The Lost Plum…

I had taken a nice solitude vacation at the end of my first year of grad school. Actually I spent the whole time in the resort room in Mexico writing my paper that was due the day I got back, and since I burnt crisper then a bucket of chicken on the first day, the room is where I stayed.

My favorite moments of this trip besides some nice sun therapy and the spa would have to be my late night phone calls with Mr. Popular while sitting on the balcony.

Mr. Popular and I had been chatting/texting/IMing for months, and had had a few in person adventures!

I got home to NYC red and ready to hand in my paper. I also was thinking somewhat dreamy thoughts of Mr. Popular. This was one of the only time I can remember of where I actually really contemplated us as a “couple” and in a real “relationship”.

Problem being I didn’t think he felt the same way at all. I was pretty convinced we had moved into the ever wonderful “friendship” zone. He treated me like a ‘girlfriend’ but just never touched me like one….or at least how I assumed all guys touch their girlfriends.

I was getting ready to go to bed early, as I get tired from plane rides, and I get a phone call.

Mr. Popular is in my hood and right up the street. He wants to come over and see me. Holy shit balls!

We talked laughed and joked around for hours into the night. Just lying on my bed talking. Only times he got off the bed was to take a smoke break. His smoke breaks consited of him at my window, stradling my ratiator so he was half out the window and half inside the bedroom.

As the hours flew by I became more and more convinced we dove deeper into the “friend zone” and pretty soon the sun was close to coming up.

SIDEBAR: I was pretty cool with friend zone, but starting to question his sexuality at this point. What guy lies in bed for hours with a girl and doesn’t try anything?

We were laying talking laughing and then all of a sudden he leans in and kissed me.

There it was! Wow!

“Did you just kiss me?”

He kissed me again!

And then he stopped stared in my eyes and jumped up!

“I have to go!”

He bolted, ran, left quicker then Kiefer Sutherland throws back a shot of whiskey.

And I went to bed with the sun coming up feeling rejected: Sad, lonely, and rejected.

Until I awoke to find I had company in bed with me.

There were feathers and bird poo all over as pigeons had flown in and taken up residence in my room through his open “smoke break” window.

Maybe first kiss birds really do appear. And maybe sometimes in the form of gross dirty New York City pigeons!

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Man: I’ve never seen you at the dog park before.

Me: Oh we’ve been before I just babysit so I only get to come with ‘Picasso’ every month or so.

Man: Well he’s a lucky little guy.

Me: ….thanks (awkward smile)

(About 10 minutes later man and his massive horse of a dog are leaving the dog park)

Man: I’m ‘man’ by the way. (Hands card) you should call me if you ever feel like babysitting my little man.

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A few months back there was a small gathering at my old apartment, just before the move. I wasn’t really apart of it (that’s a whole other story) so I’m in my room and I hear:

“We need a man here to open this jar”

“Or at least a real big butch lesbian”

(Could be funny, but I thought both statements were just sad, but I’m only going to respond to the first comment)

“… a man here to open this jar” Really? Now I know you’re on your third bottle of wine at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon, but that is never an excuse.

Now, this is where everyone rolls their eyes and cringes for the feminist rant that is about to come. Except, it’s not coming.

That’s right. I could careless about a stupid stance on not needing a man for anything, pro woman, fem-nazi shit. I hate that bullshit. I have a vagina and it makes me no better then you, in fact I could careless, sometimes I wish it wasn’t even there. Keep the bra burning fem-nazi pro woman loving bitches away from me.

The real issue here is the fact that men (and in this case I fear the men in these ladies lives) are being degraded and lowered to muscle, to having nothing to contribute but a primal expectation.

Now not saying a man’s primal instincts aren’t a good thing!

Now I will admit most guys are very good at opening jars, but I’m pretty good at it too!

It’s not a skill I list on my resume, shit I hope no one lists it on theirs.

I don’t know what the point of this post is. I guess I just want to say I like boys in my life (regardless of their ‘status’ or what have you) I like them not what they can DO for me. I mean doing for and just doing are different right?

If a man can’t open a jar, or reach something up high he is still a man. And that is a wonderful thing!

FACT: My all time favorite thing I saw on a resume that once crossed my desk: “I Sparkle!!”

SIDEBAR: I DO need a man to come show me how to program work my heat thermostat wall thinger. But that is using him for the brain!

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I got an email late last night from one of my readers, or maybe a passer by, who knows. And I thought I needed to address this email in the open, to everyone. Not for any specific reason, just cause I feel like it. My answer is something I tell people often when I discuss this blog and my dating/sex/relationship status and practices. However, I realized that I don’t know most of you so I should let you know as well.

FACT: Just because you email me doesn’t mean I will respond to it out in the open. Although, it maybe time for one of these posts again.

Her email included the following:

“You don’t date and write about it like other sex and dating blog people. Are you dating someone and just not talking about it? Are you just not interested in dating? What is up with you in terms of your dating life? You just write so different then the other women dating bloggers I read in the city…”

Well….. first and foremost I want to say:

Thank you!

I read most of the other “dating” blogs here in the city, and even outside of the city. I even socialize with a few other writers. I like most everyone out there but I am happy that you find me different, so thank you. I never went in to blogging (this blog or any other) wanting to emulate anyone, or be like someone else.

SIDEBAR: I’ll be honest there are a very small handful of bloggers I don’t like. I don’t like what they write, how they write, how they interact with others, what their blog design looks like, and some I don’t like as people (and like almost everyone!). And frankly I’m sure lots don’t like me (And I could care less)!

I am glad you find me different even if it’s hinted as not a good thing.

I never really categories myself as a “dating/relationship/sex” blogger, although I guess that is where I fit.

I like to tell people “I write about me. I just happen to meets lots of boys….so I guess I write about boys”

I am far from an expert at dating or relationships. And would never claim to be. I have no advanced degrees in psychology or anything in the like. (although, I do have a very large education resume) Many may claim age and experience give them their “cred” but I simple disagree. So I don’t give advice and should probably add a “don’t try this at home” section to my legal statement at the bottom of this page.

Here is the main thing and my main point: I don’t date to write.

Frankly some people out there do. I find it ridiculous. What’s the fun in that?! It takes something fun and interesting: dating and love and sex and all that jazz, and makes it work. Not my goal, not my way, not my vibe.

I’m not going to bore you about every little detail of every date I go on, right down to where we went and what we ate. Who cares?!

I am not going to bore you with tales of endlessly spending night inside weeding through online profiles in hopes to make a connection just so I can write about it. And even if I did tell you of my fishing expeditions it would end up more like this post.

I’m not going to write about every cute and interesting boy I meet. Hell I’d be writing forever!

I mean maybe me never talking about my at the moment/in the moment dating and sex life makes me look desperate or pathetic in some way. Or just seem like a big loser, but I tend to think of it the other way.

I tell you stories I want to, I like to laugh at my self, and hopefully I make you all laugh too. And maybe sometimes I’ll throw alittle serious heartache story in the mix.

I am just me. Lost. And if you choose to not Find me that’s cool.

Also, I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. I do not write about boys I am currently involved with or boys who feelings I care about, even if we are not dating. Some stuff is not for discussions, and not anyone else business….not because I’m ashamed of anything but because I care about others feelings. (and then sometimes I just ignore peoples feelings….my bad) Also, sometimes (although not very often) my life can be pretty plain and normal….so there is that!

But then again I could be looking at this whole love, sex, relationship, dating, and blogging thing all-wrong.

But then again….I never have an issue finding boys.

And sometimes, just sometimes I even find my heart a flutter.

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Guy: My grandfather fought in the war.

Me: oh really?

Guy: Pretty cool huh!? How many people can say that?

Me: Well I’d say about 90percent of the bar could say that, maybe even more.

Guy: Well only cause the bar is pretty much full of Caucasians.

Me: Caucasians? What does that mean?

Guy: White people.

Me: Yes. I know what Caucasian means.

Guy: (laughs) Well white people are the only ones who stand up for this country!

Me: I’m sorry, are you hitting on me right now?

Guy: Of course. (Laughs) Isn’t it working?

Me: Well considering I’m not white you may want to reconsider! (Walks away)

FACT: I’m probably the whitest kid you could ever meet!

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