tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65255252024-03-07T15:50:23.914-08:00I'm Just Not That Into You: A Dating Blog<i>"Having lunch with you is like watching an episode of Sex and the City"</i>
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<img src="http://www.imjustnotthatintoyou.com/me.jpg" width="100" align="right">So it begins, my dating blog. I will attempt to change the names of the people in this blog as much as I can in order to protect the not so innocent. We'll see how that goes. I'm attempting to keep this blog as a tool for my emotions and for your entertainment. Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.comBlogger122125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1160951837098503922006-10-15T15:35:00.000-07:002006-10-15T15:37:17.116-07:00Well dear readers, this will be my final post. I know it's been months since my last post but I've been rather busy with Terintiny. In fact, last week, he asked me to marry him. So that's it, I'm a married woman (well not quite yet). Thanks so everyone for reading. Good luck to all of you!Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1146249995729906612006-04-28T11:46:00.000-07:002006-04-28T11:46:35.760-07:00I’d like to say that I’ve been really really busy and that’s why my attempt at starting up this blog has, for all intents and purposes, failed. That’s not exactly true. Mostly, I’m lazy and don’t have too much to write about.<br /><br />T is still in Canada. I went up to visit him last weekend and what was supposed to be a nice, romantic weekend, ended up being a miserably, rainy bitch fest. We could not stop picking at each other. I think that’s what happens when you haven’t seen someone in a long time. You build up this perfect person in your head and when you finally do get to see them, they can only disappoint. Not that this weekend was any detriment to our relationship. I am still blissfully in love with him. All this weekend did was convince me that he MUST come home. This stress of being apart is really starting to destroy us. I worry that he isn’t working as hard as he should to come back home.<br /><br />This whole experience is really teaching me how much of a “do-er” I really am. I said to T while I was in Toronto that if it were me in his position, I would have been back in New York. He agreed and apologized for allowing this to go on so long. But he still had no solutions for me. It’s frustrating and if I didn’t love him so much, he’d be kicked to the curb. Unfortunately, I’m in love with him, which means that I am fucked.<br /><br />On another note, I hung out with my coworker last night. We all went out to an office party, where I sipped diet coke and made snarky comments about our jobs. When all of our other coworkers went off to bigger and better parties, coworker and I stuck around to shmooze with to execs. He bought me drinks and made jokes about how he’s my other Jewish Canadian. I couldn’t help but feel like this could have ended badly. Let me allay fears. Even though I hung out with him till way past midnight, nothing happened. Maybe some harmless flirting but nothing more than that. It did make me realize that I do still kinda like him. At least, I don’t despise him and he certainly doesn’t despise me.<br /><br />After the work party, he and I headed to a party thrown by his alumni association. He coerced me into going by promising that there would be drunk Canadians. I can’t pass up an opportunity to hear drunken Canuks say “Aboot” so I went. And I had a good time. It made me realize that I hadn’t really been out and certainly hadn’t been drinking, in a very long time. And it was nice to be out, meeting new people. I texted T all night though…Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1144769491409071982006-04-11T08:31:00.000-07:002006-04-11T08:31:31.426-07:00I’d like to talk about exes. More specifically, I would like to talk about the sorry ass people who date your exes after you kick them to the curb.<br /><br />Okay that’s mean, but kinda true.<br /><br />Here’s the story. 2 and a half years ago I was dating a boy. We had been dating for about 2 years when things started to go a little south. His mother always hated me because I was the heathen Jew having sex with her son and he kinda let him control her. So it took about 6 months for us to actually break up. In this time, I introduced my ex to a friend of mine from college, Lauren. I guess they took a liking to each other and started hanging out a lot…behind my back. At one point (I found this out after we broke up) she said to him “NotIntoYou doesn’t treat you right, I can treat you better.”<br /><br />So you bet, weeks after he and I broke up, they started dating. All of his friends hated her and hated the way she manifested her insecurities as control over him. So they broke up…sort of. They are constantly being caught hanging out and my friend even caught him doing the walk of shame back from Lauren’s apartment in Queens.<br /><br />Anyway, none of this was an issue because I wanted to have as little as possible to do with my ex. Until recently. Some of you who actually know me, know I’m making a record. And I hit a little snag and I needed his help. He’s one of the best producers that will work for pennies, so I called him up. And we started working together and it’s great! I put his name up on my website, telling people that he’s helping out and everything will be great!<br /><br />Then this morning I get this phone call from him. He’s stammering and sounding completely retarded. He says to me, “I was wondering if you could take my name off your website. There are certain people who might be upset if they knew I was working with you…” I knew immediately it was Lauren and I said “are you dating Lauren again?” Weakly, like a man beaten down he told me he was. I laughed, I couldn’t help it. This girl seems to be controlling him even when they are on again off again. I feel for the guy, really I do, but he lets women control him. Anyway, I had to do it. I don’t want to piss him off. I took his name off the site. I think it’s ridiculous, but it’s not really that big of an issue.<br /><br />When I hung up the phone, I couldn’t help but get all angry and emotional. I mean, who is this girl? Why does she think I have any interest in ever wanting this boy, who I dumped (not just broke up with, I kicked him to the curb) and never even looked back? It’s totally and completely irrational and I’m kinda pissed about it. I mean, I want to have a professional relationship with this person and having the anxiety of a jealous girlfriend hanging over my head, makes that difficult. At least he didn’t tell me he wasn’t doing the record anymore. I would have to kill both of them if that happened.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1144184521858298742006-04-04T13:59:00.000-07:002006-04-04T14:02:01.870-07:00You know what sucks? Being responsible for someone else’s visa!<br /><br />Let me explain. As I mentioned before, T is off in Canuk land. In order to come back, he needs to get something called a J-1 Visa which is an internship visa. Basically, it allows him to come here for 18 months to do a kind of work/study thing. The idea is at a the end of the 18 months, he goes back to Toronto and shows off his new, American skills. Obviously it’s just a means to get him here. In 18 months, I’ll think about the old ball and chain. I’m just not ready now to be a green card bride.<br /><br />Well I, always the one willing to help volunteered to look for said internship. Now his parents won’t get off my back. I made about 400 phone calls, edited T’s resume and pulled in a bunch of favors. Now it’s in T’s hands and he’s not really doing all he should do to get this done. But somehow this is my responsibility. His parents won’t stop emailing or calling me. This is not my responsibility! Of course I want to help but there is very little I can do at this point. I’ve set the foundation and T needs to follow up.<br /><br />My mom was here this weekend and it turns out that my brother is about to pop the question. Now I don’t know if I’ve brought it up before, but we’re not crazy about the girl. She’s boring, manipulative and frankly, not that cute. Mostly though, she’s boring and she doesn’t speak. But my brother says he loves her and we’re going to have to support him. Ugh, I hate being supportive when I really don’t want to be.<br /><br />Anyway all of this got me thinking about my impending engagement. I mean, T hasn’t popped the question but we have talked about it. We both decided that it is not a good idea to get married to get him back in the country (although I do miss him so much that at this point, I would). So I tried to kind of bring it up with my mom and she immediately shot it down. Basically she said that T was not in a place financially to get married. I’m a little worried he never will be at her standards. I mean, look, both my parents are lawyers and haven’t really had to struggle much. Here T and I are, 2 artists and nowhere near making what my brother or his sister (who is also getting married and also a lawyer). Anyway, as I said, I’m not actually getting married (or even engaged) any time soon so it really isn’t an issue. It’s just something (horrifying) to think about.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1144083428726955792006-04-03T09:48:00.000-07:002006-04-03T09:57:08.726-07:00We are back in business!<br /><br />I know it's been what, 4 months since last I wrote. But I swear, Blogger was broken. Hence the new URL and everything.<br /><br />Anyway for those of you who have been waiting with breath that is baited, Tarantiny and I are still together and very much in love. It's been 4 months and we are in a state of blissful, googly-eyed love!<br /><br />Sort of...<br /><br />So here's the deal. I mentioned that this boy was a boy from the North Country. That's right, our commie brother to the North, Canada. Well anyway, turns out my lovely T did not have a visa to be hanging in the states and on a trip back to Toronto for his sister's engagement party, he was stopped at the border and not allowed to return to the US. That was a little over a month ago.<br /><br />Since then, I've been to Toronto twice and racked up the cell phone bill. Fortunately T-Mobile has a discounted dialing to Canada package. Funny that Canada of all places has turned into such a foreign land. I mean, I can literally get there in 45 minutes, yet the love of my life can't get here at all. How fucked up is that?<br /><br />Anyway, I'll have more stories soon but I wanted to give a little update and let you all know that I'm back in business.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1135026962647310312005-12-19T16:15:00.000-08:002006-01-03T13:01:29.156-08:00I forgot what it feels like to actually be in love with someone.<br /><br />There, I’ve said it, let the judging begin. <br /><br />Now I know none of you have any idea what the hell I’m talking about. It has been an entire month since I have posted anything on this site. It’s not my fault! I’ve tried but fucking blogger has issues! I haven’t been able to publish anything all month. So right now, I’m doing this all manually which sucks.<br /><br />Anyway back to the L word. Tarantiny and I have been seeing each other for just under a month. In that time, the longest we have been apart has been 24 hours. He’s amazing, and the best part is, he knows that I’m amazing as well. It’s so great to finally be in a place where the person you are with feels exactly the same way about you that you do about them, no more, no less. It’s really wonderful.<br /><br />Let me try to explain, break it down, paint a picture. The fact is, none of you are really ever going to believe me because, let’s face it, I’ve said stuff like this before. So does it really matter how well I explain how well he and I get along? I’ll try. <br /><br />He’s funny. He’s really, really funny. He’s charming and very smart. He keeps me laughing all the time when we’re together. He sends me text messages every few hours just to check in and to make me smile. He carries a postcard from one of my shows around in his pocket so he can have a picture of me with him at all times. He listens to my music on his ipod. He introduces me to fun things in the city that I never thought to do.<br /><br />For example: on our 4th date (approximately 5 days after meeting) he and I met up in the village to see a movie. This wasn’t just any movie, this was Teen Witch, shown at the Sunshine theatre at midnight. Not only that, but the all grown-up actress who played teen witch was there doing a Q&A. Also, he got me to smoke a joint on the street before G-d and all the po-po! We made out (and ate shit loads of popcorn) through most of the movie. Totally fucking brilliant! <br /><br />After that, we went back to my apartment and made love. It was so cold in my apartment because our heat was broken. He had me almost completely naked except my socks. We weren’t going to have sex because we had discussed it and decided to wait…fuck waiting. I whispered in his ear “wanna make love to a girl with her socks on?” It sounded a lot hotter in the moment, I swear. He looked at me, and with the same “are you sure” look that my high school boyfriend gave me right before we lost our virginities he kissed me. And we did it and it was good. And we did it again and it was better. In the morning, we did it again and it was better…you get the point.<br /><br />Anyway, things are just good. Really, really good. He’s supportive of my music, I’m supportive of his film making. He talks about me to all his friends, I just mustered up the courage to reveal his presence to my mother. I’m happier than I have been in a long time.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1133971101286863302005-12-07T10:56:00.000-08:002005-12-19T12:43:19.136-08:00I know I know I know…<br /><br />The truth is, I haven’t been motivated to write in this thing. After my latest crushing blow with David, I was feeling kinda down in the dumps. I needed something to blame, so I blamed the blog. Now that’s not entirely fair because, let’s face it, the blog is not real. It’s something I made, from my own life, imagination and what not. Therefore, I should really be blaming myself for my own happiness or unhappiness. Which is why, after a hiatus, I have come back.<br /><br />Now there are three seemingly separate stories at play here. Story number 1, me and David, story 2 me and Tarantiny and 3, me and Cute Boy. All but one have become pretty much irrelevant. Can you guess which one?<br /><br />Story 1: I haven’t spoken to David since right before thanksgiving. We exchanged words over IM, indicating that we might be friends. I haven’t heard from him since and frankly, I don’t care.<br /><br />Story 3: Cute boy came in from Seattle last night. He was high on Zanex, alcohol and flying. I had to work so he sat and played video games for about an hour with my roommate while I did some work. We went into my room and sat down on the bed. I looked him right in the eyes and said “I have a boyfriend…”<br /><br />Which leads me to…<br /><br />Story 2: Things are great. I mean, really really great with Tarantiny and I. We haven’t been apart for more than 24 hours as of late and it’s really nice. He’s sweet, attentive, kind, creative, passionate and most of all, he feels the same about me. I’ve cooked him dinner and breakfast the next morning. He runs errands with me and he already knows what drinks to get me at Starbucks. It’s the little things isn’t it? He’s come to all of my shows, I’ve watched his short film. He’s met some of my friends, he’s told all of his about me. Life is pretty good, I’m blissfully happy and so is he. On Monday (after some great sex, a walk in the snow and cuddling), he called me his girlfriend, I called him mine, but then he said he preferred I call him my boyfriend : ).<br /><br />Yes, of course I’m waiting for that moment when the other shoe drops. I’m waiting for him to do something completely insane that turns me off forever. I’m prepared for these things. I find that even though I get super worked up over relationships (partly for the sake of the blog – hence the need for a hiatus) I still manage to keep some kind of level head. I don’t dwell too long over failed relationships. I mean, every time a new one bites the dust, I inevitably think about the past failures because I need to establish my patterns so I know how to fix them. But this is just good right now and I prefer to bask in the glow of a new, requited relationship that just feels really good.<br /><br />Back to story 3. After I told cute boy that I would not be sleeping with him, or kissing him or anything-ing him we settled into friendship land. He told me he would probably find a different place to stay for the rest of the week and I told him that would be okay. We stayed up for hours laughing and talking. I told him all about Tarantiny and how great things were. He told me about this nutty girl in Seattle that he’s been sleeping with. All in all, it was a great night. We did sleep in the same bed together but NOTHING happened. I was actually rather proud of myself because he’s difficult to resist.<br /><br />So what is this? Why all of a sudden this burst of willpower? I’ve only known Tarantiny for a little over a week. I didn’t (up until Monday night) owe him any kind of fidelity. I didn’t have to call him my boyfriend Monday night. I could have held off. The thing is, even though I knew Cute Boy was coming to town and things would be complicated, at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to call him my boyfriend.<br /><br />Damn, things are just good.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1133384997626188572005-11-30T16:09:00.000-08:002005-11-30T13:09:57.640-08:00For the first time in about 5 years, I am terrified of having sex. I’ve come to the conclusion (I can’t believe it took this long) that fucking fucks things up.<br /><br />Last night Tarantiny and I had our third date. No, no, not THE third date just a third date. I had my second show this week (2 in a row, I am totally living the life of a rockstar) and he came to take pictures, carry my guitar and lend morale support and a warm body. Around 5:45 he texted me to ask if he could come pick me up at my office and help me bring my stuff to the bar. I told him he could.<br /><br />When he got to my office I made sure to introduce him to my coworker. I introduced them to each other as “the other Canadian Jew.” It was funny, they both laughed, my coworker gave Tarantiny the stare down.<br /><br />During my show Tarantiny was all over the place. I had asked him to shoot some pictures and boy, did he take that to heart. I don’t think he sat for one minute. The boy has a lot of nervous energy…I feel like he might be on speed (insert nervous laughter here).<br /><br />After the show we went in search of brownie mix, which was impossible to find in any bodega near my house. So we gave up and went back to my place to order pizza and make out. After getting a little bit too hot and heavy, I decided to take a step back and get up and put on some music. I hit him with the “I’d like to take things slow” speech and he seemed fine with it….really, he did! <br /><br />The pizza came and he, my roommate and I sat and watched “The Biggest Loser” finale while eating pizza…ironic isn’t it? After the show ended we went back into my room to gather his stuff. It was about 1am at this point but he insisted on going home because staying would mean that we would probably get ourselves into a lot of trouble and not a lot of sleep.<br /><br />Then an hour goes by…<br /><br />He has one shoe on, my hair is all tousled and my shirt is slowly creeping its way up. We’re a fucking mess. We can’t keep our hands off each other and every other breath is one of us telling the other that this has to stop and he needs to go home. Finally, I kick him out. As I lean my head out past the door frame, he keeps running back up the stairs to give me that one last kiss. It’s fucking adorable and I think I’m going to puke.<br /><br />But once he left I spent a lot of time thinking about things. Things like, am I really attracted to this boy? I get a very strong friend vibe from him. But it’s not that standard, he’s not attractive or I’m not attracted, therefore we should be friends. This is a new sensation. He actually reminds me a lot of my ex from college. He’s very, very cute so nice, we click, he gets me and my personality, he comes up with fun things for us to do, he’s totally chivalrous and I think I could see myself dating this boy for a while. But I’m just not <i>sure</i> that I want to sleep with him.<br /><br />Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe it means I’m maturing and being a little afraid of that step is okay. I don’t want to write this guy off as friend material just yet because we do really click. He also does sweet things like call me on his lunch break just to say hi and tell me what a good time he had hanging out with me. For once, I’ve found a boy who wants to be someone’s boyfriend. I just wonder if I want to be his girlfriend…Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1133300420457932022005-11-29T16:40:00.000-08:002005-11-29T13:40:20.466-08:00My fuck buddy (cute boy) is coming to town next week and staying at my place for a week. See after he graduated he moved to Seattle and I haven’t seen him in ages. Normally, I’d be thrilled for such an occasion and, don’t get me wrong, I still am. But I do have the slightest bit of apprehension. <br /><br />Let me backtrack for a minute. David, the lawyer from Jdate, essentially dumped me after standing me up for our sex date. Whatever, I’m over it. <br /><br />On Sunday, I had a Starbucks date with a boy that I’ve been talking to over Jdate for a little while. He’s adorable, born in South Africa, moved to Canada when he was 8 and wants to be Quinton Tarantino. I’m going to call him Tarantiny cause he’s kinda little and I think that’s cute. Now this boy is pretty great. Very funny, nervous but in a good way, creative, lives in Manhattan, wears chucks and says “soorey” in the most adorable accent ever. He even came to my show last night and carried my guitar. He’s not a bad kisser either.<br /><br />Here’s the issue. I like this boy, he’s sweet, nice…but I don’t owe him anything. I don’t care that I will be definitely sleeping with my fuck buddy when he’s in town, while attempting to maintain that first few weeks relationship with Tarantiny. What I am concerned with the is the fact that I am about to see this boy for the third time in a week tonight and I think he’ll be a little concerned when I can’t see him at all next week. I can’t just drop off the face of the earth? How will I ever juggle this?<br /><br />Such a hard life for me huh?Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1132328785931083532005-11-18T09:46:00.000-08:002005-11-18T07:46:25.946-08:00David is a very good lawyer.<br /><br />David is such a good lawyer that, last week, he managed to coax the URL of this blog out of me. How did he do it you ask? Well, I’m not exactly sure. It took hours of bargaining and deliberating but eventually, with a sophisticated wink and a nod (10 points if you know who said that other than David’s drunk moot court partner), I just did it, I let him have it. Pete says it’s like giving away my virginity…except worse.<br /><br />He read the entry I wrote about him while we were still on the phone and he laughed. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was worried he might be offended by the whole jdate picture thing, but he thought it was pretty funny. This prompted a whole discussion about jdate pictures.<br /><br />Anyway before I actually gave him the blog I told him that there was nothing in it that, if he asked, I wouldn’t tell him. So I told him about the threesome, I told him about the last person I slept with (now every time I mention “my coworker” he rolls his eyes a little bit), I told him about Older Navy. I didn’t want him to find these things out from the blog and I repeated that over and over again. I mean, isn’t it better that he find out from me rather than from reading my very public diary?<br /><br />He read a few more pages and said “you know, it’s probably better if I don’t read this anymore.” I agreed but knew that he would probably come back to it later.<br /><br />This got me to thinking about my sexual past. That night, I made a list of all my previous partners. No, I am not going to reveal this number here on the blog (remember, the new guy I’m seeing who I actually like, may be reading this) but let’s just say it gave me a bit of a wake up call. I wouldn’t say that I’m slutty (some of you may) but I would say that I haven’t been as selective as maybe I should be. I know I’m a bit of an affection whore and I often confuse physical intimacy with love. <br /><br />I never thought I’d be one of those girls. Anyway as I made this list I thought, a lot of this history is in the blog, David is going to read it and think I’m a whore, or nuts or whatever. But then I asked myself, is my sexual past what defines me?<br /><br />Just because I happened to date the Lorax and Asheville and Older Navy, does that mean I will always date hippies? Because I slept with a few guys on the first date, does that mean I always will? See, I don’t think I’ve established a real pattern here in the blog, at least not one that will really let you know who I am. Sex does not define me. Past relationships and heartbreaks do not define me. I know they play a role in molding a person into what she is but they are not the whole picture. <br /><br />This is why, reluctantly I decided to let David read the blog. If he reads it, gets scared off and leaves me, well then he’s an idiot. Because he misses out on a chance to get to know the real me, not the NotIntoYou character that is played out in these virtual pages.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1132156092606996172005-11-16T10:30:00.001-08:002005-11-16T07:48:12.620-08:00an apology<br /><br />to everyone who read my blog yesterday, I apologize for being such a nutcase. I know you all rolled your eyes and thought, "this girl is genuinely losing it." I am sorry for subjecting you to that.<br /><br />I prefer to keep the details of my date with David last night under wraps because for once in my life, I feel as if it is private. I will give you a brief outline of the events.<br /><br />He IMed me in the afternoon, I asked him if we wanted to have dinner.<br />We met at 7:30 at a really nice Italian place on the East Side.<br />We had dinner and wine and lots of good conversation.<br />After dinner we walked around the block a few times and made out on the corner of 52nd and Park.<br />he went back to work, I walked home and could not stop smiling.<br />Apparently, I slept through his phone call and text message last night.<br /><br />For now, that's all I can reveal. It was great, I'm still smiling. I am also learning to chill the fuck out.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1132156092264397262005-11-16T10:30:00.000-08:002005-11-16T07:48:12.273-08:00an apology<br /><br />to everyone who read my blog yesterday, I apologize for being such a nutcase. I know you all rolled your eyes and thought, "this girl is genuinely losing it." I am sorry for subjecting you to that.<br /><br />I prefer to keep the details of my date with David last night under wraps because for once in my life, I feel as if it is private. I will give you a brief outline of the events.<br /><br />He IMed me in the afternoon, I asked him if we wanted to have dinner.<br />We met at 7:30 at a really nice Italian place on the East Side.<br />We had dinner and wine and lots of good conversation.<br />After dinner we walked around the block a few times and made out on the corner of 52nd and Park.<br />he went back to work, I walked home and could not stop smiling.<br />Apparently, I slept through his phone call and text message last night.<br /><br />For now, that's all I can reveal. It was great, I'm still smiling. I am also learning to chill the fuck out.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1132065002510793282005-11-15T09:19:00.000-08:002005-11-15T08:44:46.036-08:00I wish I were the kind of girl who needed space. Why can't I be that girl? Didn't I break up with my college boyfriend because I needed some space? What happened to that girl? She was so cool, so in control.<br /><br />I am a raving lunatic and I don't get it. I make scaring boys away a high art form. The funny thing is, I'm not even sure I've scared him away. But I can guarantee that if I keep up this behavior, I will scare him away. He will be heading for the hills.<br /><br />What am I doing that is so bad you ask? Well, I'm not really sure but I just feel that it's bad. For instance, I drop him off at his place on Sunday night, drive to Brooklyn to drop off the car and then text message him. He texts back, I text back. That's the end.<br /><br />Yesterday, fully knowing that he is busy as shit, I try not to bug him. I drop him a quick email in the early afternoon giving him a link to a song I recorded. A few hours later he gets on IM just to tell me that he's busy, he listened to the song and really liked it. I asked him if he wanted to come over and watch Grey's Anatomy with me but he said he already watched it Sunday night.<br /><br />Later in the night we were both working late. I texted him to see if he was still working. He texts back to tell me he is. I text him back to tell him I need a hug...nothing.<br /><br />He calls around 9 when I get home. He's still at work but about the head out. We joke about both needing a hug, he tells me he'll call later. He doesn't. <br /><br />Before I go to bed I text him to tell him I'm going to bed hug-less...nothing. An hour later when I can't get to sleep I call him to tell him so...nothing.<br /><br />This behavior has to stop and it has to stop now. No more calls, no more texts, no more emails. If he wants to talk to me, he will. If he doesn't then that fucking sucks. But I can't keep digging myself into this hole. I just need to learn to love my space.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1131944278602667362005-11-13T23:57:00.000-08:002005-11-14T05:53:33.870-08:00I realize that every new relationship is more exciting, more interesting and more functional than the last. I have come to this very important conclusion. This is why I refuse to state any of these things about my new “relationship” with David.<br /><br />Things have rapidly progressed with David and I due to our “second date.” I put this in quotes because our sophomore meeting was rather unusual. Dinner and a movie? No. Skating in Bryant Park? No. Theatre? No, none of these things could compare to our second date. It consisted of the usual elements you might find on any normal second date. Good conversation, a meal and some smooching. The thing that made our date odd was that it all took place during a 6 hour drive from DC to New York.<br /><br />As some of you know I was in DC this weekend “dropping tracks in the studio” as my coworker (let’s not even touch that one) would say. By some strange coincidence (fate?) David was also in DC this weekend having a boys weekend with his friend from college. It was one of those weekends where the affianced friend’s fiancé is out of town and the boys simply drink themselves stupid until one of them eventually drunk texts the new girl he’s seeing at 4 in the morning that he’s “thinking about her.”<br /><br />Anyway, when David brought to my attention that he was going to be in my “old stomping grounds” this past weekend I told him how odd it was that I was going to be there as well. This is when the plotting began. David had already bought round trip bus tickets (who does that?) which were non-refundable. I was driving Laura’s car. Though I offered to drive him down with me Friday afternoon, he declined saying that he felt bad about wasting the bus fare. But by Saturday (almost 3 whole days of not seeing each other) he decided that the wasted bus fare would have to be okay and he would drive back with me on Sunday. <br /><br />I was thrilled. Not that I couldn’t have made the drive alone, but I did honestly want to see him and it’s always nice to have someone to talk to in the car. So this morning I call him around 11:45, fully aware that he may in fact, still be drunk or at least hung over. A very groggy David picks up the phone and seems to perk up when he hears me say hello. He tells me that he has to wake up, become human and call me back. Which he does about an hour later. We make plans for his friend to drive him over to my house in the afternoon and we would leave from there.<br /><br />This means that he got to meet my parents. I’m not sure he was prepared for this event. I mean, it wasn’t event. I tried very hard to have my looming parents pushed into the background and keep their initial meeting short. I mean, I’ve known this boy for all of 5 days at this point. So they exchange a few pleasant words, we get in the car and go.<br /><br /><img src="http://www.imjustnotthatintoyou.com/milage.jpg" align="left">About an hour into the car ride he notices that the odometer is about to hit 100,000 miles. He mentions that he heard somewhere that you’re supposed to kiss the person you’re driving with when you hit that landmark. I agree that this sounds like an excellent idea. So when we hit 100,000 miles I pull over to the side of the road, we both unbuckle our seatbelts and start kissing. It was pretty great. In fact, I think I got a little light headed. I certainly got flustered, which is totally weird because I saw it coming. Anyway, we took a picture of the odometer for Laura and we continued on our journey. In the whole six hours I would say collectively there was about 15 minutes of silence. He found out way too much about me, I laughed at most all of his jokes and he threatened to take me to Philly to meet his parents.<br /><br />So we got back into the city and he helped me take my shit up to my apartment. I showed him around and then we got right back into the car. I took him to his place, we kissed and said goodnight. Then I shlepped the car back to Brooklyn, got on the train and came back here to write about the day.<br /><br />The problem is, I’m not really sure where to go from here. This was our second date and it had all of the intimacy of a couple dating for years. There is something very familiar, very comforting about this boy. He really is that nice, Jewish boy that your mother dreams you’ll meet when she signs you up for Jdate. And I do really really like him. I just worry that this is all becoming too familiar, too fast. I mean, where are my limits? Where are my boundaries? Aren’t I supposed to have that period when I turn into a raving lunatic and constantly evaluate how often I’m allowed to call him? What about that oh-so-lovely time when I ignore him just for the sake of having him miss me? Where are the games? I haven’t had a chance to play them and frankly, I’m tickled pink. But I’m completely freaked out at the same time. I wonder if this is one of those too good to be true things where at any moment he’s going to turn it around and be like “this is all going to fast, you like me more than I like you, I’m going to go back to my ex, I just need some time…” there are so many to choose from.<br /><br />I find this so amusing. I’m freaking out because I haven’t really been given a reason to freak out. And you know what? Frankly, this behavior scares the shit out of me.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1131598152943619352005-11-09T23:48:00.000-08:002005-11-10T21:18:32.870-08:00I was going to write about masturbation tonight but I have something else to write about…<br /><br />My night is why jdate works and also why most of the time, jdate doesn’t work. I’ve been chatting away with a boy for a few days. His name, is not David but it sort of is David. This is odd because I have dated many a David in my life. So we’re just gonna call him, David. So David’s picture on jdate is…eh. He’s definitely not ugly, and he IS cute but not fall all over yourself cute. He’s a’ight. <br /><br />But he’s fucking hilarious! Several times throughout the day, I laughed out loud and drew much attention to myself (yes, I was kinda hoping that my coworker would ask what I was laughing at, but sadly he did not). But enough about him, let’s talk about me…and David.<br /><br />So anyway David and I are literally talking all day long over IM. So I suggest that we meet up for a drink before Hebrew school. We meet up near his office at a cute little midtown east yuppie bar. It’s fine. From the moment we sit down he has me in stitches. I’m still a little bit sick so I laughed so hard that I started coughing. He told me to stop coughing because he doesn’t like his dates to die on a first date.<br /><br />At one point I had a large piece of lime pulp hanging from my lip which he did not tell me about. But he explained that now that I’ve embarrassed myself like that, he gets a freebie. Like he could get spaghetti sauce on his shirt or button it wrong and he now has a “get out of jail free” card. It was cute, charming without trying to be charming.<br /><br />At 8, which is when my class started, we both nervously looked at our watches. He really needed to get back to work and I really needed to get to class. So he paid the bill and we strolled out of the bar. He caught me a cab, kissed me and we said goodnight.<br /><br />I went to class and when I left I text messaged him to see if he was still at work. He wasn’t but we texted back and forth my whole walk home. Then when I got home we had some IM time. Then he went to bed.<br /><br />So here’s the thing. I had a great time with this boy. He’s awesome. The way he looked at me was like someone looking at a ray of sunshine…he was the right kind of nervous, right kind of funny right kind of smart…it was just right. The problem is that the moment I saw him I was like “eh, doesn't look like his picture...” and I can't decide whether I'm instantly attracted.<br /><br />Now most jdate girls would keep this in mind and really not give this boy the time of day. But honestly, I’m not like most jdate girls. At least, I like to think I’m not. So I give him the time of day and he makes me laugh my ass off. And we click and it’s good. But I know for a fact that many of my girlfriends who are jdaters would probably brush this guy off…they probably wouldn’t go out with him in the first place. This is why jdate happened to work for me today but usually doesn’t work at all. We are all shallow even when we think we aren’t. I just happen to like dating so I went out with this boy who initially I wasn’t that attracted to. By the end of the date I was waiting, hoping for that kiss more than anything.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1131396961929527502005-11-07T15:55:00.000-08:002005-11-07T12:56:01.943-08:00I have a date tonight and I couldn’t be less thrilled.<br /><br />That’s totally not fair, I could totally be less thrilled. Anyway tonight is my first (official) JDate. I had one pseudo JDate last week but it was in a group when a bunch of us went to the Daily Show. He and I decided it “wouldn’t be a date” and we would pretend like we had known each other for years.<br /><br />Anyway so I‘m feeling kinda depressed. Not sure what it is. I’ve been sick for the past week, I just can’t seem to shake this fucking cough and I slipped a disc in my back while coughing this weekend. So that could be it. It also could be that my insurance didn’t cover the chiropractor today and I had to shell out 220 bucks just for the one visit. It could be that my coworker gave me the most awkward smile ever. It could be that I didn’t sleep very well last night. It could be a lot of things. All I know is that I feel blah.<br /><br />So he just called. He’s a nice Jewish boy from Maryland if you can believe it. We went to high school fairly close to each other, but he’s a few years older. So he works as an animator for the new Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles. How cool is that? So he shall be dubbed the Ninja Turtle hence forth…assuming I’ll have anything to write about him. I mean, judging from his picture he’s kinda…average. Seems very witty over email but everyone does these days. Email has become the new medium for the get to know you stuff and people are becoming quite good at it. Anyway, we’re meeting for a drink in Chelsea which is kinda weird because he lives in Chinatown, I live in Hell’s Kitchen and we both work in midtown. But he picked it. I’m sure he asked a bunch of his friends where the place to go would be and they all said this place. I’m sure it’ll be fine.<br /><br />So in other news, Older Navy called me last night. He was feeling down about his sister (fuck, I didn’t tell you guys that his sister passed away a few weeks ago) and he needed some comfort. Whenever he calls he doesn’t want to talk about his feelings, his sister, his family. He only wants to talk about me. More specifically, the things he’d like to do to me if I were with him. This makes me uncomfortable on a bunch of different levels. One, we should be talking about what’s going on in his head, not masking it with sex talk. Two, he and I are not together anymore and I worry that this flirty talk is an indication that he would like to get back together. Third, I kinda like it. I mean, it’s great to get that kind of attention from someone who (without all the bullshit) generally makes you feel good. I mean, he and I were GREAT in the sack together. That was one place we never had any problems. We were also good at the phone sex/flirting thing. He’s so open and free and he made me that way as well. But the thing is, I’ve slept with 3 people since the last time I was with him and I think I feel guilty, feel like I cheated on him if we continue to phone flirt. But then I have to take a step back and realize that he is grieving and as long as this doesn’t lead to anything more permanent, I am happy to help him get through this unbelievably difficult time in his life.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1131237451475869392005-11-05T16:21:00.000-08:002005-11-05T16:44:32.426-08:00I'm Just Not That Into You: <em>A Retrospective</em><br /><br />So I've been thinking for the past few days about my 1 year anniversary which happens to be today. In order to prep myself for this occasion I went back, took every entry I've written and put it into a word document. I read all 133 pages while at work on Friday. For the most part, I laughed my ass off. I wrote some really funny shit that I will share with you in a bit.<br /><br />I also almost broke down in tears a few times. I am amazed at how many men, how many dates, how many failures are captured here in this blog. Now I could very well shut down at this point. I could say there is no use in going on, you are a creature of habit and you will never break these bad relationship problems. Let's face it, the problem (as much as I'd like to blame others) is me. I fall into the same patterns of falling flat on my face for someone and then getting trampled on in the process. I allow this shit to happen to myself. And I can and will say that I amm going to try my hardest to change. But that doesn't mean I will. I suppose just being aware of the problem is a good first step but it never really does anything. I don't deny that the problem is me. And after reading my life for the past year I haven't the foggiest idea how to fix things. I just know that I can't give up now. There has to be something better around the bend,. There has to be a guy out there who will love me not only in spite of my flaws but because of them (thank you Kissing Jessica Stein).<br /><br />Anyway, let's stay focused, positive. This is a huge milestone for me. The only other things that I've been able to keep up past a year are music and 2 boyfriends. I'm pretty psyched about this. I have something, that's mine, that other people enjoy on a regular basis (and we're not even talking about sex here). This is good and I feel great that I have been able to keep this <br />thing moving along.<br /><br /><img src="http://storetn.cafepress.com/nocache/3/36586133_F_store.jpg" align="left">So I thought long and hard about what to do for a 1-year extravaganza! Pete suggested I do a statistical analysis but that's not really my thing. Maybe he can do it for me :). No, I went with something a little bit more...creative. I opened a <a href="http://www.cafepress.com/notintoyou" target="_blank">store</a>! The <a href="http://www.cafepress.com/notintoyou" target="_blank">all new I'm Just Not That Into shop</a>. Here you can buy all your favorite t-shirts, buttons, postcards and yes, even underwear. I'm not making a dime on any of this stuff so don't sweat it, I don't want to swindle you out of your money. But it if you want it it's totally out there and yours for the taking. There's also the new design (which I hope you all like) and you can always check out the <a href="http://www.myspace.com/notintoyou" target="_blank">myspace profile</a> (<a href="http://www.myspace.com/notintoyou" target="_blank">http://www.myspace.com/notintoyou</a>).<br /><br />Okay so now on to the fun part. NotIntoYou's best of collection!<br /><strong><br />November 9, 2004</strong><br />Now I know many of us still live in young 20's land where we all have roommates who we pretend don't know that we're having sex. I hate to break it to you, they know. And frankly, they don't care. Maybe they're even a little proud of you. <br />So don't worry about them. If you're keeping them up with your sex noises just think that there are far worse things they could be listening to. My roommate, for instance listens to the ding of the elevator all night...at least we have an elevator. Anyone ever had sex in an elevator? How did you forget about the cameras?<br /><strong><br />November 11, 2004</strong><br />There is nothing like watching a weird ass movie to make you miss a weird ass person.<br /><strong><br />November 28, 2004</strong><br />What's funnier than a bunch of drunken Irish guys on a New York City Subway?<br />That's right, absolutely nothing.<br /><strong><br><br />December 16, 2004</strong><br />I am not a game player. Someone forgot to teach me the rules.<br /><strong><br />December 25, 2004</strong><br />"I had a sex dream about you last night"<br />now tell me, is this an appropriate response to a text message that says "merry Christmas?"<br /><strong><br />January 20, 2005</strong><br />At what point in a relationship is it appropriate to play the "I'm sometimes a lesbian" card?<br /><strong><br />February 23, 2005</strong><br />Now as you all know, I'm a drama queen. If I walk out on someone that I genuinely care about, it's probably just to prove a point. Essentially, I'm bluffing and want him to chase after me. There are very few times when I walk out on someone with the intention of coming back to them. Usually it's "chase after me dumbass" or "I really am leaving you so don't <br />try to call me."<br /><strong><br />March 3, 2005</strong><br />I'm going to the prom.<br /><strong><br />March 8, 2005</strong><br />I prefer not to think about him as the boy who was doing Coke that very very dark night in Williamsburg. I like to think of him as the boy with the sexy voice who sang to me in Portuguese. He's also the boy who asked me out last night.<br /><strong><br />April 16, 2005</strong><br />My best friend and I broke up with our respective beaus about the same time. They were both weird and distant and horrible for us and we fucking loved every minute of it. Although I have to admit that her guy was a) in New York and b) better suited for her and c) not a complete nut case we had equally devastating breakups.<br /><strong><br />April 20, 2005</strong><br />It's Asheville's birthday...yes, he's born on 4:20, how appropriate. Normally I would struggle with whether to call, email, text him a little happy birthday wish, but it's surprisingly easy. He was such an asshole that I hope he's having a miserable birthday. I hope he's sitting there thinking "fuck, it's my birthday, I'm 26 years old, and I'm alone." That's right buddy, you're alone. I'm alone too but I feel okay about that cause I had sex last weekend<br /><strong><br />May 11, 2005</strong><br />It's not that he doesn't keep me engaged on the phone. He totally does. It's just as much as I like hearing about how he wants to kiss the back of my neck, I'd rather he be here and fucking kissing the back of my neck. <br /><strong><br />May 25, 2005</strong><br />For me, I use it as a flirting tool. It inevitably comes up in date conversation. "So, other than music and work, what else do you do?" And if I'm feeling saucy I mention that I write a blog. When they ask to read it I tell them "if you ever want to go out with me again, you can't have the URL. If you don't want to go out with me again, I'll write it down for you right now." Damn, I'm ballsy. Without fail they don't ask for the URL. That doesn't mean that we ever see each other again, it just means that I managed to tell them I write a blog, get them all hot and bothered about it and still not let them know that I'm writing the blog entry in my mind as we're on the date.<br /><strong><br />June 1, 2005</strong><br />At one point I stopped him, grabbed him by the face and looked him right in eye. I said to him "I am so excited to get to know you and I am really glad we get to talk and get to know each other this weekend but right now, all I want to do is get naked."<br /><strong><br />June 6, 2005</strong><br />It's funny, as much as I appreciate my friend's advice, I hardly ever take it.<br /><strong><br />June 28, 2005</strong><br />Here's to being spontaneous, I just wish he'd fucking call first...<br /><strong><br />August 8, 2005</strong><br />He's cute, tall, sideburns, soul patch (okay it's cheesy but he makes it work). Apparently (I don't remember this) I asked him if he'd sleep with me. Not like "will you sleep with me right now" more like "you would sleep with me right?"<br /><strong><br />August 13, 2005</strong><br />So after he kissed me I walked away thinking "it isn't the hair that made me not really feel anything is it?" I don't think it was, at least, I hope it's not. I'm not THAT shallow am I?<br /><strong><br />August 14, 2005</strong><br />So close to not being an asshole, but still, an asshole none the less.<br /><strong><br />September 5, 2005</strong><br />Fucking North Carolina! I shit you not! North fucking Carolina!<br /><strong><br />September 12, 2005</strong><br />Nice guys ... still assholes.<br /><strong><br />September 29, 2005</strong><br />In my Hebrew school class (that's right, I'm 12 years old, awkward, pimpled and hormones raging while picking out my fabulous Bat Mitzvah dress) there are about 15 kids. 14 of which are Jewish. Now for some reason the 1 non-Jew in the class decides to ask me out. I don't get it. Do I have Jew-Off sprayed all over me? Do I have a sign around my neck that says "if you're a goy, I want YOU"?<br /><strong><br />September 30, 2005</strong><br />The voice mail was weird. It was a kind of drunken roar...I'm not kidding, the man rolled his tongue and gave me a cat-like purr or roar.<br /><strong><br />October 14, 2005</strong><br />This could have something to do with it...the boy is, well, a bit of a humper. Okay, that's a major understatement. He is a constant humper. Like constantly in motion ... when we're kissing, when we're hugging, when we're cooking, when we're in public...okay that's over the top. But seriously, he's like a monkey in heat.<br /><strong><br />October 25, 2005</strong><br />Okay, it's official, I hate myself. Yesterday, because my mother gave me the money to do so, I joined JDate. For those of you not familiar with the dating site, it is (as Jaxthatgurl put it) a kosher meat market. <br /><strong><br />October 30, 2005</strong><br />I came back and we had sex for literally hours. I am so fucking tired I can't even begin to explain and frankly, I'm having a lot of problems walking today. At one point in the night I said to him "You really want me to never walk again don't you?" and he replied "nah, just tomorrow."<br /><strong><br />October 31, 2005</strong><br />You know what the best part about sleeping with a coworker is? You get to do not one, but two walks of shame. Well in my case, I get to strut down that catwalk about 7 or 8 times a day because I have to pass his desk to get to the bathroom <br />(which I do frequently). <br /><br />So that's it. Did I miss any? I'm sure I did, but it's enough to fill an entry.<br /><br />I want to take a moment to thank all of you who read this thing. You are beautiful, brave people. I am so pleased that you can laugh at my inevitable decline. I love you all.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1130900328850730612005-11-01T21:58:00.000-08:002005-11-01T18:58:48.863-08:00Not only did he get me sick, he didn’t come to work today.<br /><br />So with this blog nearing it’s anniversary it seems only appropriate that I explain yet another failed attempt at a relationship.<br /><br />Yes, the inevitable snub happened sometime late this afternoon. He told me that what happened on Saturday was fun, yet a drunken mistake that all of his friends have told him should not happen again as long as he and I are working together. It’s the right thing to do and I agree with him.<br /><br />What I don’t agree with is the excuse: alcohol. There is only so much (in my opinion) false sense of right and wrong that alcohol will give you. I mean, the emotions have to be there, alcohol just gives you that last push right? But he stands by it. When I called him on that, all he said was that he had to be drunk to hook up with a coworker. Ouch! But what he also implied was that he would not have to be drunk to hook up with me if I weren’t his coworker. Basically, when he or I get another job, we can shag like bunnies. But until that time comes, it’s hands off buddy!<br /><br />So I guess I feel better. I know that he still wants me. And it really is the best decision not to try to date behind everyone’s back. I hope he and I can still remain the flirty friends we’ve always been so that one day (okay THE day) one of us leaves we will hop into bed. As I told him, until that day comes, I guess there’s always Jdate.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1130817513137371862005-10-31T22:58:00.000-08:002005-10-31T19:58:33.150-08:00Then you wake up in the morning after…<br /><br />You know what the best part about sleeping with a coworker is? You get to do not one, but two walks of shame. Well in my case, I get to strut down that catwalk about 7 or 8 times a day because I have to pass his desk to get to the bathroom (which I do frequently).<br /><br />My first walk of shame was Sunday morning. As I got off the C train and started walking towards my apartment I hear someone call out “NotIntoYou?” I turn to see my roommate doing a similar strut home. Way to go roomie!<br /><br />The rest of the day wasn’t particularly interesting, went to Jersey to visit Nana, texted back and forth with my coworker, fell asleep way early…<br /><br />Which brings us to this morning. I got up early, went to the gym and attempted to not think about the day that lay ahead. I was so nervous that I was going to say or so something to fuck this up. I got to work and he wasn’t there. I’m usually there a good hour or 2 before he gets there. I start to work. Around 9:45 he walks in, hands me my glove that I had left at his place, we both blush and I say thanks.<br /><br />And that was pretty much it. No acknowledgement of what had happened, no private jokes, no IM where he tells me that I look so hot today (totally true) that he can’t concentrate on work. To be fair we did say we would keep this out of work. I think that is really the best thing to do. But the girly girl in me desperately wants to know what’s up. Does he ever want to see me again or was this a one night, drunken thing?<br /><br />Around 3pm there was a minor panic in the office. A project was thrown at us (me) and we were given about 3 minutes to do it in. He’s explaining to me what I need to do (he’s not my boss, but sometimes it feels that way) and I tell him okay. When I sit down he continues to bark commands at me. I smile and take a deep breath (I really want to smack him) and say “no problem!” It gets quiet for a minute. I IM him and say “see, I told you I would continue to roll my eyes at you.” He laughed, looked across our cubical wall and said “did you really say that?” I was taken a bit aback. How could he not remember every little word I said to him! How dare he! Anyway we got the project done, quickly and without another word about our affair.<br /><br />Around 7pm he had still not said a word to me about when we might be able to a) talk or b) get naked again. I know it’s work and we can’t talk about it, but I was kinda hoping to be able to see him this week before he goes on a business trip on Wednesday. But he had to go to the hockey game. So he packed up his things and turned to me and said goodnight. He smiled and gave me the half stare/gaze he always gave me and said “you can expense dinner if you want…” I think that’s his little way of saying “I love you.” And then he left. And that was it.<br /><br />So I sat there, thinking of clever things to text message him. Here are my favs so far:<br />1. Thanks for bringing back my glove<br />2. Okay, we’re not at work anymore, can I flirt with/kiss/fuck you now?<br />3. I look way too hot today to stay in, wanna get a drink after the game?<br />4. Things “Coworker” should have said to “NotIntoYou” today, ‘good job on that project’ ‘ you look really hot today’ ‘I’m having a hard time concentrating today because I can only picture you naked…’<br />5. Congrats! We made it through our first day of awkward denial!<br /><br />Anyway, I restrained myself and have not sent him a text. Laura says (and she’s right) that I should probably just wait and see if he brings anything up. Let’s see if he invites me out, let’s see if he text messages me, let’s see… Right now, though, I’m kinda losing my mind. I keep wanting to text message him or call or email or something. But the thing is, what would that accomplish. He knows I exist, he knows I’m thinking about him, he knows I’m waiting for some kind of sign. He has to know. I refuse to believe that guys are that stupid. The fact is, he’s probably just as freaked as I am and doesn’t want to fuck it up either…at least that’s what I hope.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1130727878256438802005-10-30T22:04:00.000-08:002005-10-30T19:07:59.596-08:00My mom told me not to fuck this one up…okay, she didn’t use those words exactly, and she doesn’t know the whole story…but she basically told me not to fuck this one up.<br /><br />Anyway, Saturday night was one of the biggest party night of the year, especially in Manhattan. My coworker (the one I’ve had a crush on for a long long long time…no not the one from my old job, the one from MTV) invited me to a party.<br /><br />Saturday evening I squeezed myself into a 34A bright pink bra, size 4 black corset, jeans, gold pumps and a black wig and labeled myself Ashlee Simpson, circa 2004. It worked. Isn’t Halloween just an excuse for us girls to dress all slutty anyway? So I made my way downtown to see a show and then neatly arrive at the party an hour after I was told to arrive. Unfortunately, I still arrived before my coworker. I managed to mingle and my bra peaking out from under my corset was definitely getting attention.<br /><br />My coworker and his roommates showed up and we started dragging me around, introducing me to his friends. Once he did that, he kinda did his own thing for a while. I’m a big girl, I talked to other people. AS the night progressed he and I started talking more and more and closer and closer. Yes, he was a bit drunk but you can’t blame the fact that our faces were centimeters away from each other purely on alcohol. When the party wound down, we all headed to a bar a few blocks away. I walked to the bar with a friend of my coworker’s, who clearly wanted to get under my little pink bra. He kissed me on the corner of the street near the bar and asked if I wanted to get out of there. I told him no. Partly because I wanted to see if I could get with my coworker and partly because, I really didn’t want to go. I wanted to see where this night was going. I was having a really good time.<br /><br />So we get to the bar and I kinda ditched my coworker’s friend. I crammed myself next to my coworker on the dance floor and we resumed our close talking. I’m not quite sure when it happened, but all of a sudden, we were kissing. He stopped and said to me “NotIntoYou, we work together! Is this going to be weird?” I thought about it for a while, but the fact is, neither of us can really answer that question. Yes, it may be weird down the line, or it may be great. Right now, all I wanted to do was kiss him. And clearly, that is what he wanted to do because without waiting for a reply, he kissed me more. I noticed his friend leave the bar.<br /><br />Later in the night when we came up for air he asked if (since we were clearly going home together) we could attempt to keep our hands off of each other long enough so we could socialize with his friends. So we did that, and they were awesome. He’s from Canada and a lot of his friends went to McGill with him. I love Canadians!<br /><br />Eventually he and I left the bar. I’m fairly sober as I usually am in these kinds of situations. He’s a little bit tipsy but clearly knows what he’s doing and the gravity of the situation. So we walk hand in hand back to his apartment. We’re giggling and talking about the potential awkwardness this will spawn. Yet, we’re still stopping every few feet to suck face and pull each other in close. He says to me “will this be weird Monday morning? What should we do?” And I said to him “I think we pretend during the day that this didn’t happen.” He nodded and kissed me and opened the door to his apartment.<br /><br />Quick back story. I met this boy over a year ago when I interviewed for this job at MTV. I ended up turning it down for a variety of reasons, but I never forgot that adorable Jewish boy who would have been my coworker. When I came back, a year later I was surprised and delighted to see the same boy at the desk next to mine. Over the past few months he and I have been working long hours and even weekends together, attempting to get a big project done. We’ve become close in that time, sending each other private jokes and developing a mutual love of Kelly Clarkson. We’ve been to synagogue together, hockey games and shared a lot of dinners. When I had a show he came and I dedicated a cover of Since U Been Gone to him. Basically, we’re developing what looks like either a budding romance or a hard core friendship. Judging by his hand on my breast, I’m voting for romance.<br /><br />Anyway back to his apartment. We get to his room and he immediately starts taking his and my clothes off. I got a little bit dizzy at this point. It’s hitting me that this boy, who I’ve had a huge crush on for a year is all there, ready to get me naked and throw me down on the bed. This is when reality hits me yet again. I have my period and therefore am not really into getting naked with this boy. I shake him back into reality by saying “listen, I can’t have sex with you tonight.” He says enthusiastically, “that’s fine!” and I interject with “it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just…” “timing?” he interrupts. I said yes and he said “that’s okay” and continues to take my clothes off.<br /><br />As we’re rolling around it occurs to me that neither he nor I care that I’m somewhat incapacitated. So I ask him where the bathroom is and tell him that “when I come back, I plan on fucking your brains out.” I swear, I said that to him. He breathed out heavy, fell back on the bed and told me to come back quick.<br /><br />I came back and we had sex for literally hours. I am so fucking tired I can’t even begin to explain and frankly, I’m having a lot of problems walking today. At one point in the night I said to him “You really want me to never walk again don’t you?” and he replied “nah, just tomorrow.”<br /><br />During one of our breathers he asked me “did you ever think we would be doing this tonight? Did you ever think we’d be having this much sex? All night?” I smiled and said that I honestly did not but I’m glad I was there. I also told him that this was good, but it doesn’t hold a candle to my “push him over onto his desk” fantasy. His eyes widened when he asked “you have that fantasy?” I grinned and told him I did. He grinned right back and said “I think we’re going to have to work late on Monday.”<br /><br />Eventually (I think around 6am) we fell asleep. When we woke up in the morning we had sex again. Eventually I left his apartment into the beautiful sunshine. I sent him a text message saying that it was a beautiful day outside.<br /><br />I was worried when I didn’t hear back from him but around 2 we started a text message conversation that went like this:<br />Coworker: So nice out! I need to detox<br />NotIntoYou: Nana says hi, how was hockey?<br />Coworker: great! We won!<br />NotIntoYou: I’m so proud, and hungover too! I am really having a difficult time walking J Also I left a glove at your place<br />Coworker: Ha ha ha sorry J I’ll look 4 the glove<br />NotIntoYou: Really, it’s okay J<br /><br />So I think that’s a good conversation. Playful, flirty, casual. I really like this boy and the last thing I need to do is let him know….although he totally knows. Dear lord let me keep this up and not fuck it up!Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1130248020684790222005-10-25T09:46:00.000-07:002005-10-25T06:47:00.693-07:00Okay, it’s official, I hate myself. Yesterday, because my mother gave me the money to do so, I joined JDate.<br /><br />For those of you not familiar with the dating site, it is (as Jaxthatgurl put it) <i>a kosher meat market.</i><br /><br />What prompted this decision is the weekend I just had…<br /><br />Friday night I went to see my fuck buddy’s show. I hadn’t seen him in a year and I had been promising that I would come see him play for months now. I finally decided that Friday was the night. I get to the club and it’s packed (his band was opening for Whetus…who sucks I might add). I can’t find him and I don’t know anyone there so I make a b-line for the bar. I’m standing at the bar and out of the corner of my eye I see that I long-haired guy is looking at me. I turn to see my fuck buddy who’s hair has quadrupled in length since the last time I saw him is standing right next to me at the bar. We hug and stare. He can’t believe I actually showed up to see him play. He buys me a beer, grabs my hand and drags me to meet his band mates. I said hello to everyone, met some more friends and then when he had to get set up, was stuck talking awkwardly to his former neighbors. They were super nice people but I had very little to talk to them about.<br /><br />Once the show started I sat close to the stage and made faces at my fuck buddy. He was adorable but the band was having a bit of a rough time. The sound was kinda shitty and they clearly could not hear…oh, and they were all drunk. My eyes wandered around the room, checking out the crowd when I noticed that I, myself was being checked out. This cute, long-islandish kid was giving me the eye and I somehow managed to subtley sit next to him. We started chatting and he asked me for my number. When my fuck buddy’s band got off the stage I told him I had to go talk to the band. He kissed me on the cheek and told me he would definitely give me a call…haven’t heard from him.<br /><br />So after the show my fuck buddy is distraught. He’s upset that the show was so shitty. I reassured him that the audience (the people who weren’t musicians) had no idea that they had a bad show. This made him feel a bit better. We keep talking and I say to him “so listen, you have to come to my place tonight, I’m not going to Queens. I have to be in Brooklyn in the morning to pick up my friend’s car.” He looked at me and with a sly smile he said “I moved to Brooklyn, you’re coming home with me.” So I lost that battle. <br /><br />He and I have slept together maybe 6 times. He has NEVER been to my place, no matter where I live. I think because he’s older (30 in a month) he feels like his place is better…it’s not.<br /><br />Anyway he asks me what my plan is for the rest of the night. I told him I had a birthday party to go to. He says “are you still planning on going?” I look at him and say, “no, I’m going to go to your place and have sex with you.” He is loving my straight forward nature.<br /><br />So we go back to Brooklyn, take a shower together (which was definitely one of the most intimate things he and I have ever done together) and then we have sex. It’s the same as it always is. Not fantastic, but not bad. The only thing that is different is that he seems to be more into me now than he ever has before. Maybe it’s because he just broke up with his girlfriend, maybe it’s because I showed up after not seeing each other for a year and it’s just like old times. Who knows, but he is definitely more complimentary (you’re so cute, so beautiful, we fit really well together, you have the best ass I have ever seen on a jewish girl…) then ever before.<br /><br />When we wake up in the morning, we have sex, I take a shower and then he drives me to my friend’s car. I spend the day in New Jersey which is way too long and complicated of a story to tell now.<br /><br />When I get back from New Jersey I had a birthday party to go to. This was the 30th birthday party of a former coworker. I considered not going because I was so tired, but then I made myself leave the apartment.<br /><br />I got to the bar and it was packed. The only person I knew there was out the door just as I came in. I made b-line for my coworker and his adorable girlfriend. I spent most of the night chatting up with his girlfriend and a friend of hers (who met her husband on JDate). I was actually having a pretty good time, but made a decision to leave by midnight and get some sleep.<br /><br />Then I met my coworker’s roommate. He was…cute, really, really cute. I talked to him for a while. Turns out he’s a lawyer and he also went to NYU. Towards the end of the night it was me, the roommate, my coworker and his girlfriend sitting around a table and talking. The coworker and girlfriend left and it was just me and the roommate. I wasn’t that surprised when he turned to kiss me. Then he said “making out in public is kinda not cool huh?” I smiled and said “I really have very little problem with it.” He laughed and said “I like your style.”<br /><br />We go outside and kiss outside of the bar. He asks me what I want to do. We entertain the possibility of me going home with him but then I realize that his roommate, my former coworker is there, and I’m not sure I want to deal with that walk of shame in the morning.<br /><br />So he comes to my place. I lay down the law very early on that I have no intention of sleeping with him. He says that that is totally fine and we start making out. He’s a better kisser than Yeshiva but he’s a little too lippy for me. Eventually the clothes start coming off. But I stick to my guns and now sex (well sex sex) was had. It was fun we laughed and then went to bed.<br /><br />The morning was…awkward. He asked for my number but somehow I doubt he’ll ever call. I’m not sure if I want him to. I mean, he seems nice but I’m not sure we really clicked.<br /><br />So all of this left me feeling a bit empty inside. I felt like I’m quickly falling back into a pattern of dating just for physical intimacy and I really really don’t want that. It’s very easy to do.<br /><br />So I gave in to the evil jdate empire. We’ll see. I’ll try it for a month and see if it “works.” I’ve certainly heard more success stories from JDate then from any other site, so I’ll give it a shot. Right now, I’m totally obsessed. I’m still feeling out all the features and constantly redoing my profile. This profile is far tamer than my nerve one. We’ll see if that’s a good or bad thing.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1129082026765055622005-10-14T18:53:00.000-07:002005-10-14T19:55:07.750-07:00The humping has GOT to stop. So a few nights ago Yeshiva and I had our first sleepover. Still no serious hanky panky. He hasn’t even seen me in my bra yet, I’m being so good. Honestly the desire is not really there right now.<br /><br />This could have something to do with it…the boy is, well, a bit of a humper. Okay, that’s a major understatement. He is a constant humper. Like constantly in motion – when we’re kissing, when we’re hugging, when we’re cooking, when we’re in public…okay that’s over the top. But seriously, he’s like a monkey in heat.<br /><br />Okay other than this problem (which I assure you we will come back to) he’s not a very good kisser. Basically, I feel as if he is trying to either consume me or clean my teeth. I’ve tried to “train” him by keeping my mouth shut and not letting his tongue poke his way into my mouth but this seems to only give him the green light to slobber on my face.<br /><br />So I asked my roommate, is it okay to bring these “issues” up (in a nice way) with him before I break up with him? The thing is, I really like him. He’s kind, very smart and he likes me. And I know that’s not a good reason to like someone back but it’s always very nice to have. Anyway my roommie says “ask him to give you some breathing room” which I thought was a good idea until I tried to put it into the context of having the conversation with Yeshiva. I mean the phrase breathing room could have so many contexts. It could be the classic “I need my emotional space, you are smothering me” which would not be correct or it could be the “you are physically hindering my breathing” which is also not true. So I’m not sure that’s the correct way to go about this.<br /><br />So I continue on and ask the best friend. She says “that is totally unacceptable and completely incurable and I should move on. She says there is no way to bring this up and at 26, he should know better.<br /><br />Since our sleepover he and I have talked over email and phone but have not yet seen each other. I’m nervous to see him because my inclination is to hug and kiss him and probably start to take his clothes off. But as soon as his hips start moving and his lips start smacking I will be jolted back into reality and back into this quandary.<br /><br />So what’s a girl to do? Has anyone ever told you that they didn’t like the way you kissed? I mean, that’s harsh enough. Has anyone ever told you that they don’t want their leg, hip, butt, tummy, arm humped? Did you survive?Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1129081021336726462005-10-11T21:36:00.000-07:002005-10-11T18:37:01.343-07:00It’s nights like these that make me wish I had a boyfriend. It’s also nights like these that I call Older Navy.<br /><br />See, I’m sick and I had a bad day at work. So in my most pathetic laryngitis ridden voice, I dial and leave the most vulnerable voice mail I can. “Hey, I had a shitty day, I’m sick and I really want to talk to you…” which is why it’s so fucked up that when he did call me back, I didn’t pick up. I just let it ring.<br /><br />This has got me to thinking. What do I really want? I think this was a pretty clear sign that I do not want Older Navy. I simply want a boyfriend. I want someone to “poor baby” me when I’m feeling sick, or when I’ve failed miserably at work.<br /><br />As the phone rings and his name appears on my caller ID I think “why don’t you want to pick up? In those few seconds I have our entire conversation in my head and I realize that it leaves me not only unsatisfied, but also far more confused and hungry than when I started. So I don’t pick up. I keep watching TV and keep feeling sorry for myself. All because I think I can predict the future. I think I know the exact conversation (or at least the outcome) that I will have with him…so I postpone having it.<br /><br />This all makes me far more depressed. If I can’t have a phone conversation with a man I professed to love and maybe still do, how am I ever going to be able to deal with anyone? Ugh, I guess I’m just in a shitty mood but the questions keep appearing in my head. Am I going to be alone? I’m great at meeting people, not so good at keeping them.<br /><br />I start making pathetic little lists of all the boys I’ve screwed this year that have screwed me over. Then I start making the list of all the boys I screwed only once and definitely shouldn’t have. And this all makes me mad and depressed and vulnerable. It makes me start thinking about my high school boyfriend, or my college boyfriend. Things were so much more simple, and we had far less to think about…okay this has taken a turn for the worst. I promise tomorrow I’ll have a funny story about how I got about 47 numbers on Saturday and still ended up going home with the craziest one in the bunch.Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1128314060889220952005-10-02T23:33:00.000-07:002005-10-02T21:38:12.340-07:00Sometime, losers win…<br /><br />I’m conducting a little experiment. Last night, I got a last minute invite to a BBQ from none other than the only non-Jew from my Hebrew school class. I’m going to call him the Yeshiva student cause I think it’s funny. Anyway, since I was nursing a horrible hangover and had not made plans to leave my apartment, I was free for the night and agreed to come to the BBQ. When I arrived near his place he was actually out getting supplies for the party and he met me on the corner. Damn, first to arrive, which is kinda weird considering he told me to come some time between 6 and 7 and it was now 7:45.<br /><br />Shortly after we settled into his place and started unpacking the food, his friends started to arrive. Not that spending alone time with him would have been so horrifying, but I really wasn’t in the mood for that kind of night. So the party was as fun for me as it could be. His friends were nice, but it was kinda awkward not only explaining that he and I met in Hebrew school, but attempting to explain why Yeshiva is in Hebrew school at all.<br /><br />So around 11:30 it was time for me to make a decision. I was still feeling pretty ill from my adventures the night before with Laura and I was really tired. This was my point of no return. If I stayed much longer, I would have to stay with Yeshiva, which I was not really ready to do. So I decided it was time to leave. Early exit, leaves mystery.<br /><br />He walked me to the door and gave me a big old sloppy drunken kiss. I thought, “I like him, but I’m not sure I want to do that again.”<br /><br />I was pretty psyched when he called me today. It’s amazing what someone liking you will do to a person. Anyway he asked what I was up to, I said I was running errands pretty close to his hood and he offered to come meet me. Shit, I’m not showered, I’m in my most awkward Sunday morning attire, I look like shit. I make up a reason why I have to go home first but I’ll meet up with him later. He agrees. I call him around 6:45 and he is in the west village with some friends. He offers to come meet me near my place and we can have dinner.<br /><br />He comes up and we have thai food at this cool little spot in the theatre district. He used to live in my neighborhood so he knows it pretty well. After dinner I invite him over to watch Desperate Housewives and Grey’s Anatomy. He’s never seen either but he said he’s up for it. As we’re walking up the stairs to my apartment he grabs me and kisses me. It’s better when he’s not drunk, but still not my favorite thing in the world.<br /><br />So we sit on my couch (with my roommate – glad he was there so I actually got to watch the show) and watch TV for a few hours. It’s a good time. Anyway, the shows end and my roommie goes into his room. Yeshiva and I are left alone. We start making out. Sloppy sloppy kisser. I don’t know what to do. I start attempting to train him with my kisses. I think it may actually have worked a little bit. I also notice that this boy is sweating a little bit. Not like pit stains, wet gross sweating, but spritzing from his brow sweating. Anyway, he pulls me onto his lap to attempt the more “hot and heavy” making out. I stop him. This is the moment I decide that I am going to hold out on him. I think, woah there cowboy, let’s get this kissing thing down first before we tackle the more advanced stuff.<br /><br />So we stop making out and start talking again, intermittently kissing and holding hands. At one point he makes the somewhat left field comment that 'sometimes, losers win.' I wonder who the loser is here? Eventually he mentions that he should probably get to bed. This mean he either 1) wants to stay over – not gonna happen or 2) needs to leave. I’m gonna go with 2. I tell him that I’m “kicking him out” so he can get some sleep. He smiles, tells me that I’m cute and after much kissing, walks towards the door. I tell him I’ll speak to him soon and we both tell each other Laila tov, which means Goodnight in Hebrew.<br /><br />When he left I told my roommate, “maybe I’ll keep dating him so I can have someone to practice Hebrew with.”<br /><br />So anyway, holding out. I think it’s a good idea. I was telling Laura the story of how my last real long term boyfriend and I met and hooked up and everything. It took us months to sleep together. The first few nights he slept over, I made him sleep on the floor. Granted, I was 20 at the time but hey, I was also just being careful. What happened to that air of caution I used to keep with me? Why do I have to jump so quick and so hard into the physical portion of a relationship? I’ve concluded that I really don’t. I’m in a fairly unheated phase in my life where I could really take or leave sex. The last time I had sex it left me feeling kinda empty, unfulfilled, even a little embarrassed. Why deal with that right now? I can deal with that stuff on my own, why bother bringing some boy into the picture who I may sleep with and never hear from again? What’s the point.<br /><br />So my experiment in celibacy starts tonight. I mean, I’m nto going to be a complete prude. I’ll be that 19 year old Virgin who really wants to have sex. I’ll be the “everything but the” girl. Anyone taking bets on how long this will last?Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525525.post-1128087851076148172005-09-30T09:43:00.000-07:002005-09-30T06:44:11.083-07:00Hello Beautiful…<br /><br />Last week I got a voice mail followed by an email from Older Navy. My heart sank a bit when I saw the “1 missed call” from him and my heart pounded when I saw that little unread email with the subject heading “Hello Beautiful.”<br /><br />The voice mail was weird. It was a kind of drunken roar…I’m not kidding, the man rolled his tongue and gave me a cat-like purr or roar. I think it was the kind of noise you make when you see a girl in really cheesy lingerie. Anyway, that just kinda made me laugh.<br /><br />The email was a little harder to swallow. It stated simply:<br />I’ve decided, you’re perfect.<br /><br />I am sort of at a loss here. What does that mean? Immediate reaction was to write him back with this long diatribe about how I am indeed not perfect. But then I started to analyze. What does he mean when he says that I am perfect? Does it mean I am the perfect girl for him? Does it mean he likes me just the way I am? Does it mean that I’m just a really cool person and he wanted to let me know that he thought so? I really don’t know which is why, after a week I haven’t replied.<br /><br />I had almost put the email behind me when yesterday I got 2 more emails from him. These were far more casual and easy to make sense of. One was just shooting the shit, catching up. The other was a PS talking about how he saw I had a show coming up and that he watched some videos on my other website and wanted to tell me how much he liked them and how much they made him miss me. I almost cried with this email. I almost cried at work when Older Navy emailed me to tell me that he’s thinking of me, checking up on me. Part of me thinks it’s a little creepy that he’s kind of stalking me via the internet but the other part just thinks, “he still loves me.”<br /><br />So it got me to thinking, how can I be still so in love with this person (or in whatever I was with this person) and really not want to be with him? Then it causes me to analyze what it is about him that I miss. I don’t miss the jealousy or the distance. I don’t miss the unreturned phone calls or the lectures. But I do miss the talks and the debates. I miss the cuddling and I really miss the sex. He was so sweet to me when we were together that it starts me down the “well, what if he really did end up moving to New York” path. Which is a dangerous deliberation to go after. Would any of this stuff really get better? I mean, yes he would be physically closer and therefore he would feel more secure about where I was, what I was doing, but he should feel secure about that anyway. I don’t want a boyfriend who feels like he HAS to check up on me all the time. Truth be told, I don’t mind that he cares enough to check in, it’s just when he needs to do an investigation that bothers me.<br /><br />Anyway so here I am with 1 phone call and 3 emails left unreturned. I have a few options here:<br /><br />1. I can go with my emotions and my heart and write him back. I can tell him that I still love him, I miss him and I want him back.<br />2. 2. I can go with my restrained emotions and tell him that I miss him, I love him but I don’t want him back.<br />3. I can tell him that I’m not perfect but I appreciate the sentiment.<br />4. I could ask him what the hell he means by perfection.<br />5. I could just reply to the last email, shoot the shit and ignore the first one.<br />6. I could ignore all calls, emails and letter and just let him go.<br />7. I can call him and just improvise.<br /><br />I’m still not sure what to do. At this point, letting it all go seems like a viable option. I do miss him though…Not Into Youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07469017606684921568noreply@blogger.com0