Looks like I’m a half-hour early, whoops! No whoops, actually. This is exactly what I wanted to happen. I hate showing up last, or second, as it were. I hate like, walking into a bar, and then here’s some dude I don’t know watching my every move as I self-consciously try to get my act together in front of him. Awkwardly look for somewhere to hang my jacket. Awkwardly wrap my headphones around my iPod. Awkwardly figure out how to say “hi” while all of that is going on, and there he is all settled in and just… looking at me. But where else is he going to look? Guess it’d be kind of weird for him to look at like, the floor or the menu or his cell phone while I’m totally aware of his purposeful lack of eye contact. God, I hate dating. JK, love it.

I should probably order a drink to calm my nerves. That’s totally innocuous, right? Nothing wrong with that. If this guy has a problem with my having a beer or two before he shows up, he’s probably not The One, anyway. It’s my personal version of There’s Something About Mary-law, the one that states guys must jerk off before dates so that they’re not all horny and distracted come showtime. Pre-date maintenance. No big deal. I wonder if guys actually do that? Seems like, time-consuming now that I think about it. What if they’re coming straight from work? Do they squeeze in “me time” anyhow? Do they, in all actuality, make it a priority to jerk off before a date or am I stupid for taking a two-minute movie clip to heart all these years? I feel like I’d be too lazy to commit to that, touching myself every time I leave the house. I’d rather have a beer. Beer is my date lubricant. Does that analogy even make any sense? Beer = Jerking off? I’m glad I’m a woman.

The bartender is attractive. Kind of wish I wasn’t about to be on a date. I guess it’s too late to cancel? I shouldn’t be eyef-cking the bartender right now. I guess I’m doing it because I’m nervous. Getting major ‘This is going to suck’ vibes re: this date, except they’re all coming from me. I’m the only one on this date right now. I need to chill. And be positive. Positive vibes.

I hope I recognize this guy, seems to be a recurring problem of mine. Hope I haven’t been betrayed by beer goggles again. I guess this issue would resolve itself if I quit drunkenly accepting dates but like, no one asks me out otherwise. Think I possibly give off asexual body language if I haven’t had a few; I need to work on that. Need to be more approachable.

Is that him? He’s smiling. That’s him. How are we gonna do this? Handshake? This is why people don’t ask me out. Because I shake hands. My first instinct is to shake someone’s hand. I don’t want to hug, don’t want him near my boobs yet. Is that weird? I’m not a big hugger. I’m like, a Larry David hugger. He’s going for the cheek kiss. This reminds me of junior high school. So many cheek kisses. The age of the cheek kiss. Which way are we going? Oh christ. We’re both unsure. He’s coming at me with alarming velocity. Ow. That was bad. That was awfully orchestrated.

He’s in work clothes, I think, unless he just dresses like that in which case, I’m not sure this is going to pan out. I wonder if I’m dressed okay. I think I am… I guess it’d be easier if I, too, had work clothes on — except my work wardrobe consists of t-shirts and ex-boyfriend boxers. Think anyone who saw me during working hours would lose interest almost immediately. Pretty sure those are my least attractive hours. Too bad there’s not some sort of date uniform we could all wear, like Catholic School. I always wanted to wear uniforms when I was in high school. I thought accessorizing to assert my individuality would propel me to new heights of popularity. In hindsight I probably felt that way because I couldn’t afford anything ‘hip’ in high school. Glad I’m okay with admitting that to myself now. Screw uniforms.

I guess we’ll talk about work, since we both have jobs. I hate this conversation. I’m going to skimp on details so that he doesn’t like, look me up and read all of the insane things I’ve written w/r/t love and dating. I’ve probably screwed myself, I’m pretty sure. Some people worry that what they’ve published on the internet will mess with their employability, but not me. I’m concerned that some dude I kind of like will read some sentimental tirade I wrote and be all, “Oh no, this girl has like, soooo many feelings. Can’t deal, must abort, flatlining – - – —————-” and I’ll just never hear from him again. Goddamn feelings. I wonder if Robyn has this problem. Or Adele, jesus. She definitely has this problem.

Oh, he’s taking a bathroom break. Going to use this time to look at my phone. Wish that weren’t my first reaction. There’s never anything good happening, anyhow. Just spam from Daily Candy or whatever. Oh, a text message from some guy I used to date! He must know I’m out with someone. They always know. Do they teach that in boy scouts? “The girl you’re completely indifferent toward is resoundingly OVER IT — quick, ask her out for drinks!” Eff off. You’re not salting my game today.

I just picked up the second round. I wonder if this is even a date? It kind of seems like we’re bro-ing out, or something. He just told me about this girl he went on a date with two weeks ago… don’t open those floodgates, pal. You don’t want to. Two hours from now we’re gonna be all sauced and lamenting the ones that got away, I’ve seen this happen. It’s a slippery slope. Is this how we date now? Each party pays their own way and talks about the other people they’re dating, and their exes, and like, their baggage? This is so bleak. It’s like cooperative therapy. Which I guess is cool, because my health insurance doesn’t cover the mental stuff, but damn. Would this be going better if I weren’t overthinking everything or like, actually paying attention? Probably, right? Not sure I’m under control, here. Think I might be sabotaging myself, again. I wonder what going on a real date is like. Wish this were a real date. I guess it’s not. Oh well.

one step closer to underwear pancake.

listen, I tried, okay?

today was pretty swell overall. because I:

  • received my first care package from LostCrates
  • enjoyed a #TREATYOSELF solo brunch at Toms 
  • coworked at a bar in my ‘hood
  • with a new Tumblrer friend
  • who’s got amazing ideas and is pretty awesome
  • ordered in dinner
  • took a class on abandoned historic spots of NYC
  • to which I am now forever creeped out but fascinated
  • went to a “non office holiday dance party” in Gowanus
  • channeled Liz Lemon dancing with the girls
  • ATTEMPTED TO BE BOLD
  • we’ll see
  • drank for the 4th straight night in a row this week
  • will sleep in all the morning tomorrow

ok bye.

signs you really are 25 going on 40

you spend Friday afternoons at Fairway in Red Hook and are excited to shop for ALL the things

you wake up Saturday for eggs, toast, bacon, and coffee that you make every weekend for you and only you

you decided to go for an afternoon stroll to see what flea markets are selling and pay a fortune for things you really don’t need but look nice because they’re antique-y

the thought of having a beer is too much work for you

you opt for a bottle of wine, reminisce over television shows and classic movies while debating whether to clean ALL the house or not

you go out and spend $80 on new sheets

you give up trying to learn technology because you just can’t get with the times and almost decide to hire a male handyman friend to fix those things for you instead

when friends ask you to join them in the city at 11pm you decline because it’s past your bedtime

you realize you’re in too far gone spending days alone because it’s routine to be rejected when making plans with friends

The Boyfriend

  • JERRY: It's been three days and he hasn't called.
  • ELAINE: Well maybe you should call him.
  • JERRY: I can't ... I can't
  • ELAINE: Why not?
  • JERRY: I don't know. I just feel he should call me.
  • ELAINE: What's the difference?
  • JERRY: You don't understand, Elaine. I don't want to be overanxious. If he wants to see me he has my number, he should call.
  • ELAINE: Yech, look at this ashtray. I hate cigarettes.
  • JERRY: I can't stand these guys. You give your number to them and then they don't call. Why do they do that?
  • ELAINE: I'm sorry honey.
  • JERRY: I mean, I thought he liked me. I really thought he liked me. We were getting along. He came over to me I didn't go over to him.
  • ELAINE: No,
  • JERRY: Why did he come over to me if he didn't want to see me?
  • ELAINE: I know.
  • JERRY: What did he come over to me if he didn't want to see me? I mean here I meet this guy this great guy, a baseball player, best guy I ever met in my life. Well that's it. I'm never giving my number out to another guy again.
  • ELAINE: Sometimes I've given my number out to guys and it takes them a month to
  • call.
  • JERRY: Huh, good, good... well if he's calling in a month he's got a prayer!
  • ELAINE: You know maybe he's been busy. Maybe he's been out of town?
  • JERRY: Oh, they don't have phones out of town? Why do people say they're too busy. Too busy. Pick up a phone! It takes two minutes. How can you be too busy?
  • ELAINE: Why don't you just go ahead and call him?
  • JERRY: I can't call here, it's a coffee shop. I mean what am I going to say to him?
  • ELAINE: Just ask him if he wants a to get together.
  • JERRY: For what dinner?
  • ELAINE: Dinner's good.
  • JERRY: Don't you think that's coming on a little too strong? Isn't that like a turn off?
  • ELAINE: Jerry, He's A GUY!
  • JERRY: Well this is all very confusing.

#foreveralone XMas eve 2k10

I didn’t know how tonight would be for me seeing as this is the first Christmas I’m spending alone. I went out for brunch which was nice, I wrapped up presents, I watched all my Christmas cartoons, I pigged out. but now what?

the internet is shotty, Netflix is hopeless, and it’s as silent as can be in this place. no one will be here til tomorrow afternoon and I’m absolutely bored out of my skull already. I’m anxious to get surprised by my presents - I deserve some good gifts considering how this year has treated me. I’d like to be surrounded by people I love. one of them leaves me tomorrow for 3 months which is sad enough. now I gotta sit here all day by myself tomorrow and entertain my brain while everyone is out with their family and I patiently wait for the family to arrive.

I hope to see and do the traditional tourist stuff tomorrow. I want to freeze my ass off walking up 5th Avenue. I want to wait huddled at the bar at Carmines. I want to stuff my face with tomato bread and pasta and swap stories. I want to get hugged by my mom.

I don’t know how people cope being a million miles away from home on such an occasion. I’m only 2hours away and I feel lonely.

I miss my dog, too.

let’s hope I get some solid sleep in tonight.

wherever you guys are, I hope you’re having a great time and are surrounded by people that love you.