Spoke Too Soon...

Yep that's officially the last time that I go and wax optimistic about something because it inevitably turns to shit right after that. You'd think I would know better by now, but apparently not...

Client Boy asked me to spend Sunday with him before he had to go to an event, so we made plans to meet for brunch and then take in a museum, a cute Sunday date. I was really looking forward to it and feeling all warm and snuggly inside about him.

I called him on Saturday night to confirm our plans for Sunday and never received a response. Then I called again on Sunday half an hour before our pre-scheduled meeting time, and his phone was off. Instead of waiting at the restaurant by myself, pathetically waiting for him to show up, I canceled the reservation and assumed he'd call me later with an amazing excuse.

Sunday morning, afternoon, and evening passed, and still no word.

Heinous, right?

Today, at 6PM I finally heard from him. He told me he just wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone yesterday and he knew it was totally immature, but didn't even have the decency to call or text me that he wasn't feeling up to it. That was it. No cranes collapsing, no dropping phone in the toilet, nothing chaotic or disastrous. He just didn't feel like it.

After a fun weekend with very little sleep, I'm too exhausted to really feel any way about it except exasperated by the immaturity of all the man-boys in Manhattan.

Ode To My Girlfriends

Last night, something truly monumental happened. After weeks of being away with busy work schedules (work? what's that?) and my impromptu disappearing to tornado-ridden cities, my girlfriends and I finally went out together after weeks of well, apart-ness.

Not only did we have a fun time going out together, but it was absolutely wonderful to catch up with them and fill each other in on all our recent escapades. I hadn't realized how much I had missed having my girls around for support and how much I needed E to tell me to "get my shit together" to my face.

I'm one of those girls who got along better with guys than with girls all through high school and college. I always had more male friends than female ones, and my little sister E remarked recently that this is the first time she remembers me having really good girlfriends, which was a relief to her.

Although I still have some great guy friends, I have discovered that being a single girl in Manhattan absolutely requires having a close support group of females in your life. They are the only ones that truly understand the ups and downs of dating and the man freaks that exist in New York City. And I'm lucky enough to know some of the city's most beautiful, smart, and successful chickas in the world (that's right - my friends can beat up your friends). It's all very SATC (Sex and the City, for you non-acronym folks), but I couldn't imagine my life here in Manhattan without my ladies.

Something Different

After getting several complaints that my blog was getting depressing (thanks friends, I appreciate it), I was venting to my pal S and he said that it was ok, but he could tell that I was going through some sort of crisis from my writing lately. He said it seemed that I was going through a lot of self-retrospection. I suppose I have been in a bit of a funk lately, just from frustration with the dating scene in New York, and assorted other issues that come along with being a grownup (will I ever get used to it?).

I have complained to S in the past about the crazy guys that I have been meeting, and he told me a while ago that when the right guy came along, I would suddenly have no desire to blog about him and that's how I knew it would be special. I just laughed it off at the time and told him it was crazy, but it turns out he might have been right.

I've been seeing Client Boy on and off for a few weeks, and we recently started seeing each other regularly. It hit me out of nowhere today that it might actually be something, and I had this intense desire to keep it private, in the hopes that I wouldn't jinx it or anything.

He's a good guy and I thoroughly enjoy spending time with him. I'm enjoying taking it slow and seeing where it goes, without any real expectations.

The Ex-Factor

Tonight I did something utterly stupid that I should know better than to do: I went out for drinks with an ex-boyfriend.

Just to give you a little backstory, we went out for a year about eight years ago and hadn't seen each other in about five years. After college, he joined the army and is currently on leave and visiting his parents in the city, which is why he reached out to me to get together. We broke up after I cheated on him and ended up dating the guy I cheated on him with for three years, so needless to say, we didn't have a great breakup and the last time we saw each other, there was still a great deal of resentment and anger.

I figured after all this time he would be over anything that had happened, but it turns out these things never really die. I was drinking profusely to counteract the awkwardness of the situation, but it didn't really work. He told me that I had been a basketcase while we were dating, therefore making me a terrible girlfriend at the time, and that all his friends hated me(not surprising, when you throw in the cheating factor).

All in all, it was uncomfortable and weird and the only thing I really walked away with was that I have no idea how I dated him for so long years ago. Also, we probably aren't going to be meeting up again any time soon, partly because he is going abroad for at least another year, but partly because I have no desire to subject myself to his company again.

When I recounted the events to my friend J, he laughed and told me this is exactly why he has a policy of not seeing his exes. Nothing good ever comes out of it. I'm inclined to agree with him and am considering adopting this policy as well.

Spontaneity!

Tonight I thought I was just going to have a calm, mellow Tuesday, but boy was I wrong. My night started with grabbing a happy hour drink with B. Then I went to see Client Boy briefly before he went to a concert and meet his roommate, who had been out of the country for a month, which was why we had never met before. As I was leaving, B texted me to come back to the bar and meet her because we were going somewhere.

Assuming that we were going to another bar or she wanted to go dancing or something, I went to meet her. When I asked her where we were going, she smiled mischievously and told me, "I want to get a tattoo. We're going to go get me a tattoo." I was taken aback momentarily and then responded, "Ok, where should we go that will still be open?" If I know one thing, it's that after B has set her mind to something, there's no talking her out of it.

This was how B and I ended up wandering around the East Village, drunk, looking for an open tattoo parlor that didn't look like it would give her hepatitis. We finally found a reputable place that was still open and as we leafed through the artists' books, I decided in the moment that I wanted a tattoo too.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting in the chair, squinting in pain, and trying not to flinch because that would permanently mar the tattoo I would be stuck with forever. Of course, this wasn't before one of the greatest moments of my life: B sitting in the chair in complete pain as she got the sensitive part of her foot tattooed, in her bra (she was having hot flashes so she took her shirt off), and singing the Dixie Chicks at the top of her lungs while she listened to her iPod and clutched my hand. The tattoo artist and I just looked at each other and shook our heads, trying not to laugh too hard.

Thank goodness I woke up this morning, looked at the tattoo, and loved it. I sent a picture to my little sister E and she said she loves it and was kind of jealous. It was the best response I could have hoped for, since I'm stuck with it, well forever.

It's Raining Men!

I will never understand the way these cycles work, but some nights there are so many guys texting and calling me that I am totally overwhelmed, and other nights, crickets.

The other night, I was seeing Client Boy, who I hadn't seen since before my trip to Atlanta. We had talked on and off while I was gone and after my return, but with our busy schedules had taken a while to see each other again.

While I was hanging out with him, I was texted by not one, not two, but THREE guys that I hadn't heard a peep from for the most part in a while. Alumni Boy wanted to see what I was up to which I responded, "Where's your girlfriend tonight?". That shut him up real quick.

I hadn't spoken to or seen Slingarm since my birthday and deciding I was completely done with him. He started texting me out of the blue and I chose to just ignore the texts (applause, applause!).

Then, after weeks of not hearing from him, out of nowhere Moneybags started calling me to let me know he was in the city and he wanted to see me. I told him I already had plans and maybe next time, he should call in advance and actually make plans. Despite the pissy response, he continued to text and call me until 8AM the next morning (?).

Then the following night, when I didn't have any plans and decided to stay in and catch up on my Netflix, of course, that night was silent as could be. It's really true what they say, that it never rains, but it pours.

Thoughts On Philanderers

I know it's a fact that people cheat, male and female alike, but recently I have been hit on by a surprising amount of taken men. Not only has it baffled me, but now I'm wondering if there are any trustworthy men out there after all.

Last night, I went out with B to our usual bar and started talking to a random group of guys at the bar. Totally coincidentally, they were from my alma mater but graduated before I had even gotten there. Nevertheless, we hit it off reminiscing about our college days and the disgusting dorms we lived in. One of them in particular, Alumni Boy, was paying a lot of attention to me and any time I ventured a few feet away, he would promptly call my name. As B said, he was "obsessed."

The funny thing is when he started talking to B and I, he told us he had a "roommate" that we later discovered was a live-in girlfriend of two years. That didn't stop him from talking to me all night and then asking for my number at the end of the night but with the caveat that we would have to "keep it under wraps."

At the same bar, I had a guy hit on me who B later found out was married.

As if that wasn't enough, the other night I went out to an event with a platonic friend of mine who is engaged. I have hung out with him numerous times, met his fiance, and we get along great. We've always had a fun, flirty, casual relationship, but this night he made an inappropriate move on me and I suddenly realized that this friendship wasn't as platonic as I had thought. He actually said to me, "You are so sexy that you make me want to do bad things to you."

This guys is getting married in six months! As I recounted the story to my girlfriends, they were in shock and we all collectively mused over whether there were actually decent, loyal guys left in Manhattan.

And Poof! They're Gone

Alright, it's official. Men are magicians.

I'm running through my list of guys and it's amazing how many of them have just dropped off the face of the earth. First and foremost is NJ Boy. I had already written him off after my birthday, but he is officially out of the picture, considering I haven't heard from him in about two weeks. My best guess is that he either got freaked out or met someone, and therefore has decided to cut off all contact with me. I'm only bothered by it because I wanted to be the one to end things with him. After all, I'm the one that decided that it wasn't going to go anywhere. And then there he goes ignoring me and totally messing up my plan to ignore him!

Does this mean I can start pursuing his roommate, Roommate Boy, now?

Pretending To Be Irish

After dealing with the illogical setup of the Atlanta airport and my flight being delayed for "missing equipment" (yes, I found that perturbing as well), I arrived back in Manhattan, dropped my bags off in my apartment, and went straight to the bar to meet B so we could pretend to be Irish and celebrate St. Paddy's Day.

Holidays people celebrate for the sole purpose of having an excuse to drink have always fascinated me. But hey, I'm not complaining; I'll drink beer and wear shamrocks if it means there will be hoards of cute, drunk boys out on a Monday night.

So in the spirit of the holiday, B and I got drunk and I started talking to a cute boy in a green sweater at the bar (St. Paddy's Day Boy, sorry for the lack of creativity, but I am starting to lose track, so I need descriptive names). I ended up hanging out with him and his work friends for the remainder of the night (after B ditched me, that's right, guilt trip time).

They were a fun, entertaining group of guys, and I gave St. Paddy's Day Boy my phone number (as per usual), but I felt slightly melancholic at the end of the night because 1) I was exhausted from the nonstop partying and 2) they were just another group of immature boys just like all the other groups of immature boys I have been wasting time with just like the thousands of groups of immature boys that exist in bars throughout New York City.

Hmmmm rereading that last sentence I realized that it sounds pretty bitter, which I am not, just tired and with a slight cold from all the recent partying and traveling. I am going to go rest and work on my attitude.

Watch Out Hotlanta!

Deciding Manhattan needed a break from the chaos that is my life, I headed to Atlanta to visit my friend R, and apparently brought the "most destructive tornado in years" with me, complete with two deaths and one person whose car flew four football fields away. I've been informed I'm not allowed back in the state until winter, when there is little chance of tornadoes. Whoops. Sorry about that Georgia.

Highlights from my trip:

1) The tornado. Woohoo! I think the only person that got more of a kick out of the footage of windows shattering and the Georgia Dome coming apart than I did was the weatherman that seemed to have been waiting his whole lifetime to deliver this story.

2) The most action I got was when a six-year old came up to my dinner table and offered to make me a "real-life Transformer" when he had "grown bigger." I'm holding you to that deal little guy!

3) Rita's Water Ice! Oh how I love thee.

Self-Evaluation Time

I'm taking a good, long look at my dating choices for the past couple months and it ain't pretty, which is why I probably should've left well enough alone.

First off, all the guys I've been dating seem to fall into a general category of pretty frat boy, which is something I really thought I'd grown out of since college, but apparently haven't. As if that wasn't bad enough, there is a general recurring theme of emotional unavailability, but I'm not sure that's specific to only the guys I date or to the general male population as a whole.

Taking this into account, it's probably a good idea that I am starting afresh, but I can't help but be worried that I've fallen into a pattern that I can't break out of, considering my two most recent projects include a guy I knew in college who now plays sports for a living (Commercial Boy) and a guy that E describes as a "four-year old in a grown up body" (Client Boy).

Hmmm....

My New Claim to Fame

So watching college hoops with my friend R in Atlanta, we've been seeing multiple sports commercials and he pointed out, unbeknownst to me, that one of our classmates from college was in a major commercial because he's now playing a sport professionally.

Although it probably wasn't THAT big a deal, I was immediately a little awed and starstruck (well seriously, what major commercials have YOU been in lately?). I remembered that I had run into Commercial Boy a couple years ago randomly in an airport and gotten his phone number then, and wondered if it was the same.

Therefore, I did the only logical thing and called him and when it went to voicemail, it seemed he had not changed his phone number. I congratulated him on the commercial and told him to call me back so we could catch up.

To my utter shock, he texted me the next day saying he was traveling so he couldn't call me back, but thank you for the message and we should get together the next time he was in New York. And that's how I ended up with a date next Monday with Commercial Boy.

I'm pretty excited about my date with the professional sports star who's kind of a big deal. I will be following this post up with a minute-by-minute liveblog of the date complete with photos.

More on Online Dating

Hanging out with my friend J the other night, he allowed me a peek at his online profiles on his online dating sites, including the M and the J (Match.com and J-Date if you need a refresher). I was highly impressed with the amount of care he had put into his profiles and even more amused that he listed "artichoke hearts and avocados" among his interests. You acknowledge those vegetable passions J!

(Actually, I was just informed that avocados are fruits, and as important as avocados are to me personally, this is an argument I feel is inappropriate in this particular forum. Stay tuned for the all-important fruit vs. vegetable debate on armyofavocadoes.com).

When asked how successful his ventures have been, J told me that he's gone out on a bunch of first dates with girls he met through his profiles, but it never panned into anything substantive. From speaking with my other friends, this seems to be the general trend. E met a guy through "the M," they saw each other a few times, and he's no longer really in the picture.

J told me, quite frankly, that for the most part the people on the M and the J are "pathetic losers" who can't find dates in real life, and you really have to weed through the unattractive people to get to the ones worth meeting in real life.

All in all, I still have mixed feelings on the internet dating thing, especially in Manhattan where it's so easy to meet people everywhere you go (if you can't tell from my running list of boys that I've met). I haven't gotten to the point yet where I can justify paying $40 a month to post a profile and find dates. Give me a few more months of disastrous dates, though, and I might have changed my tune.

Mixing Business With Pleasure

Last night I went out for celebratory belated "I quit my job" drinks with a former client of mine. It was the first time we had actually met face-to-face after multiple phone calls and e-mails, where I wasn't always friendly.

I immediately regretted being a biatch to him at any point in the past because he turned out to be incredibly gorgeous and sexy in person. We had a great time, involving a great deal of getting-to-know-each-other conversation and flirty touches.

He doesn't seem to be the sharpest tack in the barrel, but he's a good time without a doubt and definitely a fun person to have around. And since I just wrote off all the guys in my life from before my birthday, I'm glad that I have at least one fun distraction right now.

The new me isn't taking it very seriously though, and is ok whether he does or doesn't call. I'm leaving for Atlanta tomorrow so I plan on having a lot of fun there and parting with cute Southern boys so that when I return to Manhattan, I will have totally forgotten about Client Boy.

Don't Try This Without Supervision

So in an attempt to do something new and incorporate some new guys into my life since I have sworn off all the previous ones, I went out tonight with my friend B to our local bar spot. It was surprisingly crowded for a Tuesday night, but not quite full of winners, as one would expect.

We sat at one end of the bar and I spotted two cuties on the other side. Usually, in the past, I would've approached them and started chatting with them. However, since this was the new me (and I was feeling lazy since I was sitting on a stool and munching on chips), I turned to B and said, "I think I'm going to buy them beers and see what happens."

I called the bartender over and pointed out the guys: "Please buy each of them a beer and put it on my tab."

He kind of rolled his eyes (yes, I know the whole thing was kind of silly, but whatever), but he did and we promptly got waves from the boys. Instead of coming over (like they were supposed to do, duh), they just drank their free beers. B and I sat on our end of the bar, fuming, until the bartender came back and poured us two shots, "courtesy of the boys over there." We smiled at them, toasted, and took our shots (some sort of watermelon deliciousness).

As if all this wasn't juvenile and ridiculous enough, B and I then proceeded to take a napkin and write them a note (I will attribute this part of the story to the shots we just took). It said, "Thanks for the shots! Come over and chat with us. xoxo." We then handed the note to the bartender, who very visibly rolled his eyes at us this time, clearly peeved at being our messenger boy.

And still they did not come! One of the guys finally came over about ten minutes later and introduced himself as a law student from around the corner. He turned out to be pretty dull and worse, he wasn't as cute as he looked from fifteen feet away. It was disappointing, to say the least.

So, all in all, what did I end up with? Two beers on my tab, a free shot, and an angry bartender. Could be worse.

A New Start

After sobering up from all the birthday festivities, I came to an epiphany: I am spending entirely too much of my time on worthless boys. Now, I know, it's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to come to this decision, but at least I did.

When all the alcohol and champagne finally wore off, it hit me how old I am getting and I had the inevitable momentary mid-life crisis. It was then that I made a monumental decision: I am starting over.

As of my birthday, I am wiping away the past and starting off with a clean slate. This means I am done with any of the boys from before my birthday, especially including NJ Boy, Moneybags and Slingarm. I have wasted too much time waiting for them to call, wondering what they're up to, dwelling on their feelings for me, all the while knowing (but not admitting to myself) that it was never going to go anywhere with any of them (yes, partly due to my own commitmentphobia, but that's irrelevant).

So there you go: I am a year older and making a brand new start. I am a blank slate, a virgin, if you will. I am going to make better decisions and stop throwing my time away on guys that don't even call. Take that isle of lost men! You no longer have control over me.

Making Papa Drone More Gangsta

I am at my parents' house for a little rest and relaxation, and my belated birthday dinner. I still feel as if alcohol is seeping out of my pores. The celebratory champagne I have been drinking with my parents probably isn't helping either.

Speaking of champagne, my biggest accomplishment of the day was teaching beloved Papa Drone how to pronounce "Cristal" (he was saying it like "crystal") and explaining that he needs to order it correctly so people will know he's a "baller." This of course led to some confusion because he thought I said "bowler" and didn't understand what ten pins and a bowling alley have to do with champagne. Then after I spelled "b-a-l-l-e-r" out for him, he was under the impression that a baller is a person who goes to balls and makes sure the balldancers have fun.

After sister E and I finished hysterically laughing, we explained that being a baller had nothing to do with bowling or actual balls, and more to do with hip-hop. At which point Papa Drone said, "Oh, like bling bling. I'm going to need some more bling bling to be a baller."

Lesson one of being a baller down. Tomorrow I think I will teach him about grills and caddys, by which of course I mean cadillacs and not people wearing funny little outfits out on a golf green.

Somehow Still Alive...

After the birthday merriment last night, I am not sure how I am still standing. Actually, I take that back because I am currently sitting with little intention of getting up since my foot is bruised (from being stepped on by a drunk guy, naturally) and my legs are sore from dancing all night in stilettos. In fact, I'm not sure when I'll be able to walk again without saying "ow" with every step. After two showers, I still feel as if alcohol is oozing out of every one of my pores.

It was a fantastic night and of course it wouldn't be a birthday without a little blacking out and boy drama. Despite the fact that I hadn't spoken to him in a while, Slingarm showed up and created a slew of discomfort around my friends that don't approve of him (for being an douchebag and whatnot).

Then my good friend and long-time love from college, McPreppy, showed up. I haven't seen him in a while since he doesn't live in the city and he works ludicrous hours in the financial world. The McPreppy deprivation for the past couple months combined with massive amounts of alcohol fueled a great deal of sitting on his lap and introducing him to people as "the guy I'm going to marry but he doesn't know it yet" to which he would uncomfortably say, "um." It also led to my sister pulling me aside to tell me that Slingarm couldn't stop staring at me all night and it was "creeping her out."

Note to all single girls looking to meet guys: wear a tiara at a bar and they will spring out of the woodworks. I had an entire table of guys I didn't know toast to my birthday, took pictures with guys that approached me out of nowhere, and had countless others yell "happy birthday" at me. I ended up getting the number of one cutie, Accountant Boy, but was mostly preoccupied with spending time with my friends and making sure my 30-year-old inappropriate guy friends didn't hit on my little sister.

The night ended around 4AM, after a champagne toast at my apartment with my pals. As I mentioned earlier, this is the first birthday I have spent in a long while without a boyfriend, but instead of feeling lonely and sad, I am actually incredibly happy and left with the sensation of how much I am loved by my friends, and what a fantastic circle of support I have around me.

All in all it was a great birthday, and I'm going to keep the celebration going as long as I can, even though I don't think I can get away with wearing the tiara anymore. Boo.

Growing Older But None the Wiser

As I count down the minutes to my birthday, I am reevaluating my life as we tend to do on occasions such as this.

It suddenly hit me a few moments ago that this is the first year ever in my life to date that I will be alone on the midnight of my birthday, instead of out celebrating with friends or a boyfriend. Instead, since I am becoming an old lady, I am resting up for the festivities tomorrow night and spending the night reading and sleeping. And I have a feeling that this is the beginning of a new trend of this nature; where I will be spending more of life's milestones on my own.

Years ago, if you had asked me where I would be right now, I would've told you that I would be married with kids and living in the suburbs. I never would have dreamed in a thousand years that I would be single, living in Manhattan, and technically unemployed. (Wow it sounds depressing when I put it that way, doesn't it?) But I was talking to my friend J the other day and he asked me to picture the life I would've had if I had married my ex and was strapped to children in the burbs right now.

I tried to imagine what it would be like if I was spending my birthday with a husband and children, rather than throwing a huge party in a bar in Manhattan.

And then I told him wholeheartedly that I was thankful I am where I am, having fun, living on my own, with great friends I am going to celebrate with tomorrow. And he said to me, "Awww, look at little Stinger all grown up."

Happy Birthday to me :)

They're Alive!!!!!

Excuse me, but I'm slightly in shock. I just heard from Moneybags and spoke to NJ Boy last night after totally writing them off to the Isle of Lost Men.

After meeting Moneybags last week and making bets with my friends about whether he would actually call since he "doesn't do the phone" (B is referring to him as "No-Phone Guy"), I was pretty sure I wouldn't ever actually hear from him. Then, lo and behold, I actually got a call today. We made plans to see each other in the next week, but it's already becoming clear that the gap in our ages (nine years!) might be an obstacle.

Last night, after nine days of silence, I finally spoke to NJ Boy. Turns out my instincts were right and he freaked out after last weekend when I went out with him and his roommates. I totally understood where he was coming from since I have been having my own minor freakouts about how serious things were getting and our possible exclusivity.

We had a calm talk and decided to slow things down and see each other when we see each other, but not get too serious. I don't think I'm in any way ready for a relationship, and I don't think he knows what he wants (in typical boy fashion). He apologized for not calling and agreed that in the future if something is bothering him, he'll talk to me about it. All in all, it was really good to get everything out in the open and I'm glad we talked it out.

Perhaps there is hope for mankind after all...

Facebook Flirting

Despite the fact that I am unemployed and one would think that I have all the time in the world, I have been surprisingly busy due to my newest addiction: Facebook.

I had an account years ago in college when it first came out, but deactivated it and only recently rejoined when I realized that all of my friends were now on Facebook and I was missing out on all sorts of fun. And now, I have discovered a whole new time-consuming joy: flirting with guys I have not seen in years but have reconnected with via Facebook and discovered are still adorable.

I've never had so much fun e-mailing with boys that I haven't seen in years and would not have given a thought to if it wasn't for Facebook. Now I know why so many people are addicted to it - how else would you stay in touch with people you haven't seen in 10 years and have no real desire to ever see again? I knew that whole internet thing would be good for something!

I have been e-mailing (online flirting) with two boys in particular, and will see if they actually pan out into anything worth blogging about. Wish me luck!

Breaking Up Is Always Hard To Do

Today I had a significant breakup, but not with a boy (not that there is a boy I could break up with right now, but that's not the point). I left my day job to pursue my career as a writer full-time; that's right, I am going to be 100% dedicated to writing my novel and other writing projects (including this fabulous blog).

It's a pretty terrifying step, although I'm very excited to do what I love and take some time off from office life. I am not sure people were meant to spent the majority of their lives in cubicles, staring at computer monitors. Therefore, I'll spend my time sitting in my apartment or Starbucks staring at my laptop monitor. It's a really big change, I swear.

I've always found that having a job is very much like being in a relationship. At the beginning, you interview, you hope that they'll like you and call. You sit by the phone, biting your nails, until they finally do. Then, there are the inevitable ups and downs, days you are gloriously happy and fulfilled, days where all you want to do is quit. And then in the end, when you pack up your desk and walk out, you are filled with sadness and uncertainty about whether you made the right decision.

I threw myself into my work after my (relationship) breakup, to keep me occupied and give me a sense of purpose. Without that, it is definitely going to be a big adjustment. Just like with any breakup I can only hope that I did what was right for me and in time it will all make sense.

The Isle of Lost Men

Ok. Seriously. If anyone can answer this question, I will grant them a handsome reward: what exactly is the point of asking for a girl's phone number, or telling her you are going to call, and then never doing so???

I was reflecting on the people I have given my phone number out to recently who seemed so anxious to get it at the time, and then never bothered calling. UES Boy embarrassed himself and me to acquire my digits, and I have not heard from him since. Then a few weeks ago I gave my phone number to TV Boy, and he texted me a few times the next day, and then promptly never reached out to me again. Most recently this happened with Moneybags, but I'm still giving him the benefit of a doubt.

What is up with this bizarre boy behavior? If you don't want to call me, then why go through all the trouble of getting my phone number to begin with? It's not like I forced my number on these guys; they made an extra effort to ask for it, but never had any intention of following through?

But I'm not completely bothered by these boys; obviously they get off on collecting phone numbers the way eleven-year olds collect baseball cards.

What I am really and truly baffled by right now is the fact that NJ Boy has dropped off the face of the earth. I haven't seen or heard from him since last weekend when I went out with him and his roommates. We had a great time and I got along great with them; the last time I saw him he gave me a kiss and said, "I'll talk to you soon," but that was clearly a lie. And then, out of nowhere, poof, he's gone.

After a few unreturned phone calls, I finally had it and sent him an e-mail asking if he's ok (because if something really did happen, boy will I feel like a bitch then), and to let me know what's going on in his head. The only reasons I can think of for the sudden cold shoulder are that he's either freaking out because we're starting to get serious, which I would totally understand or he figured out that his roommate, Roommate Boy, and I are perfect for each other and he's stepping aside to let us work it out. Yes? No? Delusional much?