Friday, September 29, 2006

"There's just nothing wrong with you. I guess you keep falling for the wrong people."

Ah, Friday. I would be rejoicing in your arrival if I did not have oodles of work to do. Laundry Pile of Doom? Yes. Outstanding freelance project that should have been done on Monday? Yes. Sort out the tattered remains of my love life? Yes.

Oh no, what happened with Holly, you ask? Well it seems that in the wake of the "I'm in love with someone else and it's not fair to you conversation," things have reverted to an almost pre-Provincetown level. Oh goody. Why do I keep banging my head against the wall and wondering why it still hurts? Because I'm a masochist.

Seriously folks. Fuck Holly. Fuck OFAG. I have two cats now, one of whom likes to sleep in the space between my curled legs, and that's all I need.

So in the meantime I can revel in the fact that my new job is AWESOME. Why it took me so long to leave my last job is beyond me. Oh that's right -- I'm a masochist.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

"Oh well aren't we Miss Popularity?"

Although it was 5 am, someone was laughing -- a full throated belly laugh that echoed through the pre-dawn stillness and roused me from sleep. The windows were open and I could hear everything. A dog began to bark in response and a car door slammed. I slowly turned in my bed to find that Jasper had curled himself up next to me sometime during the night, but his ears were perked. Even he had been startled by the sudden outburst from the street below.

Brooklyn is never truly silent and though I am well used to the noise by now, the addition of kitties to my apartment means that every little thump wakes me up. Much to my dismay, Jasper and Theo like to wake around 6 am and start their day with a vigorous game of chase. I wonder if their previous owners were early risers because if I am not up to feed them, Jasper usually reminds me with a long high-pitched yowl that it's time for breakfast.

I've had a hard time getting up the past few days. Maybe it's the abbreviated sleep pattern, but has taken multiple cups of coffee to get my brain somewhere close to functioning. I have been spending my first couple of mornings at my new job in a slow daze and gazing out onto the Empire State Building from the tenth floor of my office building. Though I am temporarily sitting at a new coworker's desk while my new computer is set up, I just found out today that I will be occupying the next desk over in this corner office, which will afford a perch above 33rd Street and 180 degree views of Midtown and the coveted Empire State Building.

I do think I have scored a coup!

In the meantime I've had to adjust to a new neighborhood and answer the following questions: how long will it take me to get to my new job?; where will I get my morning toast?; and more importantly, where will I eat lunch?

Friday, September 22, 2006

"That girl is poison!"

Two strange stories to recount. One, my cat Theo spent a good twenty minutes fellating himself yesterday. I was unsure if I should stop him or applaud him for his safe sex practices. In any case, the boys will be getting neutered perhaps sooner rather than later.

Two, as I crossed Bleecker Street at Carmine on my way to meet Nan at the Cubbyhole, I was magically transported back to the year 1990. I was 11-years-old again and someone was playing "Poison" by Bell Biv DeVoe very loudly on a boombox. A BOOMBOX. In the age of the iPod, who the hell has a boombox these days? The answer was before me. About five or so young black gentlemen crossed the street from the other side. One had the boombox and all were dressed circa 1990 -- Hammer pants, acid washed jeans, oldskool gold chains that would make Run DMC proud, lines buzzed into their Kid 'n Play-esque 'fros. I even think one did the "Running Man" as he tried to cross a street in front of a bemused Towncar driver. And as they walked down Carmine, the sound of Bel Biv Devoe fading in the background, the world shifted back to 2006 and the rift in the space-time continuum sealed itself up.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

"I keep thinking it's Friday."

Let us pause for a moment to revel in this euphoria that I am feeling.

[ exhales ]

[ smiles ]

Brain chemicals are fun, aren't they? And my brain is definitely well aware that today is my second to last day at work and I can barely concentrate. I'm very much looking forward to getting a little wankered at my Big Fuck Off Happy Hour tomorrow In addition, not only am I'm wearing a new sweater and earrings, but I just got paid.

The kittens are adjusting well. Their official names are Jasper and Theo. They like to run around my apartment and chase each other at 6 am and I swear that they would keep eating if I continually fed them.

I have nothing else to report. Holly is away on business and won't be back till late Saturday. In the meantime, t-minus 26 hours and 12 minutes till quitin' time.

Monday, September 18, 2006

"Got kittens?"

This weekend was notable for three things. One, Holly and I had a rather interesting and honest conversation. Two, I became the parent of two kittens. And three, I fell off a roof.

You did not read incorrectly. I fell off a roof. Or rather I fell off a ladder from the roof of a structure and to the main roof of my friend Nan's four story apartment building in Park Slope. Why was I on the roof?? Well five of us were hanging out there and looking at Nan's amazing views of Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty. It was dark and I was going to climb down the ladder to fetch a beer. That's when I fell the five feet or so between the edge of the top structure and the main roof.

And I fell hard.

But only five feet, you scoff? Well I should mention that I fell on the wooden stepladder, shattering it, and landed on my tailbone and the splintered wood. Then I was thrown on my back and smacked my head against the roof. Holly and my friends came rushing to the edge when they heard the crash and thought that they were going to have to call 911. Flat on my back and distinctly aware that it's never good when the head bounces against something hard, all I wanted to do was lay there because moving would confirm just how bad I had hurt myself. A friend jumped down to help me up and thankfully nothing was broken nor was I impaled on the pieces of ladder. All I suffered was a serious ass bruise, a cut on my hand, and some wounded pride. Nan offered me some scotch and I spent the next hour coming out of shock.

As for the kittens, they arrived the next day. They were suitably freaked out much like I was freaked out by falling off a roof. When they weren't hiding under my bed, they were scampering around my apartment All Night Long. I guess that's a good sign, but it made for some abbreviated sleeping. In the morning I was pleased to discover that they had eaten all their food and had used the litter box, but were still using the space beneath my bed as a base of operations.

Holly had come over to see them Sunday evening at which point one had been hiding in the litter box and the other in the tiny space between my radiator and wall. When it was apparent that neither would come out and let us pet them, she tried to help me come up with names for them. Castor and Pollux? Germaine and Tito? Not having come up with any main contenders, I then steered the conversation towards our relationship.

I've noticed that Holly has been giving off a freaked out vibe herself. While she is not hiding under my bed with the cats, I've noticed that she's retreated behind this wall that she has. I told her my observations in an attempt to figure out what she was thinking. I told her that I loved her. She told me that she loved me, but is basically still dealing with her feelings for her boss. "I'm in love with someone else," she confessed, "and it's not fair to you."

Believe or not I can understand this. Even though a relationship ends, you have to figure out what to do with the feelings that you still have for someone. In Holly's case, she still loves her boss though is aware of the myriad reasons why the relationship had to end. Then she has her feelings for me that is only making her more freaked out. And it doesn't help that she still works with her boss and is thus confronted with the fucked up situation on a regular basis.

We talked for a while, which was really refreshing because for some reason we're both really evasive with our feelings. She usually retreats behind her wall and I retreat to a safe distance. Though we ended the conversation on a good note, I think the consensus is that her and I are going to wait on things till she can deal with her feelings for her boss. I know, I know. Story of my life, but can you really expect any different from our oft thwarted relationship?

"You know I really think you're a dyke," I said as we sat entwined on my couch.

"I think I am too."

"You're just shedding the last of your heterosexuality."

After we kissed some more, I added, "I've been very very patient."

"I know you have."

"One day . . ." I paused to kiss her earlobe. "One day I am going to do some very
. . . very . . . very naughty things to you."


"Yes. And it's non negotiable."

"I think I can get behind that."

Thursday, September 14, 2006

"Save some time for me this weekend if you can."

Some random thoughts:

• Whomever is responsible for the return of the vest as ladies fashion item needs to be dragged out into the street and shot.

• I keep seeing this woman around the area in which I work. It's one of those types of situations where we're both racking our brains to try and figure out where we know each other from. And as I passed her crossing Houston and Broadway today, it finally hit me: I went to college with her. In Virginia.

* My ten year high school reunion is set for October 7th. Beth reminds me, in case I was hesitating on going, that I "have lots of success to show off at the reunion!" Well, quite. I also have the urge to show up at the reunion and make an utter scene knowing that I have four New York aces in my back pocket. Mr. Bad Apologies, you with me?

• I will become a mom for two cats this Sunday. Names are pending and so is the verdict on whether this is a completely insane idea or just a first step in becoming a lesbian cliché.

• I need to learn Flash by September 25th. Look at me go!

• I realized I had an outstanding invoice floating about. I heart billing people for $500.

• Mysterious Blog Reader writes me to congratulate the recent turn of events with Holly and offers her services as a beer buddy. Hurrah!

• I have asked Val for my sari back. No word yet.

• I haven't seen Holly since Sunday and I'm getting restless. However she writes, "Save some time for me this weekend if you can." Oh yes I shall.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

"There's a right way to leave a job and a wrong way."

As much as I bitched last week that I wished I had only given the standard two weeks notice, I knew that by being generous I would (1) show that I was not out to screw over my bosses and (2) reap the karma for being such a good person. Karma has manifested itself as an opportunity to do freelance work with my job, which is really the main reason I didn't come walking in from my Seattle vacation proclaiming, "I'm leaving, motherfuckers!!" even though I was tempted. And by giving a month's notice I knew that it was going to make up for the shitty fact that I'm leaving when our editorial director is out on three month's maternity leave.

Karma may be even more bountiful than your standard freelance work because it looks as though I will be paid by my current job on a freelance basis till they hire a new graphic designer. In addition, I will be paid to come in after my new higher paying job and train my replacement. And in addition to that, I will be paid to layout the issue supplements. Are these dollar signs in my eyes?

This brings me to the quote I used for this entry's title. There is indeed a right way to leave your job and a wrong way. The right way, as my boss referenced this morning sitting amongst us, is my decision to give a month's notice. I will be rewarded for my generosity. The wrong way, he went on to explain, conspicuously sitting in my new coworker's desk chair, is to tell your boss that you are leaving to take a new job after
only six days of work. Apparently that is what my new coworker did -- told my boss that he had been still interviewing even though he took the job with us. My boss was understandably not happy and new coworker became old coworker. And now not only does my boss have to find my replacement, but he has to start the search all over again for the now vacant editor position.

Ladies and gentlemen, if there is a moral to this story it is that you do not burn your bridges. New York may be a big city, but it is freakishly a small town at times and you never know when you're going to run into someone again. As my boss said, It's a real "scumbag" thing to do and I have to agree.

Monday, September 11, 2006

"I'm looking forward to reading the next chapter of your continuing adventures."

Though my adventures never seem to be banal -- more like screwball -- I started this blog as a chronicle of the mundane and the transition from Washingtonian to New Yorker. Then it morphed into me whining about my feelings for Holly only to morph again into OFTL. If my life were a book, this is where the next chapter would begin.

Actually I've been thinking OFTL would make a good book and have been moving through the last eight months with some idea that when OTFL or the year came to the end, I would gather up all my experiences and write something where each month was its own themed chapter. Something akin to a tongue-in-cheek dating manual wrapped up in a memoir. For instance, the January chapter would be about online dating and the five first dates I went on tentatively titled "Shock and Awe." I might be posting draft chapters in the coming month so I can get feedback.

Although I saw Holly Friday night, we were with other people celebrating a birthday and thus didn't get any one on one time. She was supposed to join me on Saturday for another birthday party, but backed out as she wasn't feeling well. On Sunday afternoon I called her and asked, "So, how are you planning on entertaining me today?" We decided on Lebanese food at a place by her South Slope apartment. We hung out, ate hummus, and smoked some hookah. The air temperature cooled quite a bit and we both shared her red shawl as we walked to Cafe Steinhof for a beer, my arm wrapped around her waist. Afterwards she was feeling tired so we headed towards her place as it was also on the way to the subway. On the corner, I pulled her towards me and kissed her wishing that it wasn't Sunday night and wishing we could commence with some much needed debauchery. But it was dark and she was tired so I held onto the curve of her hip as we kissed a little more.

"Call me sometime this week?" she begged.

"Of course."

Saturday, September 09, 2006

"Best of luck in your relationship, but I think it is best if we don't speak again."

Just a final word on SNDG and thus the last gasp of OFAG: People are weird.

So after she sent her email earlier this week telling me of another relationship she was embarking on, I sent an email back with a kind of "whatever" tone and told her of the new relationship I was embarking on. I thought we could have been friends as we had a good rapport, albeit not sexual. Like I said, whatever.

I got a response this morning:

I am a dishonest person. I misrepresented myself in my response to you and carried on when I didn't feel anything and when I was in love with someone else.

What I did has ruined what was probably the most important relationship I've ever had.

Best of luck in your relationship, but I think it is best if we don't speak again.

Huh? Bit strongly worded, don't you think? Actually a bit unnecessary as we only met twice. Why people have to make a big deal out of nothing is beyond me. Her choice of words is interesting, especially the use of "dishonest" and "misrepresented." Is she not really bisexual as she claimed? Is she not telling me the whole story? Not a good person? If it's the later, wow . . . I must not be as good a judge of character as I thought I was.

Looks like I'll be needing someone to go with me to the Sufjan Stevens concert on September 29th. J-Wo? You will be visiting me that night after all . . .

Friday, September 08, 2006

"That said, more details please."

Why oh why did I give my office a month's notice? If I had gone with the standard two weeks, today would have been my last day. Sweet Christ, if I had known that my lame duck period would drive me to tears of boredom or that my boss was just now posting my vacancy, then I wouldn't have been so generous.

Instead I have two weeks left. TWO WEEKS! Can it come any slower? And how jealous am I that Mr. Bad Apologies and J-Wo are currently sunning it up in Hawaii!

So it's Friday and I'm drumming my fingers against my keyboard because I have a happy hour to go to at 6:30 pm and time to kill at work beforehand. I've run out of blogs and interesting New York Times articles to read. I've cleaned out one of my various email account's inbox and took pleasure in deleting the messages of old girlfriends. I've also sadly contemplated that I haven't heard from Holly since we departed on Wednesday night and thusly am feeling a little antsy.

J-Wo made a good point in the comments section asking what "appropriate level of disclosure" will I take in letting Holly know about my blog. Sigh. I've always known that that day would come whether it was I who told her or a slip up from someone else (Note to J-Wo: Don't call her Holly when you meet her), but I will . . . someday. Though I have no problem with her reading my uncensored thoughts, I do feel bad for airing her dirty laundry on multiple occasions.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

"Maybe we should identify September as a 'Sweeps' month like the networks do."

If there is any irony to OFTL -- and later OFAG -- it is that in spite of all my searching over the last eight months it was really Holly that I was looking for. Our union was waiting for its moment as I went through first date after first date looking for Ms. Right. And in the end the push we needed was a misdirected drunken kiss that sent me into action, confirming something that I long since knew but had given up on -- that Holly and I were meant to be together. It only took a year and a half.

Love is a funny thing. I loathe to think that I might be using this blog to gush like a twelve year old over an object of affection, so I'm going to hold back on any teary eyed effusions. The spirit of OFTL and OFAG will remain, but these campaigns have effectively come to an end.

One of the characteristics of my friendship with Holly has been our inability to say what we are really thinking. I have since learned to read her really well and can usually guess with accuracy what is going on in her mind. As a result it should be no surprise that it took so long (with some help from our friend, Mr. Alcohol) for us to say what we had been silently saying for many months. And it should come as no surprise that it took a few beers last night until our conversation stopped skirting around the issue and we started talking about us.

"I really missed you this weekend," she said holding my hand as we sat on bar chairs.

"Though I feel kind of retarded, I missed you too." After a pause I ask as our fingers entwine, "So what are we doing here? Are we dating? Are we taking things slow? Is this slow?"

"I just don't want to move in on the second date. You know the old cliche. What does a lesbian bring on a second date? A U-haul."

"I don't want that either," I say with a smile and realizing I'm a little tipsy. And probably because I am tipsy, I'm wishing we weren't in a public place so I can do all sorts of naughty things to her. I note that she is wearing a skirt.

"Well I'm not seeing anyone right now," she adds with a sweep of her hand that breaks me from my x-rated train of thought. I wonder if this is her way of reaffirming that her and her boss are over.

"Neither am I." My mind flashes to SNDG and her recent email. "You know that girl I went out on a couple dates with? Well she said she was seeing someone so looks like we're all clear."

"I don't want you to blow off anyone on my account."

I lean in and give her a kiss. "Of course not. I've always thought you were lovely."

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

"I miss you."

I know, I know. I can practically hear your drumming fingers on my side of the computer screen. The reason there hasn't been an entry in a few days is because there hasn't been anything to share on the Holly front -- we have been in a holding pattern since she has been traveling.

But no more! Not only did she (belatedly) respond to my text this weekend with an "I miss you," but she called me yesterday evening and we made plans to meet for dinner tonight. ¡Dios mio! I might explode.

In the meantime I've been clearing a path or rather having one cleared for me. Remember Saturday Night Date Girl with whom I had two dates? She wrote me last night to say that she was seeing someone and didn't want to deceive me. Well that was easy -- now I can focus on Holly without having to initiate the awkward conversation with SNDG myself.

So my plan for tonight? Lay all my cards on the table.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

". . . obviously you are a flaming socialite with more lover/friend drama then a queen in the Castro!?"

Now for my monthly OFAG update.

First dates: 1

Second dates: 1
Lesbians who have seriously flirted with me: 1
Lesbians that could be more than friends: 1
Lesbians kissed: 2
Lesbians tackled: 1
Lesbians who said I am their soulmate: 1

August, August, August. What a hell of a month. New job, father's accident, dating, nine states visited, and a reckoning between Holly and I. Did I mention I was broke too? Thinking about getting two kittens? Is this whiplash I'm feeling?

My life has turned upside down, but if anything I think these changes portend a new and prosperous phase in my life as if I have finally actualized what I initially moved to New York for. As Mr. Bad Apologies says, "How in the FUCK did [you] isolate yourself so well in Silver Spring, when obviously you are a flaming socialite with more lover/friend drama then a queen in the Castro!?" I do think that's one of the best compliments that has ever been made about me.

So what of Holly? Well, I saw her and her parents on Wednesday and because we had an audience I was not able to plumb how things have changed between us or whether last weekend was a fluke. And since Holly has been out of town since Thursday and will not be back till Monday, everything is on hold. Sigh.

There you go. I don't know what is going on between us. If I had to wage an educated guess based on the fact that I've known Holly for a year and a half, I would say that she's scared about the change between us even though she wants it -- she's scared of sabotaging her happiness. And me? I'm just scared that things will stall out.