Possible pink eye: Thank you poor decision making skills

I went out last night with a girl that I met at a Meetup. I haven't seen her in a while and she's pretty awesome. We went to Blockheads (aka Benny's Burritoes if you go to the one near Union Square). After happy hour drinking of delicious red nosed bulldogs (they were out of pink lemonade), we found ourselves wandering towards the train that could take us to Brooklyn Bridge Park. It had gotten a little chilly and we decided that an outdoor event is not what we wanted to attend so we ended up at "Honey" which is kind of a bar/loungey place. I loved it. I literally fell in love with this place at first sight and sound. The music they played is what I wanted to hear and they had a drink special which was lovely. I didn't partake in the drink special and actually ended up going straight for the Long Island. This Long Island got me really hot and so I decided I didn't want to wear my glasses anymore. So without washing my hands or anything I popped my contacts in, in the middle of the bar while Kris held my drink. This was an awful decision and now my left eye is incredibly red and irritated and I really hope it doesn't end up being something worse than just redness.

Dancing and a two great Long Islands later, Kris decides that she's ready to go. That's cool, we go outside where we are greeted by a guy who wants to talk to her. They chat a bit and I decide while she's flirting, I'm going back inside. I can hear my favorite Jamaican song through the door just calling my name (I actually missed the whole song because the DJ only played a little bit and I procrastinated too long). I wish I could've bumped heads with Monica again to this song, but alas, it was not meant to be.

Kris comes back inside and I go get us drinks. I have found out at this point the Kris' birthday is on Saturday and so we're all celebratory now because who doesn't love celebrating birthdays?! (I know some people don't, but those people can keep quiet right now.) We dance, I drop half of my third Long Island and it shatters on the floor. I think Kris judged me at this point, but I hope not.

We left not too long after, it was before midnight, but Kris decided to take a cab back to Brooklyn. Myself, being a hater of cabs unless they are incredibly necessary, walked my ass to the train. Somehow got on the right train, sent random drunken text messages, fell asleep and miraculously woke up at my stop, dragged myself home, amazingly remembered to put my leftovers from happy hour eating into the fridge, took out my contacts, took a shower and passed out.

Waking up this morning really blew and I came into work two hours late.

Awesome Thursday night. I need a goddamn nap.

Car crashes and train serenades: a typical Tuesday.

I went on a date yesterday.

This guy that I will call Dominicaitain has been trying to get me to go out with him for a little over a week now and I agreed to let him take me to see Fast Five and buy me dinner, because I wanted to see the movie and I love to eat.

After leaving work the Mexican and I went to the Vitamin Shoppe to purchase supplements and protein powder. It was a half an hour of pure laughter because I was being absolutely ridiculous and the young man working at the store was being lovely. I was trying to decide what protein mix to get, because I discovered after by first surgery that I was not a creamy shake fan and that I definitely could not drink one every day. I have also decided that I will be having a shake for breakfast every day and not snacking any more, so the purchase of a protein shake I will actually drink was really important. I decided that a banana shake would be most acceptable, everything else is too creamy and dessert like to me, and although bananas can whisper dessert, they SCREAM breakfast. So again, after a half an hour of laughing, being ridiculous and harassing the young man working at the store, we scooted off to the next destination. I decided that being a little late was perfectly acceptable and this was confirmed when I received a text from the Dominicaitian saying that the LIRR was a hot mess and that he was running late (thank you for once, MTA) and so I felt even more justified in taking my time...so I went shopping. I went shopping at the same store I went to on Friday for my purchasing adventure because I decided on Saturday I loved the shirt I was wearing and NEEDED it in another color. Boy, I was making a lot of decisions...rare! However, my decision making prowess was pretty much enhanced by the fact that we were going to literally walk past the store and I had time to spare so why not kill two birds with one figurative stone (credit card).

Please note that the V train is now the M and this picture 

doesn't convey how obnoxious this station really is

I made it down to Chelsea probably on the same train as Dominicaitian was on.


TANGENT: To get from the 6 train at 51st street to the E/M at 53rd street staying in the station is a disaster. There are so many escalators and bottlenecks that I wished I had just walked the extra few blocks from 59th and Lex straight to the E train so I could've avoided that debauchery, but what's new?

Anyway, I arrived and we had one of those awkward text "conversations" that went something like this

Me: I'm here

Him: Where r u at? Just got here

Me: Just got off the train, SW corner (we agreed to meet on 8th Ave and 23rd, and of course each cross-section has 4 corners. What are you wearing?

Him: Long sleeve and headphones...i see u.

Of course at this point now I'm swinging my head all over to place trying to catch sight of a person with long sleeves and headphones on (not that this couldn't be half of the goddamn people on the street). I look like a fool. I decide that I'm just going to plant my feet, look in some unknown direction and wait for him to approach me.

Waiting...waiting...waiting... (this took all of about 30 seconds) *RING RING*.

He calls me and says this "Why didn't you cross the street?"

Dominicaitian, were you not the one who said you saw me and not vice versa? You obviously watched me looking around awkwardly trying to locate you, and I was not standing facing your direction, so my mission was not a success...Therefore, why would you think that I would cross the street in a random direction? Was I supposed to guess which of the other 3 corners you were on? Silly Dominacaitian.

I saw him though, and moseyed over to where he was. We went to the movies and it was nice. Delicious popcorn left two not so delicious stains on my brand new shirt though. I was a little surprised that he didn't even try to hold my hand, or touch my leg or make any kind of physical contact. I slightly worried that he was not physically attracted to me, although, just for honesty's sake - I'm not all that attracted to him (but his height is great and his demeanor is sweet and he's easy to converse with. Sadly, he has messy mostly bottom that actually show when he talks - my bottom teeth aren't the best, but you hardly ever see them. Also, he's not quite as svelte as I generally like them, but maybe that's better. He has a very cuddly vibe, although at this point I really only want to friend cuddle). Anyway, I shifted a few times in my seat to try and prompt him to, I don't know, touch my arm? Take my hand? Who knows, but I wanted him to show that he was at least a little interested in me. What I got in response to my shifting however was an "Are you ok?"

I think I physically slumped at that point feeling kind of defeated. I guess my flirting capabilities in a dark movie theater are subpar at best, but I kind of like that he was into the movie and let me be into the movie.

Appropriately, considering the movie we saw, there was an accident outside. A taxi cab driver decided that taking a right from the inside lane with an 18 wheeler on its left making the same right turn would be a good idea. The taxi was SQUISHED between the 18 wheeler and a parked armored security truck. The windows were busted and the cabbie was still inside. I know he was embarrassed because EVERYONE and their mother in Chelsea were taking pictures and laughing at him. I did not laugh, but as you can see, I took a shitty picture (or Dominicaitian took it for me - so I blame the shittiness on him)


We went for pizza after that and I learned about his family and things like that. Sounds like he's got a decent ones, most with college degrees or at least going to school. His older brothers are married and have children WITHIN wedlock. Maybe there's hope yet...except he does this nervous breathy chuckle thing quite often that got on my nerves more than once but I smiled and went with it because I was trying not to be all nitpicky with things I didn't like (which is generally what I do with everything).

I actually got home quite fast, but I was cursed yet again, by the train gods. I swear they always have to throw a crazy/drunk/homeless/smelly/loud person onto the train with me, or at least a combination of at least two of those attributes. This one was particularly loud and drunk, and most likely very homeless and crazy. I luckily didn't have to smell him! He sat on the floor of the train, which makes perfect sense considering all of the amazing qualities he possesses. He sang, the ENTIRE ride home, from my stop until the one just before me. He didn't have a nice voice however. It sounded like a dying/crying cat with a bad itch in their throat that was strained from crazy loud rantings earlier in the evening..and he was off-key. Through all of this though, I was able to laugh because his song selection was impeccable. If the man was going to sing so horrifically, at least he was singing the Mickey Mouse Club song. Yes, I laughed hysterically as he spelt out "M-I-C K-E-Y, M-O-U-S-E." I also chuckled through his rendition of "Man in the Mirror" because I don't think he has looked in a mirror for a VERY long time, and he definitely was trying to start with someone else on the train as opposed to himself.


All in all, a pleasant Tuesday. Steel Pans (who I will talk about at some point in the future) didn't come over yet again. I'm about to knock him off of the BC list because he has just been unavailable lately!

Oh and I did have my protein shake this morning, and it was delicious enough that I think I can tolerate replacing one meal a day with it.

Cartouches and Firefly - How to remember the bad times and forget the good.

I realized a few minutes ago that when I talk about actual occurrences, it's probably more entertaining than talking about what I need to do in the future and blah blah blah. My reality is actually quite entertaining sometimes. Therefore, I will tell you about my weekend.

Earlier last week my best friend, B's sister (we'll just call her Sister) asked if she could borrow my car for her daughter's first basketball game on Saturday. This was perfectly great since I had made plans to meet this guy that I had spoken to online for a bit for dinner. He was cooking, and I never turn down a homecooked meal. He also lived a total of 5 minutes from Sister, so it worked out swimmingly. I had also agreed on Saturday to help my coworker and good friend the Mexican move from his apartment in Brooklyn to his new apartment in Astoria (which really makes me sad actually, but he knows this and it couldn't be avoided). On top of helping the Mexican move, I had agreed to go to birthday celebration with the Bodyguard in Manhattan and who also lives in the Bronx so that I could go back to Sister's on Saturday night and take my car home on Sunday.

Everything was planned tightly, just how I like it.

Friday night was a really interesting experience. I decided to go shopping after work because Saturday night there was a party at this club in the Bronx that I was supposed to go to with the Bodyguard and it was animal print themed and me, who typically hates prints, had nothing to wear. So I took a nice hour long trip to my favorite store, Arden B, to get some form of acceptable outfit along with a few other items here and there. I get home around 8 and try to pull myself together to go to the Bronx for dinner with a guy I'll call Spirituality Zealot (SZ). Now I didn't know this about him before I got there, we got along decently well, and as I said, I never turn down a homecooked meal. It took me a while to get my shit together honestly, as I was talking to B for a while because she was coming into her town for her niece's basketball game and I tend to dilly dally a lot.

At 9:30pm I left the house with my weekend bag packed, which included about 5 different outfits and of course, two bottles of liquor. So I get to SZ's apartment and outside there are little hoodlum kids and I'm not feeling the most comfortable in the world, and he finally comes out of his building and I get to go up a five floor walk up listening to this tweenager spit some rap bullshit about "fucking bitches" and "smacking up a ho" or something to that effect. I did a lot of eyerolling, but I looked great otherwise! We got upstairs and it was actually really cute. His apartment was tidy and he was still finishing cooking and in the living room was a small table with two candles on it and the lights were all low, or off because it was "hot from cooking", or he was just trying to set some kind of mood. I thought it was sweet and a bit romantic.

He wouldn't let me see what he was making and so I just wandered around the apartment and into his room where his room was covered with random pictures from magazines and weird other stuff. It was like being in a nerdy teenager's room with poor taste in art, but I humored him. I saw some Egyptian ruins and these two cartouche's and me trying to be classy, I asked him what the hieroglyphics in them said - and honestly I don't think he even knew what a cartouche was (to the left), even though he had one on his wall. He tried to play it off though and that was the beginning of a downslide - or at least the hint of it.

I tried to make conversation based on the random things on his walls and the empty fishtank in his room and over the sound of the air purifier that took "white noise" to a whole new really loud level. Soon enough we sat down at dinner, and he had picked up the type of wine I like, which I thought was sweet - even though I was a little disappointed he didn't know what Riesling is. We started to eat and the garlic bread was awesome, white the spaghetti was bland (DESPERATELY needed salt, and was a bit overcooked) and the chicken parm was...well just a thin cutlet with tomato sauce. It was the gesture that mattered though, so I applauded his efforts and got over the subpar food, taking in a glass of Riesling as if it would provide a little flavor to the meal.

I got all the flavor I needed/wanted though, in his conversation. He told me about his passion for studying and how he likes to study all the time about mythology and religions and old cultures. That's fine, not really my thing, but I did love learning about the Greek and Egyptian mythology, so I tried to relate. I asked him a few questions here and there, but I soon realized he was something like a zealot and he was trying to impress me with his knowledge of religion. Honestly, I thought this was ludicrous because I told him immediately that I did not believe in God, I was not religious by any means and that I was in fact agnostic. He tried to talk to me about the "Nostics". This was pretty much all he was talking about, how people loved talking to him because they felt like he was enlightening them and he had all of this knowledge and how he liked to analyze everything. He mentioned he didn't like watching movies for entertainment, he liked watching them to analyze them for religious nuances and a "message". (what the hell is that all about?)


Basically, this guy stood for everything I stand against. I am not spiritual. I am not a fanatic in any way. I do not study religion, and I am not spiritual (bears repeating). I take most things at face value and don't try to read too much into a "message". When he told me he wrote an 8 page paper analyzing some stupid movie and the hidden meanings, I shut down.

He kept trying. He kept patting himself on the back and saying he thought he was doing a great job. I forgot to tell you, he's black, as are most if not all of the men I talk to. He made it clear to me however, that I was the first white girl that he had "talked to" and while I was really trying at first - I later asked him why he was trying to impress me. He was trying to get me liquored up and wanted to use that as an excuse for me starting to get...a little mean, but I had one glass of wine and then was nursing a cup of WATER for an hour. He kept drinking though, and it didn't get better. I didn't have anything left to say to him. I couldn't fake it and make up some interests, I told him there was no chemistry and I started to feel stupid for lying to him saying that I was attracted to him earlier. I was just trying to be nice because he said he was attracted to me.

It was pretty much time for me to get the fuck out of there faster than a rat with its tail on fire. I walked myself out and to my car and tried to shake off the awful experience I had just had with someone I had NOTHING in common with.

I was sitting in my car at almost 12am trying to figure out what to do next. I had been talking to this other guy in the Bronx for a little while and we were always joking about playing strip spades (so I will call him Spades). I got a hold of him and decided while I have my car and I'm in the Bronx and not really busy, I'll go see him. So I did.

He's Jamaican, and I know some other people have this thing about sitting on the bed with outside clothes on, but only Jamaicans are the ones I know who actually enforce this. So I ended up in his sweatpants and hoodie, freezing my ass off in his room watching Martin and Family Guy. Sadly, he has that exact swag that I'm attracted to. That playful "I'm not playing with you - do this" kind of attitude and he basically took control. Even with my playful denying him, we ended up hooking up. Yup - typical me, which is actually awful and I need to get this under control. I'm trying to be more selective although that was the second new guy I had hooked up with that week. May has been a big bounce-back from April, but hopefully it won't continue on this way.

Anyway, I was laying in the bed afterward with his clothes still on and he says "One for the road?" At that exact moment, I feel unwelcome. What I just heard him say is "Let's do this again and then you can get out. You can't sleep here." Which is fine, because I wasn't planning on sleeping there, but woah - that didn't feel good. So it's like 3am at this point and he says "Try and get it up for me again?" At this point, I laugh hysterically because why would you ask for another round if you weren't ready. I wasn't rushing and now that you made me feel like I need to leave, I sure as hell am not going to do anything to get you going again. You messed up your timing there buddy.

I stand up saying "Well make a decision now because as soon as I put my pants on it's done" and he says "Then help me out." So I finish putting on my pants, take off his hoodie and put on my shoes.

He walks me to the car and I'm at Sister's house in a half hour. B and I can't figure out anything else to do and we end up passing out shortly thereafter.

Saturday, Sister, B and Niece drop me at the train station with my weekend bag back in tow because I realize I didn't need to bring any of it with me and I make my way home. Amazingly enough - I can't remember anything ridiculous happening on the train, which is new.

I get home and the Mexican is there and we collect boxes from my basement and it turns out he got a small truck and his other friend is already driving so they don't need me, giving me ample nap time.

My DVR is full so I start watching some TV trying to clear some space and I eventually fall asleep, waking up late. I'm late to meet the Bodyguard, but then again she's always late herself so it's fine.

I decided on the train in order to pole dance (which is what we were going to do) I needed to be nice and tipsy. So I decided to bring a water bottle filled with Peach Tea Firefly vodka (which is DELICIOUS) which I purchased during my last trip to Philly where the booze are cheap and I stock up. I bought lemonade at the store which took me about 10 minutes to find, making me even later. I decided on the train to take a shot of vodka every time the train stopped and chase it with a sip of lemonade.

Union Square is 8 stops from my house. 28th and Lex is another two stops. I was a little buzzed at pole dancing, but it really hadn't hit me yet. I did a little bit of swinging on the pole but moreso took pics. Then we headed up to Johnny Utah's for some bullriding. At this point, the Firefly is lighting up my life and I'm starting to feel it. I smooth talked the bouncer, about what, I still don't remember. I convinced a guy who worked there to let me wear his Stetson when I rode the bull. (Of course I had just finished reading this romance novel about a British woman and a Texan with a Stetson, so I was really excited). Having had so much vodka though, my tastebuds could no longer sense "vodka" and I got an absolut on the rocks. I complained to the bartender because I wanted him to fill it up more and he kindly explained to me that that's what vodka on the rocks was and that the glass shouldn't be all the way filled up. I submitted. I hadn't eaten - this was a bad idea. I must eat before I drink, or at least while I'm drinking, but not when I'm already drunk.

We ordered wings. The wing that I ate ended up in the plastic bag with the souvenirs from pole dancing that Bodyguard and I got. I cleaned them of the wings and vodka later that night. I sat at the table by myself I think. I was blacked out. I don't remember anything after that except getting out of this girl's car at Sister's and BBMing B that I was on my way home. I know that I was coherent though.

I didn't get to ride the bull and I woke up the next morning at around 8am not knowing half of what happened.

There's another picture of me sleeping sitting up, but at least it's not in public.

B got to fill me in on some of the conversations I had that night. I'm funny when I drink, I just wish I could remember it.

Every time I go out with Bodyguard I go overboard. I'm not kidding. There's ONE occasion I can remember in all of the times we've hung out that I was not blackout drunk. The first time I met her was the first time I blacked out. Damn, I'm an embarrassment.

Needless to say I need to get my act together in more ways than one. I'm going to force myself to drink slowly from now on. There's no more of this chugging stuff. I need to learn to get gradually buzzed/drunk.

"Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow." - Mark Twain

I went to my surgeon yesterday for my three month follow-up. He confirmed two things. I am doing well, and I need to work out more.

I've been pretty much saying this to myself for the past few weeks, especially at the beginning of May. I have these big dreams of actually going to the gym every day, or at least three times a week, and getting in a great work out. Alas, I am lazy and a procrastinator.

I swear yesterday I told myself that if I wasn't going to go to the gym after my doctor's appointment, I was at least going to go home and do crunches, squats and lunges. I lied to myself. I cooked for two hours and then was ready to lay in my bed and play computer games and watch tv until I inevitably passed out.

I do this a lot though. I tell myself things. "Tomorrow I'll start using the elliptical at home..." "Tomorrow I'll wake up early and do a little bit of cardio..." My most recent self lie (anticipated actually) is that I am going to wake up at 6am and work out for about a half hour to 45 minutes before I go to work. Now here's where the situation get sticky. If I do that, the whole morning routine that I've established with my parents may be thrown off, because I will most definitely need a shower before I go to work, otherwise I would feel really grody. We'll see how this goes though, I told myself I'm going to try it starting next week.

The other thing I've been saying is that I'm going to replace breakfast with a protein shake. Now this might actually be possible, except that I'd still have to wake up early to make said protein shake and I don't know how thrilled I am about that. I just need to solve my overeating problem. It's not that I'm eating shit, I'm just eating a lot. I should make this "Moderation May" like April was "Abstinence April" and actually stick to it.

All of these hopes and dreams for getting into shape. I should just lay on the floor at my job and do crunches.

"What are you interested in?"

This question is probably the most dreaded question I hear on a fairly regular basis. As I try to improve my circle of friends stock and meet new people, I am constantly asked this question. Now, it wouldn't be so bad, if I actually had said interests. However, I always draw a blank. I mean I like spending time with my friends (although I can't say I have a big group of them). I like watching tv (probably far too much to be healthy - and honestly who wants to say they enjoy being a couch potato...I actually want to sound interesting to these new people). I like seeing movies (don't go very often anymore, but I enjoy it when I do...but again, lazy activities). I like cooking, but only when I'm in the mood. I like baking, but haven't done it in months because it's probably better for my waistline not to have baked goods in the house. I like reading, but don't have a real specific genre I read other than "not non-fiction", and I generally only do this during my commute.

Pretty much, my greatest interest seems to be finding the negative in every situation.

I used to be involved - I used to be busy! I miss this. I'm busy, sure. I work 8 hours a day and either go to the gym after work (not as often as I should) or do something brief with a coworker, but other than that...I don't even know what I spend my time doing! I used to volunteer with non-profits. I used to be creative. Now I'm lucky if I can squeeze out half a post on a blog about how disinterested I am in everything.

What are people usually interested in? I miss playing trivia, but I can't do it alone. I don't bowl anymore because I would only do that competitively and I can't get back to Brooklyn in time. I don't know how to ride a bike. I'm no longer involved in a team sport, I don't volunteer for anything (because I can't think of what I would want to do). I'm not a gym rat, I don't cook on a regular basis, I'm not a musician or an artist of any sort. I'm not incredibly involved in spectator sports (although I do like watching from home on my tv). I enjoy traveling, but you can't really call that a hobby because I only do it every once in a while.

So what is my answer to the dreaded "what are you interested in" question? Nothing in particular.

My brain might be ready to learn something new, but I don't know what I want to learn about. I would be interested in getting my Masters, but in what? I feel like everything I've ever been slightly interested in has become less interesting. I used to love kids, I mean I was a camp counselor and a nanny, but I don't spend any time with kids any more except when I get to be stuck on the subway with an obnoxious crying/screaming kid at 8am on a Monday morning...for example. I don't want to interact with children until they are at least a year old, and even then - if they are not good communicators, keep them to yourself a bit longer parents. Thank you in advance. I used to love having a dog, but now I don't want the responsibility of a pet. I mean I'd be willing to walk it every now and again and play with it sometimes, but I want that to be on my time only - I don't want to have to rush home to walk it or feed it, or anything like that.

I kind of want to learn something, but I don't know what. I want to make new friends and actually maintain friendships, but I don't know how. I'm not social enough unless I drink, and I'm just about to quit that little habit because I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I am now officially a blackout drunk and I don't like not being able to remember. What I want to learn is how to have a real conversation and get to know someone without A. Turning Physical B.Having any interests of my own.

I actually started to feel bad for people who try to get to know me because there's really nothing to know.


I am boring...WTF!

Why are you single?

I hate this question. Really, really detest it. I mean who really has an explanation? I mean sure I could list off the typical reasons:

-too busy
-not enough freedom
-not ready
-want to get my shit together first
-haven't found the right person yet...
-I like being single!

etc...etc...etc

but in the end it's all bullshit. There's really no reason why I'm single other than the fact that I am. So please stop asking because I have no good answer for you and it just gets me frustrated.

Laziness causes cardinal dating sins to occur

If there was one overarching theme to my life, it would probably be laziness.

It came to my attention this weekend that laziness has truly invaded every aspect of my life. It's like an infection that just keeps spreading and there really are no antibiotics for this one folks. So here's what I realized. My laziness has caused me to repeated commit one of the top cardinal dating sins.

That's right, there are "unwritten" rules to dating - we all know them in the back of our minds, but I like to violate them time and time again. I like to violate a lot of them, but this post is primarily to address one in particular: the at-home "first" date.

It should be well known that unless you plan on getting physical with someone, you probably shouldn't have a whole "date" in their house or yours. Here's where my laziness kicks in - sometimes I just want people to come to me. I just want to put out my arms, wiggle my fingers and poof! have company. I like to lay around and snuggle, so sue me - I hated it when I was younger and now I just like feeling someone next to me. However, after many attempts, I have come to the realization that this is not a good way to start a "relationship" with someone - immediately getting into bed with them.

Whether or not my intentions are pure, it's basically like saying:

 from: http://bitsotruth.blogspot.com/

And let me tell you, this is not necessarily what I want. Sure I don't mind you rubbing/scratching my back like a baby. I don't mind our legs being entangled in each other, but why must you always attempt to put your hands down my pants?

I have also discovered, that the type of men who want to come over and "chill" on the first "date" are not the ones I should be spending time with. I want to be wined and dined. I want to be taken somewhere new and create memories with someone that I can go home and gush to my friends over or completely rant about later, but I just want SOMETHING. I can watch TV by myself, and quite contently. I mean, yeah it may be nice to kill two birds with one stone in that I'm clearing out my DVR while I'm "being social", but that's not what's really going on. If it were really a date, you would be keeping me thoroughly entertained with your words and I wouldn't need to watch TV, I would be captivated by you.

In fact, I think "home dates" are impersonal. By just kind of hanging out, you're really free to do and think about whatever - it's like hanging out with a buddy, there's nothing special - no spark and it ultimately leads to a boring relationship and a lot of resentment (at least from my end).

Here's where the problem comes in - my laziness and lack of decision making skills start to take over. For example, here is how my Saturday night home date went:

I came home from a Friday night/Saturday day date with some guy we'll call Honey Contacts (this was the second date and he made dinner, but it was essentially what I will be trying to avoid in the future because while all we did was lay around - I left his house exhausted at 6pm on Saturday)

I was supposed to go see Fast Five with this guy that I've been kind of talking to for a few weeks. Mind you, I'm really not attracted to this boy - he's incredibly skinny with a very Egyptian face (which I don't dislike, but I oddly prefer broader faces) and he's just so frail I think I might break him with too hard of a hug. Oh and he's my height, which is frustrating. Anyway, we were supposed to go see this movie, but he was coming from work and a haircut - and for those of you who don't deal with black men (or women) and don't understand how long a trip to the barbershop can take, I will give you a summary: IT TAKES FOREVER. It must take 3-4 hours for what I could probably accomplish in under 10 minutes with all of my head shaving skills.

So he's taking forever getting from Harlem where he's getting his hair cut, to East New York (NOTE HOW FAR HE MUST TRAVEL), where he needs to change and shower. I am still at Honey Contacts' trying to stall because he lives in Queens and I have to drive past Egyptian Face's house to get home and I would pick up him on the way. Well lo and behold, he takes FOREVER, and I end up going home because I have been with Honey Contacts for almost 24 hours and I think it's about time that "home date" ends.

I get home without picking up Egyptian Face and speak to my best friend, B. B informs me that her cousin's party for the evening has been changed and now she needs more people to come over. So now I'm considering going to the Bronx. I mean it would be easier to go on Saturday night and then just stay because the plan is to go to Sunday dinner for her brother's birthday. This is all spinning in my mind and seeing as how this other guy the Chef, has decided to take a nap (I find out later) rather than come over and cook for me (HOW DARE HE). I am now left at home waiting and doing laundry. Having already showered at Honey Contacts' I am ready for whatever.

I'm talking back and forth with Egyptian Face and he's making some suggestions about where we should go to this movie, all the while complaining that it's sold out everywhere and that his cousin didn't get the 9pm showtime tickets in Times Square like he told him to and blah blah blah...Here's where my poor decision making skills come into play, I think to myself "I should just have him come here for a few hours and then he can go home and I can drive to the Bronx - therefore I'm already at my car and don't have to go to the city and back. BRILLIANT!"

This is not brilliant.

I should be in the Bronx by 9, but I agree to have Egyptian Face to come over, and although he doesn't realize how far I live, I do and I should really factor time in a bit better - but since I've been kind of blowing him off lately I still agree. He decides to take a cab, costing him almost $30, which I always feel a bit bad about because I really could've picked him up - but I'm not a chaffeur! We hang out for a little while and then I decide to watch all sorts of girly things (i.e. Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice and The Ellen Show) and he decides he's tired so we snuggle a little while I watch tv and...out like a light. He goes to sleep. Now I can wake him up at this point and say "you can do this at home" because really, what is the point of having him there except to have a body next to me? But I don't. I decide I am too comfortable even with him drooling a little bit on my shoulder, tired and not completely not interested in driving anymore to go to the Bronx to drink (which my tired body doesn't seem to thrilled about in the first place) and so I let him sleep. And then I sleep.

We probably spent about 45 minutes talking to each other - if that. This is what my dates are like. Not that I want anything with Egyptian Face, but this is just an example of how home dates don't work.

Home dates are booty calls, with or without the booty.

At least with Honey Contacts we went out and had dinner and a movie on date one. Also, I'm trying not to be as easy as I have been in the past. All in all, this weekend was a success without being a total success. The success rate would drastically improve with the elimination of these home dates - but they're what I know how to do.

 from: http://bitsotruth.blogspot.com/

My goal for the near future is to make guys take me out more. No more can you just come over and get comfy, we can get to know each other better when we can focus on each other and not the bed or couch. If you're not creative enough to think of something for us to do outside of the house - I don't need anymore boring in my life, please go to someone else's home.

I'm going to have to figure out a way to balance my love of cuddling with my need for social stimulation. It's time to broaden my personal horizons and start talking to people who have something to offer me, because I have something to offer! Even if I can get a  little lazy...

Inspire me.