Tag Archives: city life

PlaybookPages {Tying-up Loose Ends}

3 Nov

Looking back at the last two months, I swear things have happened in my dating/sex life; yet somehow everything has seemed so blah that it hasn’t seemed worth writing about.

I guess this is partially because my “real” life has been fairly hectic as of late: working lots of doubles, trying to advance in the corporate world. I got new roommates and with that, of course, came new trials at home. I got a cat {his name is MJ}, and as you can imagine it’s basically been like having a child. Speaking of children my best friend just had a baby… now, after meeting him in all of his two week-old glory, all I secretly want is to do in life {like tomorrow} is get married and have a baby. But ahh! I digress…

Along with my “real life” complications have come some very interesting {and awkward} moments with people I work with–some with people “below me” on the ladder and even more with people “above me.” I could write pages and pages on how weird I feel that I’ve encountered the inevitable{?} advances by a superior with only my mere career hanging over my head… But I won’t. We all have heard these stories and if there is a lesson to be learned it’s this: only have mentors of the same sex, only meet in groups or for lunch, and most importantly–no matter HOW wonderful free drinks sound–DON’T talk work stuff one-on-one over drinks. Period. It’s the only way to avoid the ones who consider themselves “kind of married.” And nothing is more awkward than convincing your drunk and weaving “kind of married” confidant that they should get in a cab and go home…after you were supposed to have a meeting about interviewing for jobs. Oy.

So, I partially haven’t written because of my life {bleh} and I partially haven’t written because I feel like everyone I’ve met recently has turned into a dead-end {double bleh}. Thus, it’s time to take some of these ends and tie them up.

NonDate: After much anxiety and a couple of whiskey drinks, we ended up hooking up on my couch the night he stayed at my house. The following night, a group of us went to a ridiculously flashy {trendy, somewhat overrated} club in meat-packing, and he and I played pretend bf and gf for a night: made out on the dance floor, danced the night away, held hands and talked to people on the smoking porch. Then he flew home a few drunk hours later. Now we just text from time to time about our pretend, soon-to-be born child. You know, the usual.

HomeGrown: We went to an awesome concert together and had a lovely moment at the end where his arms were around my waist and his head leaning on my head. When we said goodbye though, he didn’t really kiss me. Like he kissed me, but we didn’t make out. Then he went to LA for the Jewish holiday, and when he got back {I presume he got back, that is…} I never heard from him. Then I awkwardly ran into him at another football watch party. And he was wearing jeans and a blazer… AT A FOOTBALL GAME. Yuck. Needless to say I felt a lot better that I hadn’t heard from him.

OK, well that’s only two… So, I guess that’s not that bad. There are two more, but they require a little more explanation. That shall come soon {I promise}.

A few ends tied, a few to go.

Playbook Pages {clearing my mind}

12 Oct

The first time I realized I liked Homegrown was the first time we got drinks. More important than what we did that night, I suppose, is where on the time line of the week our meeting fell.

The day before I hung out with Homegrown for the first time I had hung out with WorkCrush for the first time in weeks. It was the first time we had spent more than a few minutes together since my crazy episode–when I tried to break it off with him, cried like a banshee, talked myself in circles for 4 hours.

Then asked if we could just forget the whole thing had happened; he said no. Then I asked if he could stay the night; he said yes. Then we had crazy animal sex, and the next day he left for Florida for the weekend and then some.

After he got back, we didn’t really talk. I had to get my head back on straight. After I did, I kept getting this urge to make-out with him. One afternoon I acted on it. We met at a Starbucks on his way to work and we ended up making-out under umbrellas in the pouring rain on the corner of 57th and 9th. I liked him again.

Flash forward to the night before I hung out with Homegrown. I met WorkCrush at Union Square, and in usual WorkCrush-fashion we had a talk… a long one. I still don’t understand what it is that makes me spill all of my guts–even ones I don’t think are really mine–to him. We covered the usual: I apologized for being crazy, he said it was fine {it wasn’t}; he said he felt jerked around, I apologized but said I didn’t do it on purpose {I didn’t}; I said I just wanted to stay in the “grey” and see where things went {I did}; he claimed he was fine with that {he wasn’t}. After our “talk” I just felt more confused than anything, but in an effort to put it all in the past and move on, I agreed to go to his house.

When we got there we smoked and a funny thing happened: the higher I got, the clearer my head got. And the clearer my head got, the more he started to annoy me. As he cuddled his body into mine, putting his head on my chest, he looked up at me with his big brown doe eyes and dimpled smile as if to say, “You’re so cute. This is so us!” The whole thing instantly made me want to vom, so I took the route of my only possible defense {that wasn’t screaming at him to get off of me}: I fell into a deep, stoned sleep.

Kind of like this... but more vommy.

When I woke up, my head was still clear. Probably because of my clear head, I also awoke with a sick feeling deep in my stomach. What had I done?!

Convinced meeting up with a random would either A) reignite my feelings for WorkCrush {doubtful} or B) at least distract me from the fact that I felt like a total crazy person {also doubtful}, I agreed to meet up with Homegrown that night.

Homegrown and I had met for literally 5 minutes at a football watch party for our college alma mater. We had exchanged numbers and then a few texts, but with my head still clear it only took another 5 minutes with him to realize that he was the opposite of a doe-eyed cuddler.

He was different from any of the East coast boys I had met out here; he was from the West coast like me. He was homegrown… and I was hooked.

 

Playbook Pages {the NonDate}

16 Sep

Me: “Oh, hi… I’m meeting someone here.”
Hostess: “Oh, okay… Do you want to look at the bar?”
Oh shit. I have no idea what this guy looks like…
Me: “Um I better text him really quick.”
Of course she think I’m on a blind date now…
ARE YOU HERE?
YEP OUTSIDE
WEARING?
PLAID SHIRT
Hmmm plaid shirt…plaid shirt…
Me: “I guess he’s outside. Thanks!”
WITH MY HEAD STUCK IN MY PHONE TALKING TO YOU
Ha! Funny guy huh? Plaid shirt…plaid… Oh! Oh crap. He IS cute in real life.

As a favor to my sister’s boyfriend, I had agreed to let his friend crash on my couch for a night or two while in for an interview. In an effort not to have a stranger stay on my couch, I had agreed to meet this friend for a drink the night “crashing” was to take place.

Now, to be honest, I wasn’t totally caught-off guard by the hotness. In another attempt to make this stranger not a stranger we had become friends on Facebook. I am I VERY thorough FB stalker, so I already thought that he had cute potential.

Ok fine. I had already told my roommate that I wanted to do him… IF he ended up being as cute as his FB implied.

And boy, oh boy, was he ever.

We both ordered drinks and decided to share nachos. We chatted about the city and about our jobs. We talked about Oregon {we’re both from there}: how much I missed it, how much he wouldn’t. We talked about school and living in random cities, making friends, going out. We talked about our families and our backgrounds, about working during college and working after college. We talked about music and raves, drugs and Ken Kesey. And we laughed. We laughed a lot, actually.

his and hers...

At one point we stumbled upon the inevitable couple/dating talk. Somehow we got on the topic of fighting or fighting in public and the conversation went something like this:
me: Yeah, it’s always awkward when there is that couple at the table who is clearly fighting.
Him: something something something something
me: or even worse when YOU are in the couple that is fighting….
Him: yeah and you have to act like nothing is really wrong but when you get home it all comes out.
Me: yeah at least it all comes out eventually.
Him: and then you have crazy hate sex.
Me: {trying to fight the excitement in my voice and keep it from my face} yes!
Him: and then after I want to just watch a movie and love you all night.
Me: {more excitement} Definitely.

Ummm… Did he just describe my perfect date?

Him: Can you imagine how much hate sex Barack and Michelle have?
Me: {laughing uncontrollably}
Him: I’m serious! She’s like, “stop giving me that dumb grin!”
Me: and he’s like, “stop walking away from me woman!”
Him: The Secret Service guys probably have to hear so much of the sex because they are standing outside of the door.
Me: {more uncontrollable laughter}
Him: I’m serious! They should write a book.
End Scene.

By the end of the non-date I was starting to wish it was a real date. If it HAD been a first date, it would’ve been a good one. We hailed cabs and made plans to meet-up the next day so that he could “crash.” But as I rode away with that dopey first-date grin on my face, I couldn’t help but hope that something more would maybe come out of my future time with NonDate.

ToDo List: Sexy DMV Guy

12 Sep

Sexy DMV Guy you have NO idea what my day has been like.

First I missed my bus stop so I had to backtrack on foot… in QUEENS! Then I got lost. And it was hot. And I was sweating. And when I FINALLY found the DMV, my make-up had melted off of my face. And the guy who helped me at the DMV yelled at me.

But when I saw you, Sexy DMV Guy, none of that really mattered anymore. I haven’t seen arms like that {in person} in a while… maybe ever. Even with your silly, half-on hat, I find you sexy. But the sexiest thing about you {other than your arms, shoulders, face, general size and general being} is your manners; as you introduce yourself to your friend’s wife, you say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” and shake her hand. When you repeat this with his daughter, I pretty much could’ve fainted from witnessing the adorableness.

Clearly, Sexy DMV Guy, I would like to do you.

ToDo List: dorky business man guy

8 Sep

Oh dorky business man guy. There is something about you that is quite endearing. Maybe it’s the fact that your sleeves are rolled up, letting your forearms soak up the sun; maybe it’s your clean-cut hair and shiny dress shoes; maybe it’s the way you keep squinting in the sun, but still manage to turn and make eye contact with me; or the fact that stuff keeps falling out of your sandwich; or  that you are sitting in a park by a waterfall with your coworker; or that you keep eye fucking me; or maybe it’s just because the sun is out.

Either way, keep doing your thing, dorky business man guy! Thanks for the eye contact even though I look a mess. Thanks for looking back when you were walking away.

Overall, dorky business man guy, I’d like to do you… in all of your sunny, silly glory.

Playbook Pages {workcrush update}

19 Aug

Seeing you makes my day happier… 🙂

As I hit send on my sappy g-chat message, I realize I actually mean it.

My work crush and I had hung out a total of 3 times outside of work, but I was starting to realize that I wanted to see him more often. I first noticed it when I had to sit and interview possible roommates off of Craigslist. I set-up a four hour block of time for strangers to just pop in and out of my life. For both my safety and my sanity, I didn’t want to sit there alone; somehow, when I realized I needed a buddy, the first person I thought of was WorkCrush.

The second time I noticed it was when he had to leave my open-house to go to improv practice {yes, I said improv practice}, and I didn’t want him to go. So, we made plans to go to a movie later that night and it tied me over.

A few nights later, when he slipped away from his department to walk me to the bus stop, I got it again–the same little tug that I didn’t want him to leave. It got worse when I was on the bus and realized that I wished he was coming over after he got off.

And then today, when I snuck into the studio to give him a hug, I realized I wish we got off of work at the same time so I could be around him a little longer.
Could it be that I have an ACTUAL crush on my WorkCrush?


When my chat box starts to blink, I get a little nervous. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent that! But then I read his response…

The feeling is mutual. I was just thinking about that same thing.

ThisMorning {over it}

18 Aug

I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different. I came to 30-Something’s with the intention of hanging out, getting some work done and then going to bed. Before I agreed to go over there, I hit him with two disclaimers: 1) it was that time of the month, so I couldn’t have “fun time” {his stupid phrase, not mine} and 2) I had just taken a couple of hits, so I was a little high.

By the time he picked me up, I realized I was too stoned to do anything but talk and eat. I would do my work in the morning, which is probably what gave him the wrong idea.

Now one interesting thing about me when I’m high–and maybe it’s true for most people–is that I become super honest and somewhat easily annoyed. I can usually go with the flow, but if something starts nagging my brain, and messing with my high, I can get a little testy.

So that’s why if we had stayed at his counter eating crackers with brie and fig jam and drinking wine, things probably would’ve been better. And even if he had given me a neck and shoulder massage in the livingroom, things probably would’ve been fine. But when he said he wasn’t trying to “get me in bed” but that the massage would be easier in the bedroom, I believed him. And I guess that’s where I got the wrong idea… the idea that he would actually respect what I said about having my “lady time” and what I said about not wanting to fool around.

But instead, when the massage seemed to be focusing on my boobs, I knew I was wrong. It was then that the slow, wet kissing started, the kind that is supposed to be “sexy” in some sort of slow-motion world; in my world it just grosses me out and annoys me. I knew I was in trouble.

Sure enough, then came the awkward middle school hand pushing… down, down, down to his crotch. And that, my friends, is when my high self had had enough.

I pull my hand away.
Ummm yeah. I’m just really not in the mood. I told you I wouldn’t be able to mess around.
He pushes my hand back down.
So you can’t do anything at all?
I fumble around down there for a second and then pull my hand away again.
I’m just not feeling well, I guess.
So, you’re really not in the mood… at all?
No.

When he got back into bed from the shower, I apologized, but I didn’t really mean it. When we both retreated to “our sides” of the bed, I was relieved. I woke up at 6am, after only a couple of hours of uncomfortable sleep, to do the work I meant to do the night before. When I finished, I showered and got dressed in the bathroom making sure not to wake him up.

Then I slipped into his room and as I was putting on my jewelry he opened his eyes. When he asked if I was going to work early, I nodded and kissed him on his shaved head. I told him goodbye–knowing that this time, I really meant it.