Various Notes

I haven't had any dates to speak of lately. I have, however developed a strange relationship with a guy that I have hung out with a few times. He and I get along very well and he totally cracks me up. He also can keep up with my drinking, which we both have discussed could be scary. Again, here is a guy shorter than me, but he is really cute so I don't mind. But the strange nature of our relationship is that he and I hang out like were on a date or something along those lines, get drunk, then I go back to his place and we get undressed, curl up next to each other and sleep. We don't make out, we haven't had sex...we just sleep in each other's arms, wake up, go eat and go do our thing. The we see each other again in a bit and do the same thing again. I don't know, call me crazy, but I think I can chill with this kind of thing if he can. Because truth be told, I have just about given up on dating in this fucking city, but I put the effort into creating this blog so I have to at least do something for material...

There's this older gay man that sits at my bar who is really cool. He usually comes in on my Sunday nights when I could really use another body at the bar, but yet it is also mellow enough so that he and I get to talk and BS for a while. So anyway, tonight he told me that he threw caution to the wind and took a girl home a few weeks ago and after twenty five years, went down on a woman. It was hilarious the way he gestured what he did, putting his hands in front of his mouth, index fingers touching, then pushed outward and apart, sticking his tongue out between his hands!! He then said it hadn't changed in twenty five years. I told him that we women possess delicate machinery and you have to be highly trained and join the union in order to be a certified mechanic. Although he is totally gay, I know that it didn't totally put him off. I mean, come on!! Women and our parts are totally awesome. Even gay men dabble for fun once in a while!!

There are many things I do when I drink, but drunk texting is not one of them. In fact, my phone and people not immediately in front of me don't even cross my mind. I know a lot of people that get themselves into plenty of trouble texting and calling exes or current cushes or just plain people they have no business calling. There's also the booty call. Late night drunk hook ups with people who are designated as such. I have never had the proverbial "black book" nor have I ever really participated in the booty call. (I have had one or two guys that we start out the night hanging out because we know we're going to end up in bed later on. Does that count?) However, I heard a hilarious story about the drunk text that is supposed to be a message, but looks like this:

62h&2 lpI'm 77#

Umm, yeah. Perhaps one reason why I just leave the phone alone.

Memories...Of the Smiles We Left Behind....

I lay in bed the other day nursing a hangover I got from drinking the night before with a friend of mine who was in town for two nights. I was watching movies, surfing the web and enjoying my day off, however bad the dehydration got. Then my phone rang.

"Lani, this is Nicholas."

Crickets chirping.

" We met last night in the pizza shop."

"Uh-huh..." I said.

"You don't remember me."

"No, that's not true. I vaguely remember meeting you in the pizza shop. I just don't remember what you look like."

Truth was, I didn't remember him at all. I didn't remember meeting him and I sure as hell didn't recall giving him my phone number. He even told me that he sent me a text shortly after we parted--didn't remember getting that either!! So I chatted with him a bit to try to recall anything about him. We hung up and I immediately called my friend.

"Girl, do you remember me meeting some guy last night?!?!"

"Yeah," she said, "at the pizza shop. Don't you remember? When we were walking in, you smiled at him and he followed us in. He started talking to you. He was wearing a hat and you took it off and started playing with his hair."

Oh god.

"Then we all walked out," she said, "and you started making out with him."

"WHAT?!?!"

"Yeah, you were practically manhandling him. I had to pull you away from him."

Sweet Jesus. There I was a few minutes before all warm and wrapped up in my bed watching movies and web surfing, and had this guy not called me, I never would have known he existed, never would have known what the hell I had done the night before!!

So of course now I'm wondering what the hell is wrong with him in trying to call a girl who was obviously drunk and try to set up a date with her the next day, even after it was obvious that she didn't remember him. Even crazier is that said drunk girl agreed to go out with him later that night.

My instincts were right. He was weird and I have no intention of hanging out with him again. Now I have to use my all time useful parting tool: ignore his calls until he gets the hint and stops calling. He does know where I work, but if he comes around, I guess I have to do the adult thing and tell him that I don't want to see him. However, I blame this whole mess on one thing....

JAGER.

I Get Out Too Much

Just as the sun rises and sets, so I had another date last night. It was nice--I went out with a guy that I had already hung out with before, but we hadn't had a formal dinner date until last night. We ate at a cool cuban joint out near Soho, then decided to go into familiar territory for drinks. As I have stated before, when I go out with a guy, I like to go around to places where I know people so that they can see who I'm with, just in case anything should happen to me. So anyway, we head over to a restaurant where I used to work because I promised the bartender, my friend, that I would drop by. On the way there, guess who is standing outside his bar having a smoke? The dude I dated this summer--you know, the one I wrote about previously who was the weirdo that didn't have any furniture or TV or internet in his house. So I waved hi to him and he said hello, but I could tell he was a little weirded out. Whatever. So my date and I go into the restaurant to see my friend and we have a pretty good conversation.

But something strange happened. He told me about his last girlfriend and their relationship and how it ended. Long story short, she was texting and talking to another guy that she had hooked up with once, who lives across the country, and my date found out and put up with it for about six months. He said that he loved her, they were together--lived together--for two years. This changed the way that I looked at him. For one, he became more human. Rather than just being another guy on my dancecard, he had feelings. He was in love. He was hurt by this love. When he told me this story, he had so many expressions on his face. He became a real person to me. Second, I couldn't believe that he would put up with the lying and cheating for six months!! I told him that I am the type to cut it off right then and there. I can't imagine why someone would put up with it for a minute, let alone six months. You know, sometimes I really don't want to hear stories about someone's past, you know? So now he was a very human doormat to me....

Well we get to my bar to have a few and see my friends and guess who was sitting at the bar? The guy I went on a date with weeks ago--the one I wrote about here who is shorter than me. Holy crap. And it turned out that I had told him earlier in the day that I couldn't hang out with him that night because I had plans. Lo and behold, not only did he see firsthand what my plans were, but he soon became a part of them. Would you believe it, there I was at the bar, standing between two men that I have had recent dates with, entertaining the both of them!! I swear that my friends must have been looking at me thinking what an insane nut I am. But the really, really weird thing was that it wasn't weird. Well, not for me anyway. But the two guys got along pretty well, and we had a pleasant time. Then my date asked me to go back to his house with him. I declined. He had to go home earlier than I wanted to leave, so I stayed at the bar with the other guy that I went out with. We had a few more drinks together and we were flirting a bit. Then he had to go and asked me to come back to his place with him. I declined his invite too. So he left and I kept drinking with my friends.

Normally I would go home with my date and stay with him for the night, but for reasons unknown, I opted out this time around. I don't know, it just felt right that I go home alone last night....which is the total opposite of the new dating rules....

A Relationship Tale As Told By someecards

Once upon a time in New York City, there was a single guy and a single girl who both happened to have ended up in the same bar after work one evening. They locked eyes across a crowded room. They made their way to each other through the crowd and chatted for a minute.

After some more conversation and their second drink, they made plans to get together.

So they decide to go back to the guys house. They get there, and after another drink, they talk some more.
They hooked up. The next day, after an awkward parting and an entire day of guilt and self loathing, they get through it, and don't think about the meeting until the weekend. When lonliness and boredom set in, they get into contact and start seeing each other.

After about two months, both guy and girl come to their own separate realisations about the other, which, eerily seem to echo their sentiments about former lovers.

Oh yes, guy and girl contemplate the overly passionate, reasonably OK, drunken sex they have been having for the past two months.

So guy and girl go their separate ways. They are both sad and lonely. Guy goes on to the next drunken bar hook up, girl sits with friend talking about the near future.

The End....until happy hour tomorrow....

Meow!!

It seems somehow that I have inadvertantly become a cougar. I don't want to be one, but it seems lately that I keep attracting guys that are on the low end of their twenties!! How did this happen? I mean, I don't wanna be a cougar!! What the hell am I supposed to do with a freshly blossomed man? Granted that I look younger than I am, but in my mind, it's not all about looks. I don't know, maybe they like my confidence and wisdom attached to the seemingly young looking face....

I have to say though that the young guys have AMAZING bodies. Now that's where the cougar kind of creeps up. The other night I was talking to this twenty one year old and he started showing me his tattoos and I was like, "MOMMA LIKE!!" Hell, I think it showed on my face because he got a lot closer after that.

Or the twenty three year old I was talking to at work and I flirtatiously leaned over the bar to touch his arms, squeezed his biceps and I swear to god, my blood ran cold, my thighs burst into flame and I forgot how to speak English....I just kind of made gutteral noises between my girlish giggling. That dude had guns. (For those of you not hip to the lingo, guns are arms, not actual weapons. I guess in this day and age, I have to specify because we live in a crazy gun-toting, shoot 'em up, violence happy society.) And he had a really nice smile too I must add. I told him how old I am and he still was hitting on me and asking me for my phone number!!

Now going on the track record I have had with guys my age, dare I become a cougar? I think not. Because if I can't get a man my age who "gets it", or even gets me for that matter, what the hell can a young buck do for me?!?! Of course there is the arguement that cougars and young men hook up for the sex. Yes, I too like sex, but that is not all I seek. I want so much more than that and though it would be fucking AWESOME to go at it with a young man and see how long it takes me to dry his well, it wouldn't really thrill me in the long run.

But hey, I'm not saying that they should stop hitting on me....

: )

Gone Again

So the British guy is no more. Yet another short lived New York affair...

He told me last week at the last moment that he had an out of town visitor coming in for the weekend. OK, I thought, no biggie. I'd let him hang with his friend and not say anything about seeing each other while the friend was around. So I sent him a text on Friday, the first day the friend got in. I just sent a nice, cute little text saying that I was thinking of him.

No answer back.

So I waited a day or two, thinking that they were busy catching up and he just didn't pay attention to the first text. Or maybe he saw it, smiled and kept on hanging out. I sent another one, saying something along the lines of "Where are you?"

No answer.

OK. At that point I was puzzled and a little pissed. We had been spending a lot of our free time together and I thought that we were kind of cool with each other. I mean, we layed on the couch, watched movies together, ordered food in all the time, fooled around, took showers together--you know, couple stuff. Yet now, here I was all of the sudden out in the lurch. And for no reason I could think of. I was just cast away!! So I let another day or two go by and I sent another text in which I said, "Not quite sure why you have stopped speaking to me..."

Still no answer.

Until the next day. He sent me a text which he said that he was sorry he was MIA and that he was an idiot, he thought he lost his phone during the weekend but it he finally found it in his store. What a crock of shit. And I told him I didn't believe it. And then guess what? You guessed it, no answer after that. So at that point I had had it. That switch that you have inside, you know the one that is on for someone you care about but can be switched off when you are so through with them? Mine switched off, and then broke off so it could not be turned back on again. So I sent a text stating that I didn't want to see him. Then all of the sudden I get texts saying that he wants to see me and he's sorry. I told him that he could state his case to me in person at work.

Now before I tell you the crock of bullshit he layed on me, I must state that it was at this time that it hit me that that motherfucker was hanging out with another woman. Think about it. If he had a guy friend in town, he would have at the very least answered my texts or given me a call. In my experience what guys do is bring their friends around to show off the new girl they're seeing. If that had been a male friend, he would have invited me out with them or swung by my bar, sat for a few free beers and he would have shown me off. I know how guys operate. But he didn't do any of that. So that's how I knew it was a woman he had over. I told him in one of my texts that I suspected he did and it turns out I was right.

He comes to the bar, sits down and spun me this tale about how he knew this woman before me, made plans for her to visit this weekend. He said that he told her about me. And then toward the end of her visit, she tells him that she wants to be with him and to dump me, and he was totally surprised by her plea. He said that he let her know that he couldn't do that, and she got embarrassed and called up the airline to make he flight out earlier because she was embarrassed.

Umm. OK. First off, I bet he knew that woman had feelings for him, hence his keeping his distance from me. If he had told her about me, it would have been no problem to text or call me. He would have brought her to my bar and had us meet. But he knew that she liked him, or even deeper than that, he was playing the game, that explains why I hadn't heard from him. What an asshole. It wasn't like we were exclusive or anything, he didn't have to try to keep this woman from me. But he's so stupid that he has NO GAME and fucked this all up big time in like the worst possible way!! This goes down in the annals of the "Worst Game" Hall of Fame, and we're not talking about sports guys... Ugh. I feel so stupid now for hanging out with a guy that is that retarded!! And by the way, he had no ass either, but I let it slide for the accent. Who's the bigger loser, me or him?!?! (At this point, you are supposed to say him.) And this on the heels of the no furniture having loser.

God....

My Summer Guy

Well I forgot to tell of the guy I was seeing for a bit this summer. A real piece of work. We were together for about two months, I knew it wasn't going to last after about two weeks. Why didn't I end it then? Oh I don't know. I think it was a combination of his being uber-sensitive and the fact that he was tall and good looking. However, as you know, when you aren't into the person anymore, the looks don't matter. So in essence, what it comes down to is that I let it drag on because he was tall. God how sad...

Well the problems all started when I realised that he didn't have anything going on in his life. He only worked two nights a week (bartender) and other than that, he did nothing. He wasn't taking any classes, wasn't working on a novel, wasn't saving up to buy a boat, wasn't painting, wasn't doing anything--nothing!! One night he got totally drunk--we had only been together about two weeks--and he went on a tirade about how the things I told him about my dreams, my plans for the future, didn't include him. Umm....let me repeat that. My dreams about the future--things I had planned LONG before I had even met him--didn't include him. Two weeks I had been with him, and he was mad that I didn't include him in my life long dreams... It was like he expected me to be his everything now that we were dating because he was doing nothing.

But it went even way beyond that. He didn't have any furniture!! Yeah, I swear, he didn't have any furniture. He didn't have a couch, table, no dressers, bureaus, desk, chairs, lamps, shelves, end tables, anything!! All he had was a futon-like bed in the bedroom and a coffee table in the front room (he lives in a two room apartment) that had crap all over it. So not having a couch made it seem like he didn't even have that coffee table with the crap all over it. What did we do when we watched DVD's that he played on his PS2 you ask? Sat on the floor. Yes, you heard right, we sat on the floor. I tried to give it a shot, but after a couple of times of bruising my ass trying to give this guy a chance, I got over it....real fast. I even stormed out of his house one night angry that he had me sitting on the floor in his house. I mean, he didn't even buy oversized pillows or anything to throw on the floor for us to hang!! Not only that, he didn't have a cell phone, no internet, no cable, no satellite radio, not even a working television!! The TV that he had worked on an antenna, and he got it third-hand from a friend of his, and the picture was totally fucked. When trying to watch a Jets game one Sunday, I swear I couldn't tell which team was which because the picture was so bad. And he also had an old school stereo, you know, the kind that you had back in college--the one piece unit that had the three CD changer, the tape player and the radio...which also used an antenna. And he didn't even have any CD's. No DVD's.

So what did I do when I stayed over at his place you ask? Nothing. We just got there after a night of drinking, fooled around, then woke up and I would do my best to get the hell out of there. Would you believe his apartment was a fucking dead zone for my cell, I couldn't even get on the web on my phone. It was horrible!! And the longer I hung out there, the worse it got. I tried to give him a chance, but it became totally clear hat he didn't have a thing to offer to the relationship...at all.

But he wanted me to be with him all the time. He'd get mad at me when I told him I had to get home so I could do things like my banking, emailing, blogging and even general laying on the couch to watch movies, things I could not do at his bullshit apartment. He treated me as if I were to drop everything I had going on in my life for the relationship. Like I was supposed to be in some fantasy love cocoon with him and watch the world go by together as he had alone all those years.

Sure buddy.

Needless to say, it ended way too long after it should have: two months. Thank god he has the good sense to stay away from me and not bother me, which I think is because he knows that he's fucking crazy.

Why are there so many crazy, un-cute guys in New York City?!?!

...You're Welcome

I have started seeing this Brih-ish bloke this week. Nice fellow, tall, soft spoken, sweet and a music nut like me. And also very good that he has Irish heritage so that he can keep up with my drinking...

So anyway, today we spent the whole day together at his place, kind of lazing around, kicking our hangovers, then we got up enough energy to consummate. It wasn't bad. Then we went to take a shower together, and wouldn't you know it, in true British form, he turns to me in the shower and says, "That was very nice, thank you."

Never can one say that the British have lost their politeness even in this day and age......

My Date Last Night

OK so I had a date last night with a dude I met a couple of weeks ago at my bar. I hadn't seen him for a while, but we had texted on the phone for a bit. Now I have this crazy problem with my memory...oh I don't know, could have been all that pot I used to smoke. I wore my new heeled boots and when he walks up to me at the bar in the restaurant, I forgot how much shorter than me he is. So of course, here we are walking through the restaurant, this guy and me, the bohemith amazon. Not to mention the fact that when I was waiting for him at the bar, I was chatting with this other guy that struck up a conversation with me. So when my guy shows up, we three are talking and I happened to have stood up for the two of them and would you believe it? I felt like Snow White with two of the dwarves.

Well we ate a fabulous seafood dinner--king crab legs, oysters, two bottles of wine, trout and scallops. I got bombed on the wine. White wine always gets to me. Except champagne. Go figure. Anyway, I made the suggestion that we go hang at my bar for a bit, as he lives right near it and I wanted people at work to see who I was with just in case of my sudden disappearance.

I keep myself safe that way.

Far be it from me to be rude (drunk) and in the cab on the way to my bar and as my date was talking, I kept thinking about how short he is (wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying) and I grabbed him and kissed him. Wasn't as passionate as I would have liked. He sat there and kissed me back, but I swear he was more analysing the meaning behind it (my penchant serial drunk makeouts) rather than enjoying it. Laaaaaammme.

So we get to my bar and we keep drinking. My co-workers got to see me drunk. Not work drunk, but regular drunk. I don't even remember what the hell I was drinking or how much I had, but I do remember that this one guy who I'm pretty sure likes me got all jealous that I was out on a date...with a shorter, older, and probably in his mind less cooler guy. And the guy I was on the date with told me that he thought that the other guy likes me. He said that when we first met, that guy was giving him the stink eye!! So here I am with new guy on a date and this must have burned my admirer up. Oh yes, oh yes...

Not sure how I feel about my admirer, but I would make out with him. Totally.

Well I go back home with my date and at this point, I remember walking up the stairs, then I remember getting into bed, then telling him I need to pass out and I can't fool around anymore, then I wake up and he's standing across the room naked!! Hahaha!! I just looked at his penis and thought, "Oh god." I don't know why I thought that, possible it was the hangover speaking. But now that I think about it, I didn't see any pubes, just flesh. Weird.

Would you believe as I just wrote that last sentence, I just got a text from him and he's drunk again tonight and asked me if I took the hanger from his closet. Hahahaha!! I should state that this apartment is his Manhattan apartment, he has a house in Staten Island. So he doesn't really keep much clothing there and has only one hanger...which has now gone missing. And he just drunk texted me about it.

Oh yeah, this blog should be good.

This Is the First Post.....

So this is the first post of my latest blog. I figured that I'd start talking about the things that go on in my crazy dating life in one place, rather than periodically (*sigh*) whining or bitching about it in my regular blog. So here it is, tales of my auto erotic flagellation, or you may know it as "dating"...