so, girl walks into a bar...

It's been shaping up into a pretty weird week, regardless. In any case, it's a "school night" and after work, I hop on a train and head to the city. I have an hour or so to kill before my CS dinner in the Sunset, so I decide to hit up Borders for the 30% coupon I've been carrying around, and possibly a $3 margarita at that bar on the way to Borders. Fast forward and hour and I'm done with my margarita, I've bought touristy postcards of the city I live in to send to friends, I've flirted with both bartenders, and I'm losing track of time, and also wondering why I'm so fucking hungry.

Then I realize I'm supposed to be in the Sunset 10 minutes ago.
I hop on another train out to the Sunset, and I'm fashionably late. Emmanuel, the host, even stands up to give me a hug when I arrive.
Fast forward another hour. Two and a half glasses of wine later, I'm having a goooood time, celebrating another week after my official birthday, thinkin' 25 is a danm good year, and get into this confrontation with this CS girl who thinks we're obligated to offer her a couch. I straight up tell her I'm getting up at 5am and I have a roommate, and she's like NO WAY, and then has the nerve to tell me to FUCK OFF, to which case, i say FUCK OFF TO YOU! and that becomes a huge argument about "how come you didn't plan, how come YOU didnt offer me a couch" etc. bitch bitch -cough- she sucks, COUGH.

And then I leave.

I'm waiting for train #3 tonight and I find someone's number in my coat pocket. I'm thinking, who was cute tonight? Well, I was surrounded by cute (possibly/probably/most likely gay) guys tonight, and they weren't ugly! And I did meet a Ben tonight... and... he lives in NYC? And is writing his number on a NYC taxicab reciept from October 2007? What guy would keep that around by coincidence? Am I going crazy? Am I that attractive? ...or do I just not wear this jacket that often?

The horrible truth comes crashing down on me like the glass ceiling when I come off my high and realize... talking to my girlfriend back in Btown, back on earth, that it's probably a cabbie's number that my dad took down for me when he wanted to make sure i got back to the hotel ok after my cousin's bar mitzvah when i went out with some people after, and he made me take down a cabbie's number, who's voicemailbox, also, so coincidentally was full and not accepting new messages.

Well, thank god for small favors and these sorts of realizations, since I did in fact call that cursed number just now, and the voicemailbox was indeed, full.

So much for booty calling "Ben from NYC" tonight :///

And an unhappy birthday to me...

it's not just men who are unfaithful

I feel a little used. This time, it's because of a woman!

Let me explain. I know this girl from high school. We've been pretty good friends just recently; I try to see her when I visit LA, we hang out, have fun. So when I was given 2 days notice that she was randomly coming up to the bay I thought hey, awesome, we'll spend some time. I was a little weary of her bringing her underage Frenchie boyfriend with her--I was hoping she wouldn't be one of those girls that completely ditches her friends and their needs in favor of her new beau. I was HOPING. Unfortunately all the hoping in the world couldn't prevent the inevitable: me feeling sort of used, more like a free hotel than a friend--an actual person with feelings and a life? There was pretty much no regard for my feelings and my schedule. She's been late to everything since she arrived. And this includes showing up Thursday night after 2am when she KNEW I had work the next day and was expecting her at more like 11pm, midnight. My life, contrary to what she may believe, actually does not revolve around her and her boyfriend's visit. Although I would have bent over backward to make it so as I rarely even see her. Apparently my company is unnecessary. My couch, however, is being utilized. In ways I probably won't want to know about.

I'm a little upset. She's cheating on me in my own house. It's how I feel about 4-Orgasm Guy, it's how I felt about Andy. Used. Makes me a little fucking angry.

Lesson: I have very low tolerance for inconsiderate people, "friends" who ditch and/or use me, and being taken advantage of. I'm not having a lot of fun being me today.

i can't bear the distance

The thought of him makes me nauseated. I don't think that's a good thing: it's not like butterflies nauseated, it's like, sorry I think I have to go throw up now :( That can't be a good thing. I've been having a lot of psychosomatic things going on these days; this is one of the signs. The signs that say NO, he's bad news. No wonder I had a thing for him way back when.

At least maybe I'll finally get my wish: I'll be able to reject him. Talk about ghosts from the past. Anyway, if I'm honest with myself I'll say that it definitely doesn't feel great, but it's better than feeling awful later. I can't believe the compliment he gave me, too. Not like I didn't already know, but... how shallow! how superficial!... It had nothing to do with my looks or personality. Ahem.

I am a very awkward person!!
The rest of the week was spent trying to deal, and promising myself not to get that drunk ever again around someone I don't even like anymore who couldn't care less. Right. Note to self.

nerd pr0n and associated aftermath

Nerd porn or no?: a stringy blond haired woman in a thong with a sledgehammer beating the shit out of a radio, and the barstool the radio's propped up on. I say yes. And i say, get me out the guy's house that has this on his web history.

(I forgot to mention porn guy. We started hanging out in the last month or so. He's the typical Silicon Valley computer programmer, button downs and tennis shoes preppy Princeton graduate with something seriously lacking with his interpersonal skills although he begs to differ. Anyway. I found this intriguing for some asinine reason, and when we hung out one afternoon, it turned into coffee and jazz and dinner and art gallery openings and bars and innocent sleepovers and then getting wasted at an unlimited alcohol brunch event. Turns out he's a complete sex freak, and he has a girlfriend on the East Coast that he's looking to cheat on. With multiple women. I quickly removed myself from that situation, but I'm a little bitter about the whole thing and how it went down.)

So of course the one person in this HUGE city that I least wanted to see last night, showed up at the venue and found me sitting in a dark corner of the upstairs bar. Yes, I'm speaking of porn guy. Of course. And so, now I know. There is no mercy in the universe. Although I wouldn't have said no had he bought me a drink as a peace offering, but he comes up to be like we're old friends! No, buddy, that's not how it is. Get a clue. People are so odd... like nothing happened!! Ugh!!

Speaking of no mercy, the hot Aussie I met whilst trying to escape porn guy hovering around me with his friend ("hey, can we hang with you?" to which I answered, "It's a free country, dude," and he said "WHAT? FREE CONCERT? YEAH!" idiot).

Do Australians kiss on the cheek to say goodbye? Because he was a cheek kisser. And he was so damn tall that when I tried to kiss him back, I got his neck. Mmm, neck kisses. Pounding electronica.

No emails or phone calls the next day. And the Aussie on a plane back to Australia, Land Of Hot Men and Kangaroos. Typical of me to meet the "perfect" guy, who just happens to live in another hemisphere (and apparently doesn't use email like he promised). How typical. Ho hum. Back to the same old grind. I am badly in need of another girl's night out....

cheesy movies on a sunday afternoon

I've read and seen some interesting things... such as: "You had a guy talking, and you let him escape? Was it in full sentences or just grunting?"

"An emotional man who likes to talk? This is a mystical figure!"

I've also heard the worst pickup line in the world this week: "So do you think that guy over there would go home with me?" to which I asked, "Is he gay?" It was a very confusing, weird place to be in, this headspace with this possibly gay man who I think is hitting on me, or...? It was really weird. Worst pickup line ever.

how to be a shitty houseguest

Here are some basic tips: 1. Be respectful. No trying to sleep with your platonic host; men especially should abide by this rule! It's really sketch to have someone come over with only one thing in mind. Ew! Creepy!

2. Don't track mud onto new, white carpet! That's just common sense. What sort of dirty, dirty boy... ?! I nearly had a heart attach. Dirt, boys... bad for the heart!!

3. Don't jerk off in your host's shower. It's gross. Especially when they need to get you out of their house because they're late to work. When it's been 10 minutes and they start saying, "OH GOD OHGOD," it's never a good sign. It means either they've tracked mud all over the bathroom tile also, or they're splooging all over your shower curtain :/

I don't think I'll be hosting for awhile. What an awful experience. I'm still reeling.

i don't even want you anymore, i just want to be the one to reject you

I feel like I sort of have to prove to myself that I can get him, even though I don't even really want him. Ugh!

I should just be enough, but I'm not. I'm so fucking lonely. At least I'm honest, but shit. It's bad. A can't always be around to save me. (We did the frat boy thing yesterday, we rented stupid teen movies, got some beer, ordered pizza. He's my best friend, he's like my girlfriend and my pseudo-boyfriend also... I heart A and don't know what I'd do without his friendship! It will be hard to leave the Bay because of M and A; I think I will miss them the most.)

Anyway. It's funny the lengths we go to avoid rejection. Sometimes to the point of bending over backward: will he love me if I fuck him? What if I blow him? Watch porn with him? Lose 10 lbs for him? Will that keep him from leaving me?

There are some things that are out of my control. I think this is one of them. I don't even have the friendship--because we never had a friendship to begin with. And that's frustrating, and sad, and I would do anything to be his friend, if he'd let me.

(Maybe he knows, maybe I told him, about the kind of girl I am. The kind that will stab you in the front. But really, would you want friend who'd do it any other way?)

I always sit in restaurants facing the door. So I can see who's coming to attack me. Maybe that's paranoid, but I think it's logical. And this is how I go about my life: with a set plan. I'll even be so kind as to tell you my plan in advance.

Perhaps I need to cultivate another air of mystery. When people can see you coming at them, they sure as hell better be confident, stable motherfuckers, else they run from you in the opposite direction. In my life, I've met many people who are runners.

if you say you will call, call; otherwise, don't even bother!

Ah, the age old question: to call or not to call. But you see, it's never that straightforward. I really feel like I'm being jerked around sometimes. What really bothers me about ill-intentioned people is, although perhaps they may intend to call, and thus say "I'll call you tomorrow, baby," they shouldn't say it if they don't mean it! They're wasting my time! Because then I expect them to call! When they don't, then I've gotten my hopes up about them calling, and then I'm disappointed. :'(

So already a few days into the new year, the new guy probably won't pan out. I need to grieve about this a little bit... check back with me in a few weeks. By then the heartbreak will have abated.