See you at 8...

I spoke to Husky last night.  I first called him when I thought he would be home but in fact he was running late and was only on the ferry.  So, he said he'd call me when he got in his car.  We eventually spoke later on last night and I danced my way through some sort of explanation about why I went MIA this weekend...I'd tell you what it was but I honestly don't remember what the fuck I said.  I can confidently say there was an apology, some bullshit and a desperate attempt to change the subject.  


Well long story short we are going to go out for ices tonight...nice and casual and delicious...plus it doesn't require me to sit there and have a meaningful conversation while simultaneously trying to navigate my way around an entrée, seem engaged and interested and maintain eye contact.  Dinner first dates are just too complicated...now ices on the other hand is a great first date.  I actually suggested to Patches recently that she does that for a first date...and she did...and they went out a second time...see, I'm a genius :)  


Anyway, 8pm tonight Husky is scheduled to pick me up.  This means I'll miss zumba =(  but I couldn't possibly say no again...so I'll go for a run and get excited for some chocolate cupcake flavored ice...now excuse me while I wipe the drool off my keyboard.

Can We Reschedule...???

Well, first I would like to welcome all my new readers!!  I’m thrilled to have you hear for the ride & hope you know what you’ve got yourselves into ;-)  Buckle your seatbelts because now that summer is coming to an end I intend for things to really pick up on the dating front…after all I only have 4 months to seek out my 2011 NYE kiss…kidding…maybe…(c’mon, don’t judge me, NYE is a big deal and while I don’t mind sucking face with a bottle of champagne I prefer a man)

I just had one of those epic weekends you want to repeat over and over again but you know if you do you’ll probably die.  I stayed up until 5am two nights in a row, danced, drank and cancelled a date.  I just realized that my last post was also about a cancelled date so now I’m giving the impression this is some sort of habit.  But it’s really not, I promise I’m not usually like this!  Allow me to elaborate…

I spoke with Husky (he has eyes like the dogs) on Thursday night.  During the conversation he asked me about my weekend plans so I mention that I have no idea what I’m going to do with my Friday night yet and Saturday I had a party in Hoboken with my college friends since one of our friends was visiting from Texas.  Mistake number 1 which I almost never make…I admitted I was free Friday night and had absolutely no prospective plans.  Well Husky went in for the kill and asked if he could take me to dinner Friday night.  Fuck! X 1000!!!  Naturally my first reaction is to want to say no and propose another night, however, I already said I was free so what kind of excuse could I possibly come up with that would fly with him?  Yeah, you got it, there isn’t anything.  So, through gritted teeth as I bang my head on the wall I say Sure! as enthusiastically as I could.  As you know I have a weird “thing” about first dates on the weekend so this was kind of killing me.  Rules are meant to be broken…right?

WRONG!!!  So, very, very fucking wrong!!!  this is a perfect example of why you should never second guess yourself…during the day on Friday I find out that my friend will no longer be around on Saturday and we are going out Friday night instead.  See, had I not scheduled this date there would be no question that I would be there and my lack of plans would be taken care of.  Everyone wins.  Not this time.  Now, I’m forced to call this guy up and ask him to reschedule…now I’m the asshole.  Now can you all see why weekends are sacred and need to be off limits to first dates??  A night out with your best friends from college…guaranteed shit show vs. a night with a guy you’ve never met eating Thai in Brooklyn…yeah, I just bored myself with typing that.

I call Husky once the plans were confirmed with my friends, I didn’t want to call until I knew the whole story, and it was only 3hrs before we were supposed to go out.  Yeah I know, how fucked up am I?  Aside from one “you know you could have called me earlier” comment, which I can’t blame him for, Husky took it pretty well.  I think in an attempt to not feel rejected he quickly said we should hang out Saturday night instead being that my plans were switched to Friday.  So sorry husky, not quite the way it works.  But regardless, I told him we would talk the next day and figure it out aka I quickly got to Hoboken partied my ass off then made plans to do it again

The Juicy Details – I really would like to go out with Husky, he seems like a nice guy.  It was just awful timing on his part to try and make plans this weekend.  I can’t be held accountable for the invitations I receive…I can be for accepting them…but can you blame me?  Hell no!!  So Husky tried to contact me on Saturday and I turned into a total coward!!  It was pathetic.  But really....eager much??  Perhaps I should be flattered but I wasn't...I was actually annoyed that this guy didn't have his own plans or enough pride to at least hide the fact he was free all weekend.  I ignored his call and the guilt ate away at me, until I had my first beer of the day then it wasn’t so bad.  But really, how could I possibly expect to hang out with him if I wont even pick up the phone.  I just really didn’t want to have to explain myself and my Saturday night plans.  Isnt that the beauty of being single?  Go where you want, when you want, with who you want and not have to explain yourself to anyone?!  Yep, that’s what I thought.  I’m going to try and give Husky a call after work today and see if he hates me too much to get together for real.  Why am I acting like such a guy?!  Haha…oops.

Sniff...Sniff...Cough...Cough

Never did I think I'd be one of those assholes who uses the "I dont feel well" excuse to postpone a date.  Its been done to me and I dont like it.  Frankly, I'm a bit of a cynical person who trusts little of what people (men who want to date me) say (thank you to my ex for that) and so when I hear things like 'I'm so sorry, I feel like crap can we please reschedule' I try and give them the benefit of the doubt that they are being honest while simultaneously deleting their number...I know, bitch.  

There is a guy, Hollywood, who I've emailed with a couple of times.  Literally, thats as far as its gone.  I'm sorry but being from LA don't you know how to schmooze and chat up women because I'll tell you now this email tactic is seriously fucking lame.  Do you honestly think that I’m going to get excited about a date with someone I haven’t even had a real conversation with?  Its not even like the emails were all that riveting.  If your going to insist on the written word, at least entertain me!

You may wonder why I’d go on a date with someone who I’m bitching about the way I am and I’ll tell you, its because he’s cute and his profile intrigued me.  Perhaps he sucks at writing emails, I know I do.  So, instead of giving him a big F-you…I will go on this date and I will hopefully like it.

Hollywood had emailed me in the beginning of the week about getting drinks tonight…my mind has been like scrambled eggs all week that I completely forgot to respond until yesterday.  When I did I was sure to tell him to CALL me and we could discuss plans.  Well, he listened but when he called my phone didn’t even ring and did one of those annoying straight to voicemail tricks so lucky for him he was able to leave a quick voicemail (don’t you secretly love that by the way, when your calling someone for the first time and the phone goes to voicemail and the responsibility of initiating a potentially awkward conversation now falls in someone elses lap??), unlucky for me the Empress of Lazy this week I’m left with the task of calling back.  Naturally I got caught up in a billion things…including dragging myself off the couch to grab a beer with an old friend who also happens to be a mutual friend of my ex…this now feels like a colossal mistake because even though I said from the beginning that conversations about the ex were off the table the topic still managed to come up anyway.  I don’t know that I trust him not to go back and tell the ex what was said, you know with the whole dicks before chics thing (he never repeats anything my ex says but then again I dont ask...I dont know he shows me the same respect), but at least I know better than to say anything I wouldn't "mind" being repeated. 

I digress…suddenly I get home, feel like shit because I forced myself to go out and realize its actually 11:30 and way too late to call back.  I’m such an asshole!  The truth is, since last week I haven’t felt all that hot.  My asshole coworker decided to come to work sick as a dog and cough all over everything and therefore get almost everyone else sick.  Thanks fucker.  For some reason this cold has decided to take up some major real estate in my body.  It won’t fucking leave!  I’m not one to pump myself full of meds or go to the doctor and complain about my symptoms but dear god, I’m about ready to crawl in there admit that I was wrong for not coming sooner and beg and plead they give me whatever magic pill could make this better.  This. Is. Hell.

This morning, feeling completely ashamed of myself I wrote an email back to Hollywood and explained that my cold has officially kicked my ass and while I normally power through these things like a champ I am waving my white flag and surrendering.  The boogers have won.  Bastards.  I hate being told I HAVE to do something, I’m a bit of a rebel in that sense, and this virus has been trying for a week and a half to tell me in no uncertain terms that I have to sleep.  Fine, you win.  I have requested that we reschedule the date so that I can sleep…but just know I’m not going to like it one bit…ok who are we kidding, I’m going to love being snuggled in bed but I will be thinking about the potential make outs I’m missing out on.  Again, fuck you cold!

The Juicy Details – Well, the only really juicy thing about this tale is the impressive amount of snot my body is capable of creating, where does all this shit come from!?  I’m a little person I don’t get it.  I know that’s completely disgusting but hey, it’s the truth.  Anyway, Hollywood wrote back and wished me well and said its no problem to reschedule for next week.  So, I guess the ball is in my court to pick a day…but I’ll do that tomorrow being that it feels like little oompa loompas are pushing on the inside of my fucking skull trying to make my head explode.  Stay tuned. 

A Boat...A Beer...A Boy

Wow, I haven’t posted in a week…what the fuck is wrong with me?  Well, lets be honest, that’s a stupid question…I’m a lazy bastard.  I’ll admit I do a lot of thinking, a lot of mental noting, a lot of bullshitting to people about my blog but do I ever sit down, discipline myself for at least 5 fucking minutes and pump out a few entries…hell to the no.  Apparently, I’d much rather google decorating ideas or read dating message boards and respond to other peoples issues or go on facebook half a dozen times within the hour…and with every click of the shitty mouse my job gave me I keep thinking why can’t I just write that stupid post I’ve been thinking about for the past 4 days (and yes, I’m doing all of this from the comfort constraints of my desk, somehow people here think I’m super productive)

The newest adventure involves not a date but a first encounter.  Last Friday I was going out for a friends birthday to this awesome bar on a boat in the city.  Once again the getting out of work at 3:30 devil reared its ugly head because I was slated to arrive to the bar before everyone else.  This actually turned out to be a major score in the parking department being that I managed to get a spot on the west side highway right in front of the bar…my aggravation faded for about 15min as I basked in the glory of my achievement.  Then as my car began heating up from the sun beating in and I felt myself begin to cook I started to lose my patience.  I decided the best thing to do would be to get out and go stand by the water, get some fresh air and enjoy the views (both of the water and the gorgeous men walking onto the boat).

I’d like to note at this time that as of recently (aka a couple of weeks ago) I feel like I’ve given up on guys.  Given up in the sense that I just don’t give a shit.  You want to talk to me?  Sure.  You want my number?  Sure.  You want to kiss me?  Sure, only if your hot.  Through all of this however, I have zero expectations…meaning I don’t expect phone calls, texts, dates, facebook friend invites…nada, zilch, nothing.  It takes a lot of stress out of things and helps me to not to get disappointed…I mean when you expect nothing, anything you do get is like a pleasant surprise. 

So I was sitting there praying to god I wouldn’t pee myself (I had to go from the minute I left work and it was now about 5:30 so two hours of the pee-pee dance was a little insane) and trying to distract myself with a little brick breaker on my BB when I suddenly feel someone standing over me.  I look up and this seriously hot guy, Casanova, is standing over me with this great big smile.  He thrusts out his hand to introduce himself and I hear his buddies cheering in the background.

After he’s done making me blush by calling me “so beautiful” about a dozen times, kissing my hand and just all around being perfectly adorable he asked if I’d be going to the Frying Pan as well and said I should find him inside so he could by me a drink.  ::sigh::  If only I believed the words coming out of his beautiful Italian lips.  Either way, I just got a HUGE confidence booster and forgot about how badly I had to pee and how fucking long it was taking my girls to get there. 

Patches finally arrived and while I was sorry for bugging the shit out of her knowing she was stuck in a cab in traffic I was soo excited to get inside to the bathroom and also tell her about Casanova…turns out I did this simultaneously because I couldn’t wait for either one.  A bucket of beer later Patches and I decide to ditch the group and check out the views (the sunset and the cuties).  All was wonderful.  Then on our way to the bar to get ourselves a pitcher of sangria we literally bump into Casanova.  He naturally realizes who I am and to my luck so do his friends “oh my god it’s the girl from the bench!”  We all stand there laughing and chatting as Casanova makes a total spectacle of himself, which I admit I’m totally eating up.  He’s dancing (and there is no music playing anywhere), he’s telling me the sweetest things and complements just every bone in my body and is nearly drooling over my bangs.  His poor friends heard “how cute is she?” so many times I was surprised none of them were vomiting overboard. 

The two events which happened next were surprising, amazing (?), hilarious and a little umm wacky but I was in my “I don’t give a fucking fuck” mode so I was rolling with it.  Casanova grabs my face in his hands and before I know it plants a kiss right on my lips after which I hear his buddy scream “no way! Was there tongue?!”  no, sorry to disappoint no tongue but wow did that just happen?  Before I could say that out loud he was going in for another and in a desperate attempt not to look like some slut that just kisses random guys at a bar I slowly turn my head to the side and give Cas some cheek.  He wasn’t too fond of this and quickly gave me a lecture on his amazing lips.  Oh Cas… 

After a little more of the kissing game he goes back to telling me “Your so beautiful, its all your mothers fault”  and you may think after hearing this for a while it would get old…but honestly, it doesn’t.  Even thinking about it now makes me laugh.  Fact is he could have been completely full of shit but it really didn’t matter because I was getting a kick out of hearing it just as much as he was by saying it.  I had been holding my phone in my hand this whole time because a good friend of mine I haven’t seen in a long time was coming to meet us and I didn’t want to miss his call so I could tell him where we are standing.  Apparently Cas took this as an invitation to grab my phone and actually CALL my MOM!!!  Why?? Well, to tell her how wonderful I am and that its all her fault I’m so beautiful.  I shit you not.  He handed me the phone after he was done because she wanted to talk to me.  Yes, of course she does because now she thinks her daughter has been abducted by some crazy she always warned me about.

Finally its time to part from Casanova and his buddies because my friend got there and frankly, I didn’t want to just hang around like some groupie who doesn’t have anything better to do.  Bye Cas, it was so much fun.

The Juicy Details:  Aside from all the stolen kisses, which there were plenty of, Casanova’s great lips (I will attest to the fact that he was 100% telling the truth about those) he seems like a real quality guy.  Totally my type across the board which shocked me and just seriously loveable.  He has a fantastic personality.  Before he let me get away he insisted I give him my number so he could take me out for a really nice dinner…oh, so sweet.  I give him a few rolls of my eyes because I don’t believe a word of this but I give him my number anyway and as a joke (which he took literally) I told him to save my number in his phone as “The love of my life”.  Well, I can tell you that I was so surprised to get a text from him on Monday saying “Heyy, its Casanova from Frying Pan, just wanted to say hi”  To which I eventually replied “Hi back :)” “How was your weekend?”  A few days later and nothing in return yet.  So 1) I figured that would be the case so no real surprise there and 2) I’m really annoyed because who actually texts just to say Hi?!?!  I never thought people really did that.  You are a weird one Cas.  I will keep you posted as to whether or not he says anything more then hi but lets not count on it.  I would like to thank him for an extremely memorable evening either way!

Lights....Camera....Astoria!

From time to time I take notice of these little unintentional trends in my dating life.  I stress unintentional because they are purely coincidences that I don’t typically realize until after the fact and are not things I try to seek out.  In fact, I feel the only purpose these trends tend to serve is to make me feel I need more variety when it comes to the men I’m dating.  Two examples…I have dated an overwhelming number of men whose first name starts with the same letter…this may seem silly but when that letter is also the start of  the first name of your ex who you’re not too fond of it gets aggravating…I feel like its haunting me and I don’t like it…stop it you stupid letter, I’m so done with you!  Another is careers…I seem to keep coming across these men who work in similar career paths…now before you start shaking your head at me thinking I’m being ridiculous or nit-picky understand I’m not talking about common careers like teachers, accountants or cops…I’m talking about ooh I don’t know…producers for instance.  Yes, I said producers, and after my date on Thursday I have now gone out with 3…THREE…men with aspirations to “make-it” in the world of entertainment.  The first worked in movies, the second for HBO and the third commercials.  I know for some of you hearing this will be like finding out there is not Santa Claus (my apologies for letting that slip to those who didn’t already know) but the reality is the film/television industry as far as I’ve seen is not all the glitz and glam we are lead to believe it is.  Sure its cool and I’m sure its really thrilling at times but so is walking across a steel beam several hundred feet in the air…so, until one of these men offers me a part in something they are working on I remain unimpressed.

Allow me to introduce produce number 3...Splint.  I know that so far I’ve given all the men more or less actual names but in this case, Splint works well.  Splint is a 100% Greek guy raised in CT, living in Astoria (shocker!) and I’m sorry to say that yes, his parents own a restaurant but it’s a pizza place not a diner…I know I was disappointed too, looks like there are no gyros and French fries with an extra side of tzatziki(white sauce) in my future, so sad.  Splint actually started to annoy me even before our first date with the constant texting.  Don’t get me wrong, I am all for modern technology and I’m well aware of the turns dating has taken over the past few years but there is still something to be said for old school conversation.  I refuse to accept a date over a text message…and I was starting to get the impression Splint may have thought he could get away with that.  Why must I teach these boys everything??  Lucky enough he got the hint, picked up the phone and called me.  Bravo, Splint, Bravo.  We had a nice chat and made plans to meet up in Brooklyn the next day since it was a good middle ground.  He said he was off from work so he could get there anytime I wanted…it all seemed almost too easy.

And naturally it was.  Just as I’m about to leave work I get a txt saying that he would need to meet up an hour later then we planned if we still meet up in Brooklyn.  Here is that devil of my early departure from work rearing its ugly head again.  I had already killed more time then I could possibly bare at work and was at the point that Splint either had to hurry the fuck up and get to Brooklyn, make new plans or I was ready to cancel.  Ultimately it was decided that I would go to Astoria...typically I don’t love going to the guy on a first date, its really nice for a guy to come to you…but whatever it wasn’t that far and I’ve always wanted to check out the bars in Astoria. 

I arrive in Astoria and after circling the blocks by his apartment I finally find a spot with a meter…not cool…but then discover its broken…so cool!  Things are looking up.  As I walk down the block towards his place he’s standing outside and I notice something funny…his arm is all bandaged up…and if its not already painfully obvious that is why we call him Splint.  He tells me a quick story about soccer (a Greek playing soccer…another shocker lol) and hurting his arm, I wasn’t really paying attention because I was too busy staring at the small army of chest hairs poking out of the collar of his shirt.  What TMI??  Yes, well those were my thoughts exactly.  I know, Greeks are hairy…I honestly wish I could stop with all the stereotyping but hey they have stereotypes for a reason right? And besides, I’m half Greek so I’m allowed…anyway, this was a little much for me being that I hate excessive hair.  Facial hair, chest hair, back hair…no. thank. you.  I like a guy nice and smooth.  I tried to get past this as I nearly inhaled my first beer…partly because I was so hot and it was cooling me off and partly because I was soo hungry and being we hadn’t said anything about dinner I was doing the next best thing and filling up on carb filled beer…college taught me well.

A couple of beers later and my stomach has stopped yelling at me to feed it and Splint decided it was time to leave our first location because it “kinda sucks”.  Why the fuck would you take me to a place that you would describe as sucks with any word besides “doesn’t” in front of it.  Idiot.  Then he redeems himself and makes the best suggestion of all…that we head over to the Beer Garden.  I was trying my best to play it cool but secretly I was doing flips inside…I have heard about this Beer Garden from as long as I could really understand what one was and I have always wanted to go.  In fact I hear a lot of great things about the nightlife in Astoria but I seem to always fail when trying to get my friends to take a trip out there with me.  Maybe if I can experience some of this awesomeness my eyewitness report will be enough to convince them.

As we walk to the garden I notice that the rumors about Astoria being a Greek filled place are all true…restaurants, lawyers, clubs, etc almost every store front has a Greek name, flag, smell, etc associated with…and I’m not going to lie I was loving it.  We passed a little café and Splint promised he was going to buy my Mom pastries there on the way back…oh sure I said completely rolling my eyes and laughing thinking he actually believes I bought that.

Well the beer garden was fun…after we sampled about 5 different beers (and I hated all of them) we finally found something we both liked and he got a pitcher for us.  I’m not sure how much he was expecting me to drink but there was no way I was having half that pitcher, I had to drive home and sleeping over because I drank too much was not an option.  We are finally ready to leave and as we are walking back Splint pulls me into the café we passed earlier and begins ordering some delicious desserts (in Greek, which I was actually able to follow) for me to take home to my mom.  I wasn’t sure if I was impressed with his kindness or a little put off being that we just met…I settled with somewhere in between.  He stood there and made me promise that I wouldn’t eat them on the way home before my mom got to try them…ok, listen Splint I’m not some sort of fat-ass who can’t contain herself to the point where I’m going to tear into a ribbon wrapped box of pastries and start chowing down with my bare hands while driving.  In other words, they will make it home in one piece.

The Juicy Details – This should probably be called the hilarious details this time but lets just get on with it…Splint walks me to my car to say good night…this is always the part that gets me most giddy because I always look forward to seeing how a guy approaches this if we haven’t kissed yet during the night.  Watching him weave and bob his way around my face in the midst of deciding “do I go in for the kiss” is just amazing.  Splint was a classic!!!  I can’t tell you how many times he kissed my cheek, the other cheek, my forehead, gave me a hug and said good night.  Eventually I felt bad for the guy and offered to drive him (half a block lol) down to his apartment in hopes of giving him another opportunity to sneak in for the kiss…ultimately it was a big fail…it was more of the weaving and bobbing and I almost felt bad enough seeing him struggle to just grab his face and make it happen just to put him out of his misery…but…I didn’t :)  I’m truly evil sometimes.  Besides always leave them wanting more right?  

And there is certainly some truth to that because Splint definitely wants to go out again…he’s only texted me about it half a dozen times and I swear if he sends me one more text to ask me what I think about that I may lose it.  Will there be a sequel...?  Guess we'll have to wait and see...but you know what they say...sequels are never as good as the original...and when the original was only ok you dont have too much material to work with.  Stay tuned....