Monday, February 28, 2005

Passengers, please buckle your seat belts

Why is it when you give a guy what he wants he always changes what he ordered? You would think that most men would jump at the chance to have a relationship without the mess, yet they still seem to create strings even when they are not attached. It is a no win situation. Kind of like the last 20 seconds of the 4th quarter with two of your best players on the bench. I am out of ideas! You give too little, you're selfish, you give too much you're smothering. The only smothering that I would like to do right now involves my pillow and someone gasping for air. Guys, little do you realize, careful what you ask for. You see women can turn their emotions on and off. However, once they are off, lets just say...You usually need to rewire the entire thing before you even think you are getting that light to turn on again. It's like the fear of flying. You can't see where you are going, the bottom feels like an abyss, but after you swallow the pit in your stomach and you reach 30,000 feet above sea level, it's smooth sailing. Even though I live by the rule "don't expect too much and you will get what's expected." I am trying not to be so cynical in 2005, because I would hate to turn into a 30 year who is still scared of getting on a plane. Let's be honest, the "high mile club" is just one of the many perks of flying the friendly skies. So I suppose I will just wait for my miles to run out, and until there are no more upgrades to first class left. Then I will just have to accept that the fact I will be sitting in coach for the remainder of the ride. That is so long as I am near the emergency exit of course! (wink)

Arrrrr! Avast me hearties!

I've come to came to the scary realization that if I ever choked on a piece of soy cheese there would be no one to give me the heimlich. As I was disinfecting my contact lenses this morning, I did not notice the warning on the package "do not insert in eye." Okay, this makes no sense. Obviously, the contact lens has to be inserted in eye - where else would I insert it? So, I place the lens in my eye, and that's when I think my life or at least my eye sight flashed before me. All I kept thinking is I will be the girl who blinded herself all alone in her apt. I can see it in the news "Single White Female, found alone in apt blinded by her loneliness." Now it makes sense why this weekend (while house hunting) the real estate lady told me "I think this house is too big for you." Why is it that just because I am not married and I don't have kids, I can not occupy more than 500 square ft. Perhaps I like to walk around naked in a 2000 square foot house. Who doesn't? Is it so wrong of me to live alone? I guess my question was answered, as I am preparing to purchase a patch for my right eye. Moral of the story, girls, keep 911 on speed dial.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

"Memories, Like the Corners of My City"

On Friday night, I went to dinner in Greenwich village, two blocks from where I had spent the last 4 years of my life. Since Hitler left last year, I have not been back. Being back was kind of like eating a piece of steak, memories of things I used to love but now they make me sick. I will say that regardless of the nauseous feeling in my stomach, I did miss it. The neighborhood that is, not the ex. Greenwich village was always the part of Manhattan where I would live when I have enough cash, or when I marry rich - whichever comes first. This area is similar to how I like my men, desirable, charming, yet trendy, and best of all wealthy. Unfortunately the real estate, also like my men, never goes down. Going back to the topic of dinner, after a one hour wait to be seated and a waiter that reminded me of Gonzo from the Muppets, we ate through a bag of Fritos (you had to be there). Always a good way to start your night. The night ended with a game of trivial pursuit, which I have decided is a game designed to create an inferiority complex in the players. I think the creators are bitter child prodigies that are determined to make everyone else in this world, regardless of their stellar high priced college education, still feel like they fall short from being "smart". Nevertheless, the night was a raging success. I would say I could not have thought of a better way of spending my evening. Good friends, good laughs, and best of all good "new" memories.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

I would like you to meet Mr. Big

Is it possible to have mind blowing sex with a guy you can bring home to mom and dad? In the past, the only orgasmic sex I've met has been on the dance floor of a club in Singapore. I always thought that if I got a handful of "close calls" during sex in a handful of years, well that's good enough. Because, I couldn't actually expect to get the whole package, or even half a package in some cases. I always assumed the type that you have a long term relationship with did not equal wild and crazy, hair grabbing sex. It just doesn't match. How can I bring a guy home to mom and dad who I respect and see as "potential" (or at least potential for key exchange), but at the same time I am thinking of the body shivering, toe curling...You get the point. Then I started thinking, why not? I consider myself "bring home to mom and dad" material, yet I know that I can keep up with Bella and Jameson. Nothing wrong with that. Don't get me wrong, I am far from the "whole package" too. I have my quirks. I am hot-tempered, a perfectionist, high-maintenance, pretentious, and a power-whore bitch (wait! there's good stuff too). But at the same time, I am also a closet romantic, faithful, loving, generous, a real "bend over backwards" type of gal (in more ways than one). So, I guess my point is you can have the best of both worlds. You can have both the great guy and the great sex, and if that doesn't work out, you can always just have the great guy and the great "rabbit."

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

In the market for meat

Since I have given up shopping for Lent, I was forced the other night to pull out the "date outfit" which I was saving for my next outing. Okay things are a little slow lately, but no worries, I still have the tickets on the "guaranteed to get some" little black dress. I cant wait to see when that dress will come out and play. So I headed out to one of my favorite restaurants Markt. Yes, I know there is no "e" between the k and t - it is spelled that way. You know these trendy restaurants are always trying to be uniqe. I became familiar with this restaurant on my last rendezvous with the V.P. (names have been changed to protect the privacy of those mentioned). He wined and dined me only to be tossed to the side for the younger more eligible bachelor (hmm, that would explain why he is not returning my calls). That evening, after two martinis (the only thing I don't like dirty) I was well on my way to realizing - I need to get out more often. The neighborhood of choice, the meat packing district, is just filled with good looking people who probably have a bunch of acronyms at the end of their name. The once butcher shop of NYC is not only a hang out for swine during the day, but also for fresh meat at night. I expect to be pulling out the little black dress soon. However, not the one listed above. I am saving that dress for a particular "going away." I want to make sure I send someone off with a bang, or if I'm lucky it will be me.

Friday, February 18, 2005

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard

Can a man and a woman be friends without having sex? Okay, I am not the best person to be asking this right now. Nevertheless, this highly debatable question made the movie "When Harry Met Sally" the #1 chick flick of all time (don't lie you own it too). Like, Meg Ryan most women are high maintenance women who believe they are low maintenance. We over analyze everything, especially relationships, and we always want everything a certain way so long as it is our way (grande sugar free vanilla skim fat free latte no whip, please). All my life I have had mostly male friends, and I always blamed it on the fact that I hated women. Too catty, too bitchy, too much like me. What I did not know was that I really loved men. Too cocky, too stubborn, too scared of commitment. Okay folks, I'm a man with boobs. What I ended up realizing is that guys could never manage to stay "just" friends, let along manage to stay "just" anything. Most of them ended up history, or became an "ex." Sorry guys, only two positions available! In the past 3 years, I've lost four friends, but that was thanks to Hitler boyfriend (that's another blog all together). Now that Hitler has left the building, I have started to bring back these "friends." However, being single (somewhat) and available they all think it's off-peak hours, and everything is free on nights and weekends. So now I am left with another monumental question to add right next to "What is the meaning of life?." F*ck or foe?

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

The Numbers Game

We all know that infamous question that we avoid like the plaque. The question that should never be asked or answered (honestly at least). How many people have you slept with? I can't think of a worse question. Except maybe, "What's your name"? Anyway, guys usually add a few names to their hit list, because they think it is proof of how "good" they are. What we really should be asking them is "How many girls have you made climax?" You see, what some men don't realize is that humping like a rabbit (or an 18yr old after a six pack of beer) is not a notch on your belt. I say at least till the end of Leno, or it doesn't even count. So, if a guy can say that..Well then standing "o"vation to you!. Just remember, you have to minus at least 3% for the fakers. As far as woman go, we always take our number and divide it by half (and subtract by 5 and then divide by a prime number) In the end, we always end up with that magic number 3. You see, one is not enough (means we are practically virgins). Four is too many (means we are practically hoars). With "3", it's an easy timeline. It means Guy #1 was "the first", Guy #2 was "the bad ex", and Guy #3 is "You". How sweet. Come on, the only thing we have done in 3's is maybe the threesome at the frat house our sophmore year. The moral of this story is don't ask.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005


Why is it that so many of us get into a relationship, and the minute things start getting serious, we run? Where are we going? Everyone seems like they are in such a rush lately. Going somewhere new, trying something different. What's wrong with here, and now? Since most of us were too busy running, we didn't realize there is someone pretty damn great right here and now. What are we really scared of? That we actually might fall in love. God forbid! Last time I checked, no one ever died from falling in love. You might trip and fall in the process, but you pick yourself right back up and keep on walking (or get shoes with better traction). I've decided I am taking myself out of the game, no more races. Now, I prefer to think of relationships like porridge (like in the story of Goldilocks and the three bears). Some are too hot, others too cold, a couple are lukewarm, and then there is one that is "just right." I think I will take my chances, because you never know....I might just find the one that is "just right."

References upon request

I have been dating for 14 years, no I am not as old as it sounds. I am just what you call an early bloomer. Nevertheless, with all these years under my belt you would think I would know all the answers to dating. Except that men do not come with manuals (as they should). I mean I have tried it all. Playing hard to get, playing easy to get, being romantic, not being romantic, cheating, being faithful. Yet in the end, men are never satisfied. You see, if we cheat, we get the only guy in the world that believes in monogamy. If we don't cheat, we end up getting the guys with the "cant keep it in" problem. However, some people have figured out a way to make cheating respectable. They call themselves "sex addicts." Amazing! I wish I could come up with some medical term every time I want to sleep around. Like the "quicker picker upper". At some point or another, I am sure we have all suffered from the boring bedroom syndrome. But we should not let this bring us into temptation. Luckily for me, as of 2005, I am no longer settling for less of anything. The new beau is proof of that resolution. Let's just hope this one doesn't screw things up (or screw anything for that matter). Because, let's be honest gals, we can't keep renewing the warranty. Sometimes, you just gotta buy a new one.

Blog Title

Yes the title of my blog is from "sideways".
"The day after yesterday"
"You mean today?"
"Uh, no the day after yesterday, ok well I guess yeah today."

Monday, February 14, 2005

When is old too old?

Sean Connery was once rated one of the most sexiest men alive by People magazine. No one thought twice about the fact that he is way past the age of getting a discount on the subway. So why is it okay to drool over him, but if someone saw me flirting with the guy in the nursing home I would get the look of death? Could it be that when money is thrown into the picture all of a sudden the wrinkles disappear? Is it bags to riches? I will admit, I am guilty of just that. For a long time, I was always attracted to the older more distinguished men. But, my last fling I think met the limit, 20 years my senior was pushing it. Especially, when his son and I had more in common than we did. It is too bad, as the fancy dinners, trendy bars, and expensive gifts were nice while they lasted. However, let's be honest a few crows feet is okay when you are staring at each others eyes under candlelight. But take that into the bedroom, and well..No one wants to see any crows feet anywhere else but there. Not to mention, who wants to have all the lights off? No fun in that! I mean I want to see what I am about to venture, and if the road less traveled has been traveled too much. Let's just say, I am starting to think 30 year olds (or one 30 yr old in particular) fit me just fine. Besides, there is always a round two or three with them, and no need from the help of the little blue pill.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

D-day or V-day?

Every year, thousands of flowers, chocolates, candy, and gifts are exchanged between couples. Whether you are in a new relationship or a 25 year marriage, we are all victims of this holiday. The stores are making a fortune, guilting us into believing if we do not buy these items we don't love you. Isn't it bad enough that Christmas has become a money making scam? Must we subject ourselves to spending lots of money only two months after we maxed out our credit cards? We are still recooperating! I do not want to sound like a bitter, single woman that hates v-day. I am not single, bitter..maybe. Does anyone know how this holiday even started? Legend says that Saint Valentine was in jail when he fell in love with the jailor's daughter and wrote a letter, signed "from your valentine". Other legends say that Valentine was a priest that performed marriages in secret during the time of Emperor Claudius II and was persecuted. How is this a happy day? Jail, persecution, death. This does not sound like a very romantic holiday. Nevertheless, magazines like Cosmo use up all 250 pages writing about "what men want", "how to make someone fall in love with you", "100 ways to say I love you", and of course the infamous "How to have the best sex ever". If anyone thinks that a magazine article will give them the answer to true love, or a few kama sutra moves, you are mistaken. Instead, you should always do something sweet for your loved one every day of the year, not just o n Feb.14th.

Monday, February 07, 2005

Sex, friends, and videotape

One can say sleeping with someone upgrades you to a "relationship". Except for "one night stands" which hold a special place of things NOT to tell the kids. Others may argue that you can only reach relationship land once you pass the statute of limitations. For me, I have spent most of my life trying to play the game of waiting for the "girlfriend" word to drop from their mouth before I drop anything. After a couple of failed long-term relationships, I decided to stop putting off and start putting out. Hear me out before we all jump to conclusions that I have begun a career on 42nd street. In my search for love, I have decided to turn to our friend Janis. "Don’t you know when you’re loving anybody, you're taking a gamble on a little sorrow, But then who cares, baby,’cause we may not be here tomorrow, no. And if anybody should come along, He gonna give you any love and affection, I’d say get it while you can!" Who would have thought that even in the haziness of drugs, alcohol and rock and roll that she was able to write words to live by. So with my new founded knowledge, I did not turn my back on love with the hopes of finding it. I can not say for sure if the whole sex before the chicken strategy will work, but I know I am having a good time testing out the theory. Also, I look forward to the day when I can update this blog with stories of a new found love that was created on the basis of sex, a friend and the sixties.

Foot in mouth

I decided in the beginning of this semester that I was going to try to participate more in class. In one of my attempts the other night, the professor asked a question. "What is the procedure for filing a notice of voluntary dismissal, and when can you file?" No one ever said law school was exciting. So I am reading the FRCP on-line, because my book has proved to be inaccurate. It happened one day when I got called on in between IM conversations. It was then I realized I was reciting class action when the rule was for discovery- all for the savings of $10. I raise my hand. "You must file before a motion for summary judgment". The teacher looks at me with this strange look as if I said her suit blazer did not match her pants. She then asks me where did I get this information. "In the book". Logically! Did she think I was pulling this out of my...Well you know. I began to get nervous. I read the rule again and say "It is on Rule 41 (a) (I)". Was I one upping the teacher? She begins to stop the class to open her book to this rule. Of course by this time, I am working up a sweat. Could it be that the internet version was in fact wrong? No, not Google! But it was too late she read the rule aloud, and low and behold there it was...I was right. And she was BEET RED. But the teacher did not look too happy with her discovery(no pun intended). As a matter of fact, she looked down right angry. She continues the lecture with no further mention of this rule. My friend nudged me "Smooth move, pissing of the teacher." After class, another student tells me I am nominated for teacher of the year award. So there it is, I made sure I got noticed alright. My goal was to improve my grade, but instead the professor will always remember that I was the one who "one-upped".