And then he wanted to be little spoon...

That's right, HE wanted to be LITTLE spoon.

Hell to the fucking no! I will not be made to seem gargantuan and the man in this situation. You want me to wrap my arms around YOUR back. Who the fuck do you think you are?

Phew. All of that being said, let me recap my evening for you.

After manicures with the Mexican, we went downtown to this shitty bar named "Nowhere". That's right. We went NOWHERE. The bartender was a sweetie though, and it was a gay bar, so who was I to complain really? I was just there to kill time with the Mexican before his other friends got there and I could make my way to Honey.

Writings on the wall of the restroom at Nowhere Bar.

We got pretty schnocked within the first 30 minutes. It was glorious. I was starving. I couldn't even finish my last drink. I missed the bus by 10 seconds and ended up walking from 1st to 8th Avenue. For those of you who don't know, avenues in NYC are long. There is a drastic different between "blocks" and "avenues". 10 blocks is not a lot. 10 avenues makes my shin splints ache just thinking about it.

I was moving quickly though, because I was drunk...and even if I wasn't ACTUALLY moving quickly, it felt that way. I wanted a taco. Badly.

The taco truck took 20 minutes. I almost shit a brick and punched a Mexican. Not THE Mexican, A Mexican.

I met up with Feathers and Heels at Honey. I have pictures. I also forgot my camera at home, so they mean nothing to you right now. This crazy guy who semi stalks all of us sometimes was going to by me a drink, but D was refusing to serve him because he's a little nutty. I eventually walked away. The drink was not worth it.

The rest of the night was pretty standard, no weird run ins with Abdul at the bathroom...although he propositioned me again. I insulted his stamina though. He might not be so happy about that. Oh and I saw the boy that I desperately have a crush on, who is 20 years old and I gave at least three drinks to. He is looking even better than usual these days. Goddamn cradle robbing. 

I pretty much RAN to the train station at a quarter to 12 because at 12am my train was going to start running in sections, and we all know how much that makes me hate my life.

Guess which classy lady made it to the last Q train going all the way to Coney Island? YUP! I made it, guys. It was glorious. I was on cloud nine. It was fluffy.

When I got to my block I met up with this guy who I've had terrible sex with before. Yes, terrible in that it was boring. I told him this. Like every man in history, he needed to protect his pride/ego/penis and wanted to prove to me that he could rock my world. So we've been talking again lately, because I've been drinking a lot, and I like my world to rock - I don't get motion sickness.

He wanted to cuddle last night though. That was fine with me. I would've liked him to stick it in, probably...but whatever cuddling is fine.

Here's what actually went down though...wait for it...wait for it...

NOTHING.

We talked about sports for a little while, whilst watching ESPN. This is typical. Then it came time to cuddle.

He didn't want to cuddle me, he wanted to be cuddled by me.

I was flabberghasted. I made sure I heard him right.

"You want me to be the big spoon?"

"Yes."

"So what you're saying is YOU want to be LITTLE spoon?"

"Yes."

"Funny."

He took off his shirt and pants and we went to bed.

I tried. I tried to cuddle him once, but my heart got all racey because it was such an awkward situation and I was dehydrated and any kind of movement was requiring a lot of energy. Ten seconds in, I bailed. I scooted away. Caught my breath and drank some water.

Thank god he's a silent sleeper, or I would've killed myself/him.

I don't know why he didn't leave. We didn't make eye contact in the morning. I don't know if he was kidding when he said "thanks for the cuddle, I needed that." I think he might just be crazy.

I can't handle it.

The nerve.

I WILL NEVER BE BIG SPOON. GET THAT STRAIGHT. (He might not be...that's the problem.)

Addendum - Never say never. Basically if we've been in a relationship for a while and you need a snuggle, I get it. It won't be for very long, but it could happen. However, if we are hardly even booty calls, do not under any circumstances expect anything but a fork...and I will not be the fork either.

Chicago comes to New York!

I'm a negative blogger. I prefer rant posts to anything else. Either ranting or drunken recall, and since I've neither been upset nor drunk lately, I have little to no blog material.

I have decided it might be time to recap Mo's trip to NYC. This is just a boring recall, I apologize in advance for the lack of snarky commentary. I'm just kind of blah. I really want bread.

As you may already know, Mo arrived on Thursday 9/22 in the evening...this means that we were at Honey.

Since she was getting in late, the Mexican and I decided to go get Korean fried chicken. We wanted to decide who had the better chicken between two places, so we went to both. We went to Bon Chon and then Kyo Chon in Koreatown. I was feeling OK, but again I was getting a little burpy which is never ok before drinking.

We parted ways and I headed to Honey. It was actually a quite beautiful night, maybe a little hot and muggy, but nice regardless.  I reserved the outside so I was sitting there with Feathers and Heels, drinking. Kirk was harassing Heels and we were all pretty much trying to ignore his cocky ass. I had to get a carafe of water because I started feeling terrible and getting hot sweats from the fried food and mugginess (I have no gall bladder, so fried usually doesn't go so well with me). My stomach started to settle, thank goodness.

Before we knew it, Mo had arrived! She got out of the cab saying that she thought she was going to die in there because he was speeding down the highway. I didn't give her much time to talk before saddling her up with some pre-ordered drinks.

Shortly there after, B and her other friend arrived...we'll call him Cousteau, because it makes sense to me. He's not unattractive and he's got a decent personality. He's shorter than I am and the only guy I've ever had sex with who was. ANYWAY. The drinking had commenced.

Mo and B, reunited and it feels so good!

Cousteau and B

Anyway, the evening went on. I don't remember going inside to dance at all, but B and Mo did. I'm pretty sure Feathers did too at some point. We all got trashed. Like TRASHED. Feathers didn't remember leaving and I guess she vommed in the cab and ruined her shoes. Yet again, I managed to get everyone HAMMERED. I don't remember saying goodbye to anyone, but Mo told me a did. Cousteau drove us two blocks to the train station where Mo and I got on the train and I promptly told her what stop we were getting off at, and passed out. (I'm a really great host, I promise). I woke up right before our stop and we got off and got life saving sandwiches. I lost half of mine though. To this day, I still don't know where it is. I don't think I ate it.

Friday it rained. I had taken the day off. We did nothing. We watched TV and I cleared my DVR in anticipation of all of the fall premieres/shows. We eventually got hungry in the evening and decided it was time to get ready. We were going to Taj for Chris' birthday and wanted to get dinner first.

We got ready, packed up the bottle of Cosmo and Pomm-Appletini from Honey the night before and made our way to Union Square.

We decided to eat at Republic, and it was delicious. Then we walked in the rain up towards Taj. We were going to meet up with Feathers, but we could NOT figure out a plan, so we ended up at Taj really early. I started drinking.

We were standing on the corner and Mo said we couldn't do that because we looked like prostitutes. Then we moved under some scaffolding not too far from the corner and a crazy/homeless man basically called us lesbian hookers. I don't know WHY Mo humored him and responded to what he was saying. I tried to ignore him, but then almost got into an argument with him because I mumbled "Why can't you just disappear?" to which he responded "How am I supposed to disappear on a public street?" I retorted with something like "You didn't need to stop here. Goodbye." I ignored everything else he said. He was the one who said he would let us get back to each other and "make our money". Absurd.

So we went to Taj, got there around the same time as Chris. We got in just before midnight and they have two for one drinks. So I got two cran vodkas and two long islands. They lasted me the whole night. I nursed them and held down the bar. Dancing happened. Monica was cuffed pretty fast by this adorable boy named Dorian, and just like every time I go to Taj, the deaf people find me. That's right, deaf. I don't have a problem with the hearing impaired, but the limited sign language I know does not allow us to converse, and I really want to be able to jam to the words of a song as well as the beat. I got away that time. We left around 3:30am.

Chris dancing on her bday!

Tired Mo, need to sit.

Saturday Mo wanted to be a tourist. So we tried to make it into the new 9/11 Memorial. Unfortunately, there were no tickets left so we just ended up walking around Lower Manhattan for a little while. We got delicious Pizza and went up to Times Square. We rode the ferris wheel in Toys R Us. We were those people. Those ADULTS I should say. It was pretty glorious. Afterward, we made plans to meet up with the Mexican and one of his roommates down in Chinatown.

Freedom Tower in progress

My little pony car at Toys R Us

We were early to Chinatown and so we got some bubble tea and just hung out before going to this Vietnamese place for dinner. It was pretty damn delicious.

We had plans to meet up with VWR and Ebony Banker (EB) at this bar Legends. So we went up to Herald Square and into the bar to look for her. It was PACKED. The LSU game was on and it was an LSU fan bar. So hot. I went outside to try and get in contact with VWR and had a frustrating time figuring out what to do. She was drunk and kept asking the same questions. They finally agreed to come meet us for a little while so we went back to Legends where I promptly downed two or three cran vodkas in the hell hole they call their upstairs. It was nice to see VWR and EB though. They're a really cute couple. We stayed for about 45 mins and then walked over to HK Lounge to meet Chris for bday round two, and T for one of her friend's bdays (her friend who I've met a million times before). We didn't stay there long because our feet were KILLING us.

Mo and I left around 2, 2:30am. It took us two hours to get home, thanks to the awesomeness of the MT-FUCKING-A. Our feet were so unhappy.

Sunday Mo wanted to be touristy again. We RUSHED to get to the Statue of Liberty boat. It was actually a really nice day. We saw the Statue and Ellis Island and then went up to Curry Hill for some DELICIOUS Indian lunch. We went back up to Times Square to get some souvenirs and decided not to go see a broadway show. Instead we went back to Brooklyn and I took Mo to see the Brooklyn Heights Promenade which is the best view of Manhattan. Unfortunately, the pictures suck because it was night, but it was beautiful. We went to the movies and then home. We had to be up at 4am to go to the airport.

Liberty Island

On the boat to the islands

Overall, I had a great time. My toes are bruised a million ways and I didn't do ANYTHING (other than Honey) the next week/weekend because I needed to recover, but it was a good time.

In other news:

• As I mentioned, I booked my trips to Chicago and Jamaica and I cannot WAIT
• I bought a ton of clothing that I may or may not need
• I need to get a million pairs of pants hemmed
• I've been pretty good about going to the gym lately - my legs hurt a lot right now
• I have to shop for Jamaica and a Halloween Costume
• I need a pair of nice waterproof leather boots
• I have a cold and I'm tired of this goddamn sore throat
• I'm going to the Jets game on 11/11 and could not be more excited about that
• I lent Steel Pans $400 so that he could get his license reinstated and go back to work (baby mama drama)
• I really want a piece of cake
• These pants pockets aren't big enough for my phone
• I don't want to do anything at work

In honor of another Thursday

let me tell you  little story about last Thursday.

I didn't get home until almost 3am on Friday morning. This wasn't because I left Honey incredibly late, it's because...I went to Sheepshead Bay.

You might not think this is odd, but here's the kicker...I did not INTEND to go to Sheepshead Bay.

Let me explain.

It was a Honey Thursday. I got my nails done with the Mexican and downed a cosmo while being pampered. I made my way down to Honey, slowly. Feathers said she would be there before 7. It was 7:30 when I arrived. She was not there. I went in, did my usual rounds and got us a table in the front because it was flipping cold outside. I got my carafe and commenced drinking.

Feathers arrived, FINALLY. Heels arrived shortly thereafter. Drink drink drink. Two of my other girlfriends came later in the night and I was so happy to see them and we danced and laughed and drank and had a good time.

The bill was around $200. Welcome back expensive Thursdays.

Feathers, Heels and I walked toward Union Square. This guy wanted to take Feathers home. She was going to give us both cab money (well he was). Then he was being ridiculous so we decided to get on the train. We got to the station just as my train was pulling in. I drunkenly gave them goodbye pecks on the cheek and then sat down on the train.

I woke up, knowing I had missed my stop. I thought I had missed my stop by one, like last time.

I got off of the train in a rush, and left the station. I started walking in the direction my house should've been. I had to pee desperately, so I popped a squat against a car, thanking my lucky stars for tissues and babywipes. Whilst leaning again the car that was keeping me from falling in my own urine, I looked up at the street sign.

Avenue W.

Well folks, I live down by what would be Avenue A.

I decided the street sign couldn't possibly be right, so I continued walking. I got out my handy dandy googlemaps app on my phone and searched for my location.

Lo and behold, the damn street sign was right. I was in Sheepshead Bay. I took a moment to contemplate. Do I call a cab and pay a heinous amount after standing in the middle of creepy suburbia at 2:30am? Or do I try to locate a train station.

I started walking the direction I came from. Luckily, I only THINK I'm moving quickly when I drink. I was at the train in no time.

Neck Road. That's where I was. Neck Road is 9 stops past mine. NINE. Dear god what have I done?!

The train came within two minutes. It was miraculous.

I was on the train with 6 crazy people and a teenager with his hands down his pants. One woman was mumbling and screaming every few seconds, another man was chuckling to himself. I was being watched. I messaged VJ to tell him I was on my way home.

He met me outside the train station. We went home. I tried to dodge the tree in my front yard and get around my car. Thanks to the sprinklers, I slipped. My "good" knee hurts.

I ended up with a ginormous bruise on my left butt cheek that I wouldn't discover for another two days and just thought I had pulled something at the gym on Wednesday. I don't know where it's from.

Thursdays are dangerous. Tonight will be especially dangerous. Here's hoping I don't die, or leave Mo. Or vomit. Or leave Mo. Or fall down...or most importantly, leave Mo.


I already took Friday off to nurse my inevitable hangover.

Not so laborious labor day weekend

So here are the highlights of my weekend.


Feather and Heels didn't end up getting to my house until midnight on Friday. We began drinking shortly thereafter and made our way to this place called Crossroads in Park Slope (Super south slope). We didn't end up going in, however. This was because it was a $10 cover and looked pretty damn lame to be honest.

We did, get into two racial arguments though. The first happened when a guy mentioned something about me being white. Heels was not having this, and honestly, neither was I. I had been drinking and I was feeling quite argumentative. Heels had to hold me back before she went in on the dude. Then this girl fell. She fell face first off the curb into the street. Heels couldn't contain her laughter, and it broke the tension. I know that's mean, and I should be more sympathetic considering my falling history, but I was not the one laughing, and I was thankful that something stopped the arguing. The guy tried to apologize, and his friend tried to get Feather's number...because he liked Heels? Does that make sense? No. Stupid grown men with braids.

Anyway, we started walking up towards 5th Avenue to try and find a bar. There were two black men on motorcycles. We noted these. One day I will ride one, probably when I'm drunk and don't know any better (I know this is a recipe for disaster, but things with two wheels make me nervous). Anyway, before they took off, they switched bikes. Therefore, it only made sense for me the say

"Oh, so you guys are switch hitters. Cool."

They were not amused. One of the guys started yelling at me and cursing me out, telling me to watch my mouth and once again, mentioned something about my skintone. Heels tried to tell him that I was joking, which I agreed with, and we ended up walking away leaving them angry on their bikes. (I hope they didn't get into an accident - I know how anger makes people drive stupid.)

We went and got pizza and were talking about the whole situation and two guys outside of the pizza place basically "picked us up". We went to a lesbian bar. They bought us jager bombs. I fucking hate jager, but I took it anyway.

Then they bought us irish car bombs. These are NEVER a good idea. I not only took mine, but I took half of Feather's and half and Heels'. I then took myself to the restroom and tried to force myself to get rid of them. It didn't work so well. I shrugged it off, and went back to the bar.

One of the guys lived down the block. We went there. I laid down on...a bed frame because there was no mattress. They smoked. We went home.

These men were hoping for an orgy of sorts. Not going to happen.

The next day we lazed around all day. No one could make a decision. We started drinking at midnight. By 2am we had decided just to walk toward Flatbush for J'Ouvert. We headed towards this party VJ had told me about. Unfortunately, we decided to walk the whole way (about two miles), and the party was shut down just as we got there. VJ and his friend, who still kind of creeps me out, found us and I thought we were going to another party. Instead, we ended up at VJ's where they smoked. Heels got sick. Stupid Fanta leaf.

The creepy friend drove us home. He also tried to get into my pants.

Heels was sick the whole next day so we didn't join any of the labor day festivities. It wasn't a bad weekend. In fact, I enjoyed myself, but I think next year or whenever they come to brooklyn again, we'll definitely need a plan.

JBike came over that night and cuddled though. He brought me a shirt from J'Ouvert. It was sweet. He left in the morning and blew another damn tire on his bike. I felt awful because he was so far from home, but he got it fixed. I'm telling you, vehicles with two wheels are dangerous!

My teeth currently hurt from the dentist yesterday. Delta was trying really hard to come over yesterday. He said something along the lines of "I just want to be the Bob Marley to your Reggae." I don't know what that means, and he spelt a lot of shit wrong, but I'm now done with him again. He yet again said he was on his way over and didn't come. I told him I didn't really care if he came over or not, and that I really didn't have anything to say to him. He offered me a night full of oral sex. Sorry, Snookie is currently closed for business. I told him I wouldn't make him go home if we got into another fight, but he would have to sleep in the guest room. He said he was scared of my third floor.

I'm over it. I told him to lose my number. I really hope he does.

I ignored Dominicaitian again. I'm going to hell.

I am cruel, and unusual.

I still can't muster up enough "courage" to tell Dominicaitian that I'm not interested in him. Every time I think things have fizzled off enough that he understands I'm not interested, he sends me a message and tries to make plans with me.

I am not nice.

I am really good at faking being nice in person. I'm really good at first dates, which I hate. I can't remember the last first date I went on that didn't result in the guy wanting to see me again. I'm generally uninterested though.

Something might be wrong with me. I think I require immediate chemistry to see a relationship going anywhere. I don't think chemistry can be developed. I've tried. Epic fail, EVERY time.

In other news, I'm in a great mood. Even though my body is really pissed right now. My doctor said I have two infections that are rarely seen together. I won the fucking bacterial lottery, I swear.

That might be TMI. Ignore it.

The Mexican and I went to eat at Social Eatz, Top Chef Angelo Sosa's restaurant so that I could try the Bibimbap burger. It was delicious.

Last night at Honey was marvelous as usual, and I managed to only spend $60. I also wasn't completely shithoused, and my skin "broke out" into kind of a "rash" but it's not a rash, just the splotchy redness on my chest that I can't find the reason for. It's slightly embarrassing, but thank god that the light outside of Honey is red. You couldn't even tell if you weren't looking for it. Irritated me a lot. I ended up with a headache as well. I think I've been clenching my teeth a lot lately. That's no bueno. My dental hygienist says it's no bueno. If I have to get a mouthguard like my mother I'm going to break my jaw.

I got a lot of random numbers and BBMs last night. The hookah guy Manny, who is 20, gave me his number. I have such a crush on him. He's so soft and I just want to squeeze and hug him and possibly do dirty dirty things to him. He turns 21 five days before I turn 25, no big deal...right? He has a fake ID though. Which reminds me of J Kwon's one hit wonder, "Tipsy", which I hated. I bet Manny doesn't even know this song because he was probably 10 when it came out. Super sad face. He was born in the 90s, guys...I remember the 90s...motherfucking cradle robber here.

I met another Jamaican. He is 21. Yup, another baby. He's going back to Kingston on Sunday. We danced a bunch. The DJ finally played my song (Quickie - Miguel) followed by my other song (Motivation - Kelly Rowland). It was great times. The Jamaican, his two cousins and friend drove me home. Well, I guess one of the cousins drove (whom I may, or may not be BBMing with right now** - I seriously have no clue who I'm talking to). They live in Brooklyn so it was fine. Feather and her friend...let's call her Heels (who was on the boat ride on Friday, and is now my friend), were worried about me...but I really love rides home. It worked out magnificently. I like those boys. They're good guys. We'll possibly see them this weekend.

Labor day weekend should be splendid. I think a bunch of people will make their way to my house because I'm not so far from all of the J'Ouvert activities, or the parade.

We shall see though.

I'm tired now. Running out of energy. Don't want to wait around at work to submit this stupid grant. But my raise retroactively kicked in today! So on the pros and cons checklist for the day, I'm way up on pros.

Have a great weekend everyone!


P.S. Still being lazy with the visual aids. BITE ME.

** Turns out I realized who I was talking to. I had met this guy who knew my mom. Yes, I know that's kind of weird, but she's a high school teacher and get this. He was her student in...1998. Yup, he graduated from high school 6 years before me. I probably knew him. I probably met him when I went to visit my mom at work. He remembers her though. I don't know how I feel about this.