Get back to work!

Effective 9/10/07, I rejoin workforce, will update you on office eye candy and such soon. I have my fingers crossed that there will be plenty of boys to amuse me in-between less satisfying endeavors, like emailing, reading, copying and stapling, that's usually how one spends their first week.

Tree in the Forest

If you kind of fuck, but no one gets off, can you still claim you're celibate?

2 months down, 4 to go.

Make me a freakin offer already

The job search is on, plenty of interviews, plenty of - hire me, i'm the greatest, how have you managed without me, I'll come in early, stay late, i'm smart, i'm cute, i'm eager to learn, happy to take on more than my fair share, will work twice as hard and produce three times as much as either person sitting in the cubes beside me...

So far I've gotten 2, dont accept another offer until you speak to us first, we however reserve the right to keep looking for someone better, who wants less money. It kind of has the familiar feel of dating. He wants you, but if someone blonder, thinner, younger, with bigger breasts comes along he'd choose her over you without giving it a second thought. The old, I don't want to commit, unless ofcourse you give me an ultimatum, and then I'd reconsider you.

I might just have to work for a woman.

It's time

I need a job. I'm broke. I'm bored, and I want to get paid to sit my ass in a chair in an office rather than on my couch, in my apartment for free.

It's been a good time, 5 months, 3 trips (two visits to Europe and a week in the Caribbean). That bi-polar ex-beau I bitched and bitched about was well worth the headache when you factor in his house on the beach and his generous gift of my own set of keys and whenever I want access. Did I mention the sweet outdoor shower, with both hot and cold water? No matter how hot it is outside, and it got pretty crazy hot this summer, you never quite get over ice water outdoor showers. 3/4 turn of the knob on the right and 1/4 turn of the left makes for the perfect after beach rinse off temp. Good times, my friends, good times. June was pretty much spent on the strip of beach less than 20 steps from his front door. That gig is long over and the cash on reserve is running low.

I'm getting myself ready. I've tried on my corporate looks, am most comfy with tight skirt suit, office sexy variety, wearing contacts not glasses. Interview suits are pressed, have 3 ready, so if I'm well received on the interview circuit, I'll have a few options. Yesterday I wore heels for a whole day, in my apt., as part of the training required to assimilate me back into the workforce. Seriously, I have my alarm clock set for 7:30am and I'm actually getting up, not just noting the morning hour, hitting off and returning to my peaceful morning sleep. I get up, go downstairs, get a deli coffee and come back up to 5A. I then sip my coffee as I leaf through magazines and watch MTV Video wake-up.

I must've logged in 1,000 hours watching MTV this summer and am ready to find out who Diddy picks in the very adorable, making the band 4, which I am enjoying so much, I regret not having watched 1 through 3. Seeing Donnie practically tear up on the episode where Diddy picks guys from the house to help him eliminate players nearly broke my heart. I've gone as far as logging in to makingtheband.mtv.com just so I can cast a daily vote for the white boy. Which reminds me I need to set my DVR so I can record the episode where P announces who made the band. August 26th, 10pm.

I take my reality TV seriously.

I love my DVR.

***

Starting August 20, I step up my return to work training. The alarm will go off at 6:30am, instead of 7:30 and it's heels everyday.

Can't hardly wait to accept a job offer and blog from a cube.

Wish me luck and let me know if your company is looking.

2 more reasons men make me sick, not "hot"

Does anyone remember the George Costanza style short balding guy I went out with twice? Well, after our 2 date roll, I confirmed what I already knew, that short bald guys don't get me hot. I tried, we went out, it was okay, but mostly he was a simpleton and conversation although pressure free, was interest free as well. Baldie and I had nothing in common. He seemed harmless and after my recent bout with bi-polar Doug, a night out with a classic nice guy seemed like a fine thing to do. I gave a not hot, not tall, not good looking, not rich nor successful guy a shot. It seemed liked a sporting thing to do. And as I said before, I tried, I was open minded, not completely shallow, and it didn't pay off. You'd think the gods of he said, she said would note that I had gone out with an ugly guy and cut me some kind of dating break. Not to be.

Before I left for vacation I told Not Hot Bald Guy that I didn't see us having a relationship, basically because we had nothing in common, I'd be busy and am planning to leave NY in October anyway (a lie). I though that would be enough to end our 2 date friendship. Not so. He called a few more times, I was polite but ended each conversation with I'm busy, can't see you, and since we have nothing in common and I'm moving soon, it makes sense that we don't go out again. I was firm but kind. Or so I thought. The call volume increased, even though I had made it clear I wasn't keen to speak again, and I know he understood it on some level because as I began screening his calls he began calling from a variety of different 212 numbers to throw me off the track and trick me into picking up. My response was to screen more stringently and eventually I ended getting a mass of voice messages and 10 page texts about how he didn't understand why I wasn't calling him back, taking his calls, etc. Was I okay, he was worried, why was I being rude? What had he done to offend me? Blah, blah, blah. It was getting freakin annoying so I sent him a 2 line text: I'm not interested in you, please do not contact me again. And just as i hit send the final wave of insane voice and text messages came through. Apparently I am a cruel bitch, "who's done this before", I used him (??) He liked me, he deserves an explanation, he was nice to me and I am evil. As a woman, I am not free to stalk men, nor do I have any desire to. If a guy says I'm not into you, I back off. If he sends mixed signals like booty calls, etc. I understand he's into the sex but not into me. I do not respond to an overt screening my call blow off by using trick phone numbers and calling from restricted lines. Unbelievable.

Another reason men make me wretch: Bi-polar Doug who pretty much Jekyll/Hyded me for a few months, loved me on Sunday, blew me off Monday, stalked me on Tuesday, thought we were wrong for each other Wednesday, missed me on Thursday (you get the point) had the nerve to email me again. As if the text he sent recently didn't go through... I don't plan to respond to him ever again. He was really hot, but not that great in bed for a bi-polar whack job, not worth the effort, the bullshit, etc. I'm over it, and his occasional pathetic how are you text just pisses me off, cease desist, drop dead.

I could call Guilliano, the sexy foreign guy, he was cute and has left the appropriate amount of messages, and since I'm not returning his call, he stopped calling, it shows me he's sensible has some self respect, is hot and can find a cute girl for sex easily, so why don't I call him? It's rather hot out, need cooler weather, cooler men, would rather masturbate than put up with bullshit.

Have a feeling it's gonna be a while.

don't write, don't fuck - what do you do?

Heat has subsided (a little), but libido hasn't increased.

Back in NY and weather is not helping me feel "romantic"

i.e. still too hot to fuck

The eagle flies with the dove -

CROSBY STILLS NASH AND YOUNG lyrics

Too darn hot

I noticed it about a week ago (my overwhelming lack of desire). I haven't had or even craved a boy in over a week. Generally, I can't go even 3 days without a roll, some cuddle, a liaison, something. And yet, for the last 7-10 days I've not once glanced at a boy with hunger in my cotton drawers or wondered what size the waiter's cock or the guy in the subway sitting beside me might be. I feel strange, weak, lost, without purpose; Am I finally over meaningless sex?

It just can't be. If I give up meaningless sex, I may never have sex again, at all. And that's not me. I like sex (a lot). I have sex (plenty of it). And just cause I'm not in love, doesn't mean I don't deserve to get some lovin. I'm not gonna wait for a special guy - gonna wait for a dip in the heat. I realized today post text from 2 boys I'd normally meet (Guiliano and MG, my point exactly, I never turn down MG), that I'm just not interested in sex right now, cause it's a hot sweaty business and I'm hot and sweaty enough as is.

The a/c is on - I am off. Hope this heatwave ends soon.

I don't know what I want

But I do know what I don't want. I don't want to work. I can't express in words (but maybe via interpretive dance) how much I have enjoyed my 3 months (so far) of living off savings and not reporting to work. I am my own boss. I take afternoons naps. I can spend an entire day wandering around my neighborhood or any neighborhood I choose. Sometimes I go to the gym, the post office, meet a friend for lunch, catch a buzz midday. I went to France and the beach and up to BF's in the Bronx.

Thursday I head to Berlin. I'm meeting a friend there. I have no work to finish before vacation pressure, no deadlines, no boss waiting for me with a large pile of work upon my return. My only responsibility is to water my plants before I go, then water them again when I return. I'll get another manicure, pack a bag, that's it. Life is good. Being unemployed is great. All the naysayers that warned me I'd be bored were wrong. I read three books, have a golden bronze tan, go out late night mid week, have sex between 9am and 5pm, am never rushing to get anywhere and haven't spilled coffee on myself or forgotten my keys or lost my cell phone. Everyone I meet tells me I look really relaxed, as if they're surprised.

Taking the summer off was a great idea, my idea, no regrets, except that it can't last forever.

Can't get printer set-up & am ready to cry

Fucking typical. I choose the righteous path of setting up the new printer (instead of having all night sex with the Brazilian) only to find it can't be done. I can't get the mac and the brother to work together even though the box clearly states mac compatable. I want to cry (for several reasons). Every techie friend I have is mad at me cause I don't want to have sex with them anymore.

I will try again tomorrow to get the printer to work, and if it doesn't I will a) throw the laptop into the street from my fifth floor window, or b) place an ad on Craigslist for nice techie to come by and set up printer for $$$$.

3 cheers for craig and his lists and for the techie that will save me!

I might be ill - even date with Brazillian and night of sex ahead bores me

Somebody take my temperature. It's early friday and I've planned to spend tonight with Guliano, the Italian from Brazil, I mentioned he was cute, and damn, he really is. Shouldn't I be glad that he called for a second date? I guess, but guys are ample these days and I suppose you have to be hungry to want to eat. There is no chase in the chase, boys give in so easily. I'll admit, it's nice not to have to beg for it, but then again, begging would be fun too --- can't remember the last guy that I actually had to scheme to have.

I'm bored. Easy dick, is just that, easy. I'm craving something more complicated this weekend. Guiliano, with his brilliant blue eyes, thick curly hair and accent are getting blown off tonight. Sorry, but it has to be done.

I need a new printer (that implies I have an old printer, but I have NO printer), I will buy one today, set it up tonight.

Time to crank the A/C, I'm taking the night off.

Boys with accents make me swoon or "Sunday update"

Sunday with Guilano was nice. He was adorable and I was pleased to parade him around the neighborhood. Earlier, I bumped into my neighbor, a creep, who offered to have sex with me if I find myself lonely or horny and in need of some affection. He recommended I knock on his door. I laughed in his face, pretty much let him know that I would not be that lonely or horny, EVER. Later when Guliano and I were walking hand in hand down 4th Street we bumped into my creepy neighbor and I gave him a look that screamed, why would I ever knock on your door, you ugly fuck, when I have the option of a guy this cute, c'mon, do I look lonely, in need of affection?

Guiliano was romantic, funny, must have told me I was beautiful at least 50 times. I taught him a new expression, "don't hold your breath" and I failed when I tried to explain the difference between though and although. I was wrong about his English. He actually spoke well. He understood everything I said and his responses were sophisticated despite his only being in the U.S. eight months. He used past tense when he was discussing the present but that only made me like him more. The accent was amazing and his 30 second phone call in which he spoke Portuguese could have easily made me orgasm. Blue eyes, curly dark hair and a 4 year old in Brazil, named Gabriel, which probably means he also has a wife or worse a girlfriend he really loves. He said he's been living like a monk in NY and that was enough to make me believe it was because he was trying to be faithful to whatever is waiting for him in his country, Brazil, a place where it never snows. His first snow was in NY and he mentioned it was beautiful, but of course, difficult to walk in.

After the wine bar and our stroll I invited him up to my apartment. We had sex twice over 5 hours, but mostly we talked and he asked me to look in his eyes, but I couldn't. The sex was sort of awkward and I told him we could have had a beautiful first time if we had actually known each other and he told me that Americans are repressed despite the fact that we have "Girls gone wild" and are world leaders in the porn industry. He said you could spend a year talking, but everyone is a stranger the first time they remove all their clothes for someone. He said it was really nice hearing someone say "your cock feels so good," and "deeper" in a language other than his own. I wanted to tell him he showed me more kindness and warmth in one afternoon, than the last guy I dated did in over 4 months, but of course, I didn't.

Clearing Clutter

So I'm reading this feng shui, clear clutter from your home, hence your life, book and it advises to toss junk out, but I'm finding it hard. I found 10 or so journals of stuff I wrote since I moved to NY in 1999. Some of it is from a screenplay writing class I took at NYU -- it made me laugh, here goes (cause I want you to laugh too), fiction written in 2001, posted in 2007 for you.

Fiction:

The dentist reprimanded me today, too much tartar, wanted to know if I'd been flossing. He asked a lot of questions, too many for my taste, and I didn't appreciate the tone when he asked if I grind my teeth. What's he suggesting? Self righteous, religious right, obviously thought it was the teeth grinding associated with drug use. He spoke to me with a "I've known your family a long time attitude." I should have told him the tartar buildup was from sucking entirely too much cock, and that I would stop immediately and adopt a new regiment of oral care. Brush, floss, wax, 5 x's a day. That's what he wanted to hear. Takes a real sadist to be a good dentist, and Doctor Super Teeth is precisely that.

I have to look for a new dentist, but there could be repercussions, he's a vengeful bastard for sure and will probably call my mother when I miss my next cleaning. I can hear it now, I think your daughter has a drug problem, did I mention my son just got his MBA, Wharton, I know, it's disappointing, we really wanted Harvard, sad how we love our children, give them the best dental care and they let us down.

Friday - Update

Guiliano, the waiter called, his English is as bad or worse than I remembered. He was able to say I was beautiful and had a nice name and that Sunday afternoon would be a good time to meet. He sounded so shy and mentioned in Brazil women don't like to call men, they liked to be called or maybe he thought that was an American custom. Not sure. He said he was 34, which surprised me, because he looked so young. Maybe he meant 24 or something entirely unrelated and I just couldn't understand. He's been in the U.S. eight months.

No date tonight - met a friend, saw a movie, You Kill Me, which was a disappointment, Ben Kingsley, Tea Leoni and Owen Wilson, acting was ok, story was kind of off. Movie didn't flow. The friend is actually a former beau, but so much time has passed and he's changed so much, I hardly believe him to be the same man, the one that drew me in days following the shake-up of New York, September 11, 2001. I remember the night we met and the months following, me and the entire city took a hit and needed a salve, and he was supposed to be that for me, but wasn't. He caused more pain, further scars and since he had so many of his own, I have long since forgiven him. And now, when we meet, see a movie, have dinner afterwards, I realize I never really understood him and saw only what I wanted to see and what I needed from him. I wanted someone who couldn't love me, wouldn't love me, hardly liked me at all. And he did all three, and I never thanked him.