True Life: I'm a completely random blogger

Ok, so since I've been feeling a bit of a lack of inspiration lately, I thought having a little bit of structure and suggestion might help me to blog a bit.

I was reading some of the blogs I follow and I came across this linkup. Seeing as how I'm always looking for new blogs to read, I've decided to participate.

I guess you can write anything you really want for this thing, so I'll just follow the trend of what you will and will not find here.

First off, I'm a mid 20s gal who was born, raised, and boomeranged back to New York City. I don't appreciate anything that this city has to offer and am often more irritated by what's going on than intrigued. That being said, I do go out and try to enjoy myself and allow others to expand my exploratory horizons. I love vacations and sarcasm. I like wit and wisecracks. I like to think I'm pretty funny, but chances are there will be days when I let you down. I'm an only child who knows how to be alone, but prefers to be around people. I drink too much, I eat too much and I try to laugh too much always (because there is never too much laughter). I write what I think, I read what I can only fantasize about, and I'm pretty darn loyal. So...if you feel like following, that's awesome. If not, I might just follow you anyway or at least comment on your blog.

Will find:
1. Snarky commentary, often in parenthetical format because I always have to put my two cents into every story I tell

2. Random stories from my life that often include, but are not limited to, drinking experiences. Oh, and I'm pretty long-winded, whether that is my intention or not.

3. Ranting. It's pretty hard to live in New York City and not come across things every single day that bother the ever loving shit out of you, so sometimes I let that bottled up "emotion" explode all over this blog.

4. Honesty. I'm upfront about everything. I prefer not to really get into the heavier topics, but sometimes they seep in. This blog is a place for me to release, and I don't like to lie to myself (although sometimes, I probably do unconscious/unwittingly)

What you will not find:
1. Fashion. I am not into fashion. I like to look good, and I like to shop. I even watch project runway and America's Next Top Model (Although I RARELY talk about all the TV I watch). However, I do not have a personal style that I like to put out there, or express my opinions on. The only way you'll see any fashion commentary is if I see some awful atrocity around me and happen to take a picture of it.

2. Mommy stuff. I'm not a mom, and won't be for a while. I like kids, especially from a distance right now. While I've been a nanny and a camp counselor before, I'm 24 and have no marriage prospects, thus my child bearing potential is at a current low.Unless this "mommy stuff" is about my own mommy, then you won't see it here.

3. Consistency. I blog at work, and don't often have time or motivation. Sorry. I also don't blog on the weekends. I try to update at least a few times a week though, although August has been a bad month for me.

4. Current affairs op-ed. I don't generally keep up with current events. It's unfortunate, but I'm not incredible culturally aware. Perhaps I will become so, so maybe you should stick around for that.

I look forward to linking up with you!

I'm tired...

of a lot of different things.

This blog used to be my vent place, and maybe it will become so again. For now though, I'm kind of fed up with a lot of different situations and can't find the words to explain the situation.


Or maybe I've used too many words and explained the situation too many times and now I'm empty.

Either way, I'm riding an emotional roller coaster (the only type I can currently ride because I just got my stitches out today and my knee is not in full working order yet).

Just know, right now B and I are not on the best of terms and I don't know how to fix it. I'm victimizing myself, supposedly.

We used to be on the same page, always. Now I feel like we're in completely different books, in completely different libraries, in completely different countries. There's a disconnect that I cannot seem to repair and I'm just tired of trying. I'm especially tired of feeling like the rift is all in my head.

Mole hills into mountains.

Talk to you soon blog followers.

Bullet point recap: worst vacation ever and stressful birthday surprises

Dearest followers, I know I have been delinquent lately, so I'm going to try and sum up the past two weeks of my life in bullet point format.

I just realized that I haven't updated since August 1st. Damn do I have a lot to get through.

Week of August 1:
I don't remember anything that happened up until Honey Thursday.


Thursday:

• You might remember that I led the owner of Honey on in a charade where he thought he would get into my pants in exchange for driving me home. Well folks, I must be awesome because he said he wasn't mad at me and thus, I win.
• I made out with the short bathroom attendant. The same one that squeezed my butt the week before.

 Friday

• B was supposed to be busy the first weekend in August because it was her on again/off again boo's birthday, but he went to Vegas.
• BiL decided two weeks prior that he was going to have this gigantic cookout where there would be tons and tons of basketball eye candy/meat and great food.
• Unfortunately, I had agreed to go to PA with Niokka a few weeks prior due to B not being in town and BiL taking his sweet as time in making arrangements for the cookout.
• I took Friday off to take a bus to Gettysburg, PA (5 hours) after stressing about packing all week and being yelled at by Niokka for stressing her out when she was studying for finals. Mind you, she was the only person I knew going and was telling me all sorts of random stuff about what I was supposed to do, last minute.



Please note how far Gettysburg is from NYC

• I dragged my ass to DeKalb Avenue to be at the bus before 9:30am, I was there at 9am where I met Niokka's friend Jazmeen.

• I was constantly debating not getting on the bus (and I probably shouldn't have) because of the cookout and because Gettysburg was so far away, but after a lot of debating, we finally located the bus (incredibly late) and were on our way to the Bronx the pick up the other group of people.
• There were a lot of other people waiting for buses, some attractive, some "not so"...most of the "not so"'s got on our bus. This was a bad sign. Also, there was a lot of drinking planned for the bus ride. Mind you, it was well before noon.
• Not in such a great mood, I tried to suck it up and rest. We got to the BX and Niokka and Joanne got on the bus. The rest of the ride was filled with drinking a lot of random mixed drinks and Jello shots. It took forever to get to the hotel.



Yummy jello shots.

• We got to the hotel and pretty much everything was canceled. There was supposed to be a BBQ (what we would be having for dinner) but the organizer didn't check if they could use an indoor grill (which they could not) so that was canceled. There was supposed to be Karaoke, but the machine was broken. There was supposed to be a "male revue", but the one stripper never showed up. The DJ that was supposed to be playing music at all of the parties, bailed last minute. Basically it was bad news all around.
• I cursed out the organizer, as did a bunch of other people. Mind you, he wasn't even supposed to be the go-to person, his wife was, but supposedly she sprained her ankle the night before.
• I was pissed, everyone was wandering around aimlessly and it was just a mess. I kept kicking myself for getting on the damn bus. I could've stayed home and not taken off a day for all of that...it gets worse.
• The one highlight was that I was with Joanne and some guy (Anthony) started talking to her and the guy was with his cousin (Senio), who I started chatting with. We ended up hooking up a few times, I'll see him again in a few weeks (and I'll tell you why the delay - note, the knee).
• Anyway, Senio and I hooked up that night, I went back to my room, showered, met back up with my friends and partied a bit. Hung out by the pool, had another guy hit on me who worked at the hotel, but he got me confused with someone else, so I walked away from him. 
• Senio texted me to come back to his room to sleep, so I went back and his cousin was trying to sleep. So I basically held off his advances, but his cousin "left" and well...we got it on again. Magically, as soon as we were done, Anthony re-appeared. Now mind you, this would be a little awkward to begin with, but it gets more awkward. Senio goes to lay down and kind of passed out. I'm sitting on the foot of the bed, between his legs and Anthony and I start talking. He mentions that he saw what I did. Awkward moment number 2. Then he asks if I've ever had a threesome. Now why would I lie? So I tell him yes. He asks if I would have one with him and Senio. WTF?! Awkward 3. I say "no, not interested". He says "so would you have a threesome...without him?" and I say "so basically you're asking if I would fuck you? no." At this point, Senio wakes up and is all "what's this talk about a threesome?" and I said "your cousin just asked if I would fuck him." and Senio does the cutest thing he goes "really man?" and sits up, wraps his arms around me and pulls me down next to him to cuddle. Then we go to bed.



A creeper!

Saturday:

• My "friends" get me from Senio's room for breakfast. We go eat and then hear that all of the stuff they talked about being available to do during the day was all for winter trips and there would be no laser tag, shopping, anything...so we make our own fun.
• They play strip blackjack and then dare or double dare. Details will not be disclosed.
• We all get ready to go to crabfest in Maryland an hour and a half away.
• We need more alcohol.
• We get to crabfest and eat a lot. I don't start drinking until later in the evening, and this is the beginning of the end.



This picture was not taken by me, but you get the point.

• Niokka basically treats me like a dog and gets pissed when I won't get her more shrimp. She yells at me and I'm fed up. I slowly start to get over it.
• Joanne and I go buy bottles of alcohol from a lovely old lady who owns the bar next door to the place we're at.
• As soon as we get back I get on line for free drinks. I get two for myself, since they're my first and then I'm told they don't have any more of the punch the other girls are drinking so Niokka says to get them shots, so I get shots for everyone, or as many as they'll let me. I can't carry them all, so Niokka takes my drinks to the table. I guess she thought they were her drinks because she adds one to her cup and Jazmeen's cup, and I don't know what she does with my other one so I get back and I'm asking where my drinks are. Of course she gets mad at me because she thinks I'm being selfish...yadda yadda. She gets pissed and so do I. So I sit with my drinks and she walks away.
• I have an allergic reaction to something so my skin is all red and blotchy and hot and I look angry. Senio thinks I'm mad at him, but I confirm this is not the case.



Similar to when I was in Philly, I don't know if you can see the redness of my face and chest

• There is a concert of some sort, but I'm too furious to really care. I take the shots back to the hotel with me.
• We head back to the hotel and I almost get into it with the organizer again because he's trying to treat me like a child because everyone is being babies and arguing about who is supposed to sit where (not me, mind you...but I do have a problem with this guy AND HE'S SO UGLY).
• When we get back everyone naps and showers and gets ready for the "white party". I go meet up with Senio and take care of business, and of course, as I turn the corner to go into the bathroom, Anthony magically appears. It's a little creepy actually.
• I drink the mixed drink that I made at crabfest, very quickly. We get into bathing suits and we go dance in the hottub.

Sunday:

• The next part is a touch fuzzy. I know I disappeared with some guy and he took me back to his room. I think I was being kind of a playful asshole and he got fed up with me, so we went back to the pool...
• As soon as I got back to the pool, I slipped. I slipped on the wet pool deck and guess what. My whole entire knee opened up again. I WAS FURIOUS. What should've been a little bump on the knee with a bruise for anyone, was a completely down to the bone open wound for me. I didn't want help though. I didn't want to go to the hospital. I didn't want the gurney. I didn't want it to be a big deal. I did this back in December, I knew what was going on but no one else seemed to. They wrapped my knee up with towels. I kept telling everyone to stop helping me, stop trying to move me, just stop. The EMT comes and I tell him I just need stitches and I don't want to go to the hospital. They tell me I need to. I keep telling everyone to stop. Niokka goes "Fuck her then" and I must've responded with "Fuck you too". There was more yelling and one of the EMTs tells me that if I don't shut up, in the state of PA they can charge me for something or other. I stop talking and give up at this point. I'm not even crying, I'm just mad. They take me out on a gurney. They shut down the pool party. I tell the girls I'm with that I don't need any of them to come to the hospital with me. I guess I don't clarify by saying that it's because I don't want to ruin their night, that was a mistake. Niokka continues to yell at me. Jazmeen and Joanne try to help me, and I just ask them to pack my stuff because we're leaving in the morning.



Swollen with new stitches...

• I get to the hospital. I convince them I only need basic xrays because there's no bone damage. They tell me it's a bad laceration. I get 18 stitches. I find out that I actually got there at 6:30am. At 9:30ish, the hotel people come to pick me up and say that they called the cops on my friends. I don't know why. All I know is that I've got a set of HATEFUL BBM messages in my phone from Niokka wishing all of this terrible shit on me because of nothing I could control.I get back to the hotel, finish packing my stuff in silence. I literally talk to no one because Niokka purposely tries to make me feel like shit by talking loudly on the phone in the room next door (adjoined rooms with the connecting door open) about how she wishes me dead and all of this stuff. I still have no clue why or what happened but we will never speak again, that's for sure.
• We get onto the bus. I'm missing part of my kindle charger, my outfit from the night before (I went to the ER in a bathing suit) and my flip flops. I don't talk to anyone except when they ask if I'm ok.
• I pop a percocet and we head to the casino an hour or so later.
• My dad picks me up, thus concluding the trip from hell.

The BBMs: 

Niokka got B involved because she's the one that introduced us. We were both talking about it for two days. I am finally over it. It created a little tension with B and I though because I was upset that she was still buddy buddy with Niokka after knowing that Niokka wished me dead and was serious as cancer about it. On Thursday, we had a big conversation about our friendship and the whole situation...

Monday and Tuesday I took off of work. Tuesday night I went to Buffalo Wild Wings with B.

Wednesday I went to the movies to see the Help with the Mexican and his friend Rodderick, who lives a block away from me. He's cute and nice. It was fun. We went to a diner afterward and I definitely walked around too much. My doctor told me to stop bending my knee....I'm not doing a good job.

Thursday

• Against better judgment, I went to Honey
• B and Feather were there, or came later.
• I drank a lot even though I'm on antibiotics (I looked them up, no instruction not to)
• There was a lot of drama outside but somehow we were inside for a while
• I officially am a  hookah smoker. It's bad. Had the worst flavor, bubblegum mint. I'm going to have to talk to Manny about never getting that again.



Sad but true about me and hookah :(

• I made out with the other bathroom attendant...in the locked bathroom. It could've gone further, but thank god it didn't. I guess I just have a thing for the boys downstairs.
• B's birthday was on Sunday so we started celebrating that night.
• I spent $200 again. I don't know how, but the bill said something like 28 happy hour drinks between the 4 of us.
• We were going to go to this place called the Polar Bear at around 10pm with the waitress because Feather's friend was having an open bar, but we didn't end up going and ended up back in Honey. Just can't get away! I swear!
• I don't remember carrying around my bag, but I must've been. Weird.

Friday:

• I took off from work again because I needed to go get drinks for B's bbq and I didn't feel like going.
• I went to the drink depot and at the request of T, I got way more than I needed to. I spent $369 on just beverages for the cookout.
• Then I slept.

Saturday

• I woke up and wanted to be lazy, but I wasn't.
• I got myself together and drove to Bushwick to pick up Delka and the cake.
• The cake was late. We were still in Brooklyn around 3ish.
• I drove to the park. We couldn't figure out how to drive up to the cookout, because we couldn't!
• T and Delka had to go back and forth about 6 times bringing the drinks in shopping carts across this stupid long bridge over to the cookout.

• 

  B and the delayed cake

• I told T to leave some of the drinks in my car, but she still took most of them so at the end of the night we had to bring them back when it was drizzling
• I was BBMing with B and was selling her on the fact that she was still going to a beach party. When she arrived, she was really excited and she cried. So surprised. Sadly, Niokka brought her, which was a little awkward for me at first, but I decided just to ignore it.
• I couldn't drink anything but beer because I was driving and the beer was doing nothing for me. 
• It was a good time anyway, and B had a good time, that's all that matters.
• Oh, and some guy stole my entire case of Heineken.
• We went back to B's house after the cookout and I napped.
• It was raining, but we still left the house at around 1:30am.
• The 6 train went express and skipped our stop, so we tried to get out at Brooklyn Bridge to hail a cab...in the pouring rain.



Rain on the train

• No cabs stopped, I was soaked.
• We got onto a local 6 going uptown and got locked in and missed the 4 train.
• We arrived at the loft party at around 3am, partied for an hour and then went back home.
• I wish I could've danced more, but I've been really mistreating my knee.

Sunday:

• B's mom made us breakfast and we chit chatted.
• I left around 2pm and went back to Brooklyn
• This new guy (Terron) I'm talking to came over on Sunday night and we cuddled and watched the Hangover and he's totally into me and a super sweetheart.
• I may or may not have a tiny hickey on my neck.
• I kind of blew off Steel Pans...oh well

Monday:

• Going to see the Glee movie with the Mexican tonight and then maybe more snuggle time. I love having my back rubbed. Winner!
• I'm probably going to Jamaica for the new year and this makes me really excited.

After these messages...we'll be right back

Just wanted to let you all know that I'm not dead. I did have the worst "vacation" of my life this past weekend and although I probably have some stories to tell, I also have 18 more stitches and a lot of pent up anger.

I promise I will get back soon though. Maybe tomorrow when I actually go into my office.

I might've "shit where I eat"

Or in my case, "pissed where I drink."

It's Monday, and I have yet to tell you about my Thursday. Let me just remind you that I was drinking on Tuesday, and I was wasted last Wednesday, so it was only a natural progression to get shithoused on Thursday in preparation for my Friday off. (I took a personal day to take care of my mom).

As you know, Thursday started miserably. I was incredibly hungover and couldn't eat for the first 8 or so hours of being awake.

Things did get a little better though when I had my year review at work and got a 7% raise because they love me here. If only they knew about this blogging situation I've got going on here, maybe they would think I'm a little less productive. However, my supervisor is not here this week and thus I can take my sweet ass time doing EVERYTHING. You can be jealous.

So by 3pm I had managed to force a large bowl of soup down my throat and half of a sandwich. My stomach preparation for the evening was in full swing.

The Mexican and I were scheduled for our bi-weekly manicure, but fortunately, how I was feeling there did not relate to how I would be feeling later. I didn't even get my free cosmo, guys. I got a cup of tea and prayed to the Dashing Diva gods that my stomach would be settled enough to commence drinking in an hour. B texted me while I was getting a manicure. She was shitfaced already. Three incoherent messages and an "I love you" and I didn't know what I would show up to when I got to Honey.

The Mexican and I parted ways and I moseyed over to Honey. It was about 7 when I got there. Chris and B were there. I had reserved us all a table because I'm besties with the Maitre'D. He finally remembered my name. I must've been slurring most times I spoke to him because he called me Kim, which if you throw an accent on a shortened version of my name, I can understand the mishearing.

When I arrived I got hugs galore and...well I started ordering drinks. I mean seriously, that's why I'm there. Bring on the booze! We got a little bit of food. Chris got Mozzarella sticks (I had one), and B got wings (I had one). B was still drinking but I think after about 4 more drinks she had drunk herself sober. I, however, was just getting started.

I was wearing a dress and sweating my ass off. I swear I was sitting like a classy lady with my legs slightly spread while sitting on the stool, HOPING a breeze would find it's way into my panties (the only thing I would allow in my panties that night, but I will get to that). So we're drinking and drinking. B tells me she's leaving at 10. I'm unhappy about this, but whatever. We go inside, give my bag to the manager (let's call her D for now, because it's so hard to keep these nicknames in order and I can't remember what I called her before.) She took my bag and put it in "coat check" because I guess some other girl was trying to check her shit and they wanted to charge her. They just gave me a number though, free of charge.

So here's where things start getting interesting. At 9pm we make our ways inside because we want to dance. We settle up the first check. I've seemingly had 10 cosmos by this point. I still have a long night ahead. Nyeg is on her way, so B will be relieved of her friending duties.

The multiple times I've gone to the restroom downstairs, the bathroom attendant has been flirting with me. They all do. He's shorter than me, and I think it's cute. (Keep this in mind).

Something else happens upstairs though. The owner of Honey, whom we met a few weeks ago, starts hitting on me. Mind you, I'm 5'9". He is...MAYBE 5'4"? Jesus, I don't even know. He's so little, and I say this about a million times, because I have no filter.

So the owner asks me if I want him to drive me home. Well of course I want a ride home! The train is shit at night, but I tell him I can take the train, but if he really wants to drive me home, sure! He tells me to let him know when I'm ready to go. I guess I gave him my number at that point because I ended up with a text saying "Hot Stuff". Smooth, I swear. Oh yeah, he's also probably in his mid to late 30s.

Speaking of which. I was talking to this group of guys that just apparently graduated from Apex (LMFAO...sorry). I was only talking to them because the tall one was cute and I wanted to introduce him to B. He ended up being a dick, but his friend, this Jamaican starts talking to me. Oh yeah, because I ask where the dick is from and he's laughing and says "Jamaica". OBVIOUSLY not (as I am well versed in Jamaican men and their language). Then I ask something else and his stupid fucking friend is trying to be funny too, so I turn to leave and their other friend who is ACTUALLY Jamaican, starts to talk to me. He says he wants to take me to Jamaica. Again, obviously I want to go to Jamaica because fuck, who doesn't? (Except most gay men, because they frown upon that there.)


We're chit chatting and I ask how old he is and he says something like 38. I ask him how old he thinks I am, and he says something like 32. I say "I'm offended" and walk off never to speak to him again. I am fickle when I'm drunk.

Nyeg shows up, and we're dancing and I go get drinks. Long islands and lemon drops (because that's the natural progression of things as well). B and Chris leave. Nyeg starts talking to this charming young man and I'm standing kind of near her and the side of the bar. There is a security guard there who is so big he scares me, but I start chatting him up about something. Turns out, he's the biggest sweetie and we exchange BBMs. Next to him, is the owner who wants to GTFO of there, but in the meantime, is smoking a hookah.

I don't smoke, guys. At all. I don't smoke anything. So this is what I tell the owner when he offers me hookah. His response "Really???? Why???" I read his expression. "You really want me to smoke the hookah?" He nods. And so I do. I smoke the fucking hookah like a pro. Somehow I figure out how to French inhale, and play it off like I'm the best at this ever, and so I teach him. That was where my personal level of morals was at that moment...no where to be found.

The owner buys us two shots and says that he wants to leave, are we ready? We're going down the block to a bar. Fine, no problem.

I start to make my rounds of saying goodbye. A hug here, a kiss on the cheek here, a "see you next week". I go down to see the bathroom attendant and he gives me a hug. But not like a normal hug. A, here let me grab your ass with both of my hands and squeeze while kissing your neck, hug. I'm laughing almost hysterically at this point.

The owner comes down the stairs just as we release our hug. I get my bag from D and we are out the door with a few more hugs and kisses.

We go down the block to this little bar because the owner likes to pay for his drinks sometimes. Whatever man, it's your money. So he buys Nyeg and I each a pineapple vodka. I end up drinking mine and most of hers. He has half of a beer. Nyeg and I dance to "Party in the USA" by Miley Cyrus, and the bouncer at the bar flashes a flashlight as us to highlight our smooth moves.

The owner is ready to go. I part ways with Nyeg because she's going somewhere else and says she'll be fine (turns out, I also left my camera with her). We go to the owner's car.

Now, I'm not an idiot. I know what he wants. He asked me earlier in the night if I had roommates and if I could have company. I said yes, and yes. I didn't mention that said roommates were my parents. What the fuck ever. So he's driving me to Brooklyn and not being the safest driver, which kind of freaks me out and gets me a little angry because he's the kind of dick driver I want to play bumper cars with in real life.

He also has his hand up my dress THE WHOLE RIDE. Yup, felt up in the car. We're close to my house and he starts to fucking complain about how far it is. "15 minutes is so far, blah blah blah blah" So now I'm getting annoyed, and little does he know, but I have no intention of doing anything with him. However, I give him a complementary feel. I massage him through his jeans. His size is not impressive and I am even LESS likely to do anything with him at this point.

I have him pull up to my corner, and he asks where to park. I tell him, he doesn't have to. He gets annoyed. I apologize, get out of the car and go to my house.

Mind you, I was texting with Steel Pans this whole time and had planned on him coming over. However, when I get in the house, it's a done deal. I pass out almost immediately upon undressing. I miss Steel Pans' and Nyeg's phone calls and the owner's text.

His text reads like this "I wish you just left me for a cab money. Wasted my time and your time" (I helped him grammatically a bit here, because the messages came in a little jumbled).

My response 7 hours later was "I'm sorry."

I might've just pissed where I drink. I just really hope that there are no issues on Thursday. He was not happy with me. I would've taken the cab money, GLADLY...but I didn't know that was an option.

Oh and here's a little snippet from Sunday night.

Went to B's family BBQ and really wanted to get some afterward. I seem to have a lot of potential hookups in the Bronx, so I hit up two of them. I decided on the really buff guy because I was in that kind of mood...if you know what I mean. It was about 11pm when I finally left B's after going back and forth with this kid for a half hour about when to come.

Turns out, he had been at the beach that day. What I didn't know though, is how fucking hammered he got there. We cut the foreplay relatively short, because who needed to waste time. I wish we had just stuck to that though, because the sex...terrible. He was positioned awfully and was being so lazy, so his massive pecs were pressing against my chest in a mostly painful way, but he's so heavy that I couldn't really readjust underneath him. Dead fucking weight. Also, since he's a bigger guy, I was expecting something a little more...aggressive.

He must believe slow and steady wins the race. 

FUCK THAT. I told him that he was going to need to get it together and do his job. He started making comments about having the spins and not feeling so well. 

I literally said "What the hell do you work out for if you can't do this? What is this muscle for?" I yelled at him, quietly, and then started to push him off of me. He stopped, said he couldn't do this and was going to be sick.

I told him to go throw up and drink some water. I put my pants and my shoes (that took forever to get off) back on and left.

He actually gave me a kiss on the cheek when I left.

Are you fucking serious? Most disappointing shit of my life. I swear I want to write some snarky shit on his facebook, but I don't think he'll get it.

Thus concluding my weekend.

You are currently up to date. I have a date with the Dominicatian tonight. I thought I was done with him, but he wants to take me to dinner and a movie, and who am I to complain. He's not bad company, he just wants something different from what I'm willing to give to him. I'm just going to be 'that bitch' for now.

Karma will bite me. Actually, I'm pretty sure that my sex Karma is back in balance after the shit I pulled on Thursday and what happened on Sunday.

Stumbling leads to bitter generosity

So do you guys remember when I talked about Mack here, here and here? I might've told you that although I was kind of interested in Mack, that I stepped aside when Chris expressed interest...well I did that again.

I might've just hand picked/delivered the man of my dreams, to VWR. FML?

We stumbled last night. I stumbled hard. Like, bad. Like, I haven't felt this shitty in the belly since three weeks ago. And I know you're probably thinking "Oh, if hangovers are typical occurrences, then this one shouldn't be so bad." Well, you would be HALF right. My head does not hurt, but I have felt like there was a miniature lawn gnome in my stomach, trying to punch its way out since I woke up (at 8am, by the way. Even though I was supposed to be at the gym by 7:30...no biggie.)

I actually was scheduled to have my annual work review today at 10am, and I had to call in sick (late) because I was behaving like a retarded child this morning and could NOT pull my act together.

Mind you, it's Thursday. I'm going to Honey tonight, and although right now, I can't even imagine what my body will do if I try to drink alcohol...I will find out.

Anyway, back to the recap of my life since I last posted.

On Tuesday, I decided that I wanted to be somewhat social and this Meetup called Random Events, was having a free stand up comedy show. I love stand up comedy, so naturally I decided this was a good time to meet new people and laugh my ass off.

The Mexican and I took the train down to the East Village and parted ways. I had about an hour and a half to kill so I got myself a nice Taro bubble tea and finished my book. (Matched by Ally Condie if you were wondering). I wasn't feeling so social any more though, and I was tempted just to go home and watch my overflowing DVR (which I will do tomorrow because I'm taking the day off to take care of my mama). However, it was about to rain and I was already there and had been in the West Village for almost 2 hours and so I decided to go in. Everyone was crazy nice, and I immediately got myself a hard cider (because it's awkward if you're not drinking at a bar when you first meet people). I was being a social butterfly, talk talk talking away about this that and the other thing. This girl tried to hijack my conversation with this Kazakhstan (I literally just said aloud "did I really just spell that right on the first try") guy. She had a very firm handshake and kind of scared me. I held my ground though, and told the story of my badassness (Polar Bear Plunge 2009). She was awed. Yeah, bitch, relax!

He was actually the MC

We saw 5 stand up comedians and they were awesome. There was this weird lady in the audience slightly behind me that I wanted to punch in the face once or thrice because she was talking loudly to her friend and one time she yelled out something like "You don't believe in Jesus" and everyone was really confused. The MC even said "Ok, so we're going to ignore that right there..." No one understood. Pretty sure she was a religious zealot, and they all deserve a swift punch in the nose. I kind of rushed out when it was over because it was late and I wanted to get home. I didn't even stay for the picture or to exchange info with any of the people I met. Oh well, there will be another time.

Side note: My headphone jack just got messed up in my computer and so I'm hearing this OBNOXIOUS noise while I'm trying to listen to music. It's making me cry inside.

Wednesday is where things for the week really start to get interesting.

When we got to the Stumble Inn, I decided that I was going to get buzzed at least, because I had so much fun the Friday night before. So I start drinking. I rapidly take down about two hard ciders. I decide not to eat the nachos the Mexican got. Probably not really the BEST choice, but it was made. So eventually the group grows to include VWR, and about 5 other people, including our friend Tiffany. We're hanging out at the bar and I'm drinking more than I should...then this guy walks in.

He's 6'7" (found out later) and has beautiful ebony skin. Tiffany tells me I will not go talk to him, and since he is standing alone and I'm buzzed, I do. I walk over to him, ask him if he's alone or waiting for someone (he is waiting for his friend). I invite him to join our group of people. We chat, and flirt. Lots of arm touching. He's an impressive Investment Banker with a slight British accent. His friend gets there who is just as gorgeous. I want to introduce the friend to VWR, so I call her over and introduce everyone. My neck is KILLING me from looking up at the Ebony Banker. He and VWR start talking about basketball and I start talking to his friend and find out he has a girlfriend (bummer!) but he wants to play beer pong (winner!) I tell him IMMEDIATELY, that we're all going to play. He's game. I go reserve "next" on both tables. These softball guys get mad at me when they figure this out, but whatever. VWR and Ebony Banker are still being chatty chatty. I'm in my own world and pretty buzzed. I'm making buddies with everyone, and I'm carrying my pitcher around.


Fast forward, we lose three games of beer pong. I drink most of the cups. I start drinking from cups that aren't really even mine to drink, but downing them like water. At around 1:30am, VWR and I decide to leave. I'm shithoused. I leave my gym bag at the bar so we have to come back as soon as we get to the train station. VWR asks my permission to talk to Ebony Banker (they exchanged numbers and wanted to know if that was ok with me). Obviously, I say ok because I'm too generous...ALWAYS.

I was bitter for at least two days about this, because everything about this guy was fucking awesome and I totally passed him off. Now I'm not as bitter because VWR and him REALLY hit it off and they are an INCREDIBLY cute couple and probably a better fit than he and I could be. She's so excited it's cute, and it sounds like he likes her too. So I'm going to let it go. I'm also going to stop giving people away!

I had A LOT of fun though. I'm awesome when I drink and every one agrees.

On my way home, I had to transfer to the Q at Union Square. It was running on the local track so for some stupid reason, at Dekalb Avenue, I got off the train because I momentarily convinced myself it was the N and not the Q. By the time my drunk ass realized my mistake, the train had closed its doors. I was stuck at Dekalb for another half hour. I cried because it was one of the dumbest things I have ever done and I just wanted to be home in my bed. It was AWFUL.

You'll have to tune in next time for my Thursday Honey story. I promise it's a good one with lots of being felt up, and very little moral code.

Sex, blood and shame...

So remember when I told you about Bar 13, well here's the story I mentioned.

Let's rewind to New Years 2010. My friend from Chicago, T (as Mo refers to her, and thus I will too), was visiting NYC. She wasn't here to visit me, per se, but being here when she's typically elsewhere, I was obviously going to make the effort to go see her.

It was a few days after the New Year, let's say the 3rd, when I got a text from T saying where she would be with her friend (who she was staying with). I thought, hey, good idea! Let's go.

Prepare yourself for a bit of a back story that might not be completely necessary, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

I called up B, who I wanted to meet T. She was on her way to go see this girl we can call Bambu. I've known Bambu since I was 13. We had never really been close, but after I moved back from Chicago we became friends - when other people were around. We actually all rekindled our friendship at our mutual friend's mother's funeral...great excuse to get shitfaced, right? So we did. Over the next few months, we went out some. We being me, B, Bambu and our other mutual friend 'Bino.

At that point in my life I was still mostly jobless (part timing as a medical assistant doesn't really pay the bills) and also, I wasn't big on spending money on alcohol (pre-gaming will always be my first love). Bambu is wealthy. She comes from a very wealthy family, and has no problem throwing money down (or so it seemed). I didn't really drink much at the bars, but whatever, I guess I was supposed to buy everyone drinks because they were offering to buy drinks? (A lesson I learned later). Anyway, one of those nights when we were drunk, Bambu called me out for not buying drinks. She actually made me feel bad, and like a user.

Having been used for lots of things my WHOLE LIFE, I took this to heart. I boohooed, right there in the bar. I told her I never wanted anyone to think of me like that, and then I sobbingly and begrudgingly, purchased a round. I thought we were past this. I thought we had discussed why it bothered me that she said what she said and I thought she knew I wasn't trying to use her for her family's money.

Welp, I was wrong. On January 3rd, B tells me she's headed to Bambu's apartment in midtown and that I should come. I message Bambu, see if this is OK and this is the jist of what she says..."If you're coming, bring whatever you want to drink. I don't have enough alcohol for everyone and I'm not paying for everyone to drink." By everyone, she means me, because it was only going to be me, B and her and she already told B that she didn't need to bring anything. Secondly, I was planning on bringing a bottle to share with everyone, because I have no problem with that. A bottle will cost me less than $40 and will get everyone shnocked, while a round of drinks at a club will cost more and do nothing for anyone.

I was offended to say the least. I responded with something like "I thought we went through this, I'm not trying to use you for your money or alcohol. I have my own, thank you very much. And you know what, I don't want to come to your apartment anyway." And I didn't. I couldn't forgive her for that bullshit. Something about how she acted time and time again offended me more than any other person has offended me in my life before. It got to my core, and it sat there.

I tried to make amends a few weeks later at this event that 'Bino had invited us all to, but she opened with "This problem we're having seems so petty and small compared to what they're going through in Haiti." ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? HAITI? That's what we're talking about now? I'm trying to make peace with you for the sake of our mutual friends, and you say that whatever we're having a problem over is unimportant because of Haiti. Wow. I almost shit a brick right then and there. I walked away from her, told B I tried, and never talked to her again. (By the way, the story from that night is pretty EPIC too. I'm pretty sure I was so beyond wasted I did things that I don't want to talk about with a boy whose name I'm having trouble remembering, in a neighborhood I would prefer never to go to again.)


Side note: this kind of blows because it made things a little weird for B, and it does bother me a little every time she says she's hanging out with Bambu, or that she's going to be in her wedding party, or that I haven't really hung out with 'Bino at all because they're besties. I would like to get over this and be civil. I even started telling B to give her my best wishes...etc, but I just don't know.

Back to the main story. So Bambu says this shit to me, B says she can't handle the drama and is just going home (I actually think she went to Bambu's anyway, but whatever...) So I was pissed at B, because at this point she hadn't met T, but was refusing to come out and I was pissed at Bambu, because she says stupid shit. So what did I do?

I drank. I drank a lot. I drank a lot VERY quickly.

I was fucking HAMMERED on the train. I talked to a guy about his shoelaces. We exchanged numbers. I lost the number. I was sad.

I stumbled to Bar 13, said whatever name T told me to, or someone came and got me at the door. I don't know what the hell happened, but I was in. I saw T. I was super excited. We danced. Her friend bought us drinks. I was introduced to his friend Beatles. He was beautiful, and educated. We danced more. We drank more. I was happy.

We decided to leave. Well...someone did, I don't know if I was really in the decision making mindset.

T's friend had driven. Beatles and I were in the backseat, T's friend was driving, T was in the passenger seat.

I want to say the next bit is blurry, but it's not. Beatles and I had been eating each others' faces for the past three hours, obviously there was chemistry. So in the backseat of the car, with two other people there, my dress went up, his khaki dress pants went down, and some circus act maneuvering began to take place.

He was not a small boy and I was so dehydrated what I don't know how it all worked, but it did.

T's friend drove purposely like an asshole with stopping short, making the door handle in my back all the more uncomfortable. T is a dirty freak and she definitely watched at some point, or at least was an ass and made it very clear that they were aware of what was going on in the back seat.

I rode on his lap at one point because it made more sense. Don't worry folks, the top of my dress was still on.

Wait, let me mention to you that I had been at my friend's wedding earlier in the day so I was wearing a silver dress, fit for a wedding, and probably not car sex. (I'm so classy).

So we get to T's friend's house. We get into the apartment and T said "OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT ALL OVER YOUR DRESS? AND WHAT'S ON YOUR PANTS?!"

Way to make an already awkward situation, more awkward.

It was not my time of the month. I was shwasted, and I was unsure of what was going on, but lo and behold, Beatles and I are covered in blood. Not just any blood, my blood. But I later found out, it was not period blood. It was blood that comes about when large things try to enter not so moisturized orifices.

I was embarrassed, and T is an asshole and was making it worse than it needed to be. I quietly took Beatles' pants, determined to work magic, and work magic I did.

Somehow I scrubbed all of the blood out of his khaki suit and out of my silver dress. Everything was hung up to dry in the bathroom. I had sobered up for a cool 15 minutes.

This did not last.

I don't know what made us decide to continue doing what we were doing, but we had a lot more sex that night. A LOT. We moved the whole couch 8 feet across the living room, into the wall. Did it this way and that. I had stopped bleeding mind you. Well, for the time being. We woke up the next morning having rearranged the living room.

Everyone awkwardly watched sportscenter together before Beatles walked me to the car - it was his car.

My heart SANK when we go to the car. I had lost my glove the night before right next to the car, so at least I had that back (unlike my dignity), but the backseat of his car looked like a crime scene. There was literally blood everywhere.

His suit was still damp and he was freezing. He had to cover the backseat of his car with newspaper so he could take it to the shop to be cleaned and so people wouldn't think he had committed murder.

He drove me to the train station, the last stop on the 2 train. It was an almost silent ride. I offered him money for the cleaning. He didn't accept.

That was the last time I saw Beatles. I got to think about him on the shameful 2 hour, midday Sunday subway ride back to my house.

Sex, blood and shame...