, dyke m., pride, Hens, Fridays at 12, movies, palisades, haircuts, puppies, soccer, strength, legs, neck, back, valentine’s day.

Remember me?


You see what Merlot does to you? And so I dare not send it. I guess like the first email I sent her 2 years ago about us being friends and her shutting me with a reply “we cant.” And including a whole Webster dictionary definition of the word friend, I think if I did send this over, it would be “fuck off” and a whole Webster dictionary definition of the word loser. I don’t think I can take anymore of it.

Plus, I don’t think I want her to know that I think about her from time to time or that I actually write letters and can’t send them for numerous reasons. I am pretty darn sure I don’t cross her mind or else she would have offered to grab a drink with me – her girlfriend could have joined. Oh yes, she has a girlfriend. I failed to mention it. Sorry.

It’s been a long time since I last saw her and the last time I did see her, we both ignored each other. I was probably intoxicated and she was definitely sober. The conversation wouldn’t have gone really far.

Me – “hey, what’s up? Still with the so called dyke?”

Her – walking away and pretending she didn’t hear me.

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