A formerly married, long-term relationship gal is now a free bird recently released back into the jungle that is NYC's dating scene. In her 30's. Life just got REAL interesting.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Dating story #52, The Love Compartment.
But first, a weekend recap.
I had a ridiculous amount of plans for the weekend. Seriously, like double or triple booked for some days. Amazing how this city comes out of hibernation when it gets [remotely] warmer. However my nasal passages had other big plans for me, in the form of a massive sinus infection. Thanks! Back-to-back bouts with tonsillitis and now a major mucous convention in my face?
Who's the luckiest?
THIS girl. Friday night: Plans with besties Ray and KK: cancelled. [mega sad face] Saturday:
Although I awoke with my head feeling about as light as a cantaloupe, I had to rally. It was my dear, longtime friend and former bandmate D-day's surprise 40th bday party AND "roast." Not to mention a reunion of sorts with one of my favoritest groups of friends that I rarely see these days due to relocation, and procreation.
Thus, I dragged my snotty self out of bed and to Hill Country BBQ, the scene of the crime. Crime, you ask? Well I was quite psyched for this roast, since this group of guys is amongst the smartest, wildy, insanely hilarious and utterly grotesque group a person could ever be blessed to know. However I was surprised and concerned upon arrival to discover this party wasn't just friends but also family, including a few blue-haired beauty shop 'do's. Oh dear lord. To say the boys "didn't hold back" would be the understatement of a lifetime. In fact, I even learned a few new words that day! At one point I looked over to see the bartender, an innocent bystander (not so innocent when all was said and done) literally had his hands covering his face in shock and awe. And laughter.
I couldn't even bring myself to look over at the "adults" table, for fear of what expressions their faces might be contorted into.
But apparently, no one is safe at a roast. And by "no one" I mostly mean ME.
That's right, in order to make the roastee feel better (or just because they had the opportunity), I got several jabs from SEVERAL roasters. Being the only girl in my former band and now, being newly single appears to lend itself quite nicely to ridicule. And since many of the guys happen to read this blog (unbeknownst to me), jabs like: "Lindsey, has your vagina reached capacity yet?" "I think I saw it smoking a cigarette and hailing a cab to Laguardia." were some highlights. Still not quite sure what the last one means. Additionally: "Your rehearsal dinner lasted longer than your marriage." Yep, I felt sufficiently covered by the time I left there. I set off in search of a) new friends b) a nap. I was roused from my sinus-induced sleep by my friend Jones who managed to haze me into attending the comedy/rap show I had promised to attend with him a month ago. Note: 25 year old boys really do not care or even listen when you say "I'm really not feeling well." I agreed to go on the condition that I don't drink a drop of alcohol and I'm home by midnight. He agreed and said he also was so hungover from Friday that he'd be right there with me. That it would be "like going to a movie, only more interesting." However, turns out, all Jones needed was a little nap to be revived and back on the whiskey train! Sweet. Fun for me. But, the show really was worth it. Have you ever heard of Donald Glover? He's an actor on Community and also a comedian and rapper who goes by the name of Childish Gambino. Let me tell you, this is possibly one of the most multi-faceted people I have ever witnessed. Actor. Comedian. Rapper. Singer. And hot with a sick body to boot. And, he does all of it WELL. Seriously, homeboy is oozing with talent. You can download his rap/hip-hop at the link above for free.
During the show, as I was jumping up in down with the crowd, as a sick person should, someone abruptly pushed past me, running into my shoulder. I almost got pissed off until I realized it was none other than Joel McHale, star of Community and host of The Soup, one of my faves, supporting and filming his co-star with a shit-eating grin on his face. Pretty cool to see. I love New York sometimes. After the show, I bid adieu to my non-sober friend and headed home, running into my neighbor-friend in a random part of the subway. Again, New York. Not as big as you think it is. Sunday: So what I haven't told you yet is that I was working on healing the whole weekend so I could be in good shape Sunday night. Why? SoCal. Yes, that's right. He's STILL in the picture. It's just a very fuzzy picture. Actually, it's become pretty clear to me and, thus, is the inspiration for this post's title. Since I initially started seeing SoCal [sporadically] since December, I've completely adjusted my expectations from the relationship and thus, have begun to enjoy it. I just realized he needed to be put in a certain place in my life, a compartment, if you will. Hence, the Love Compartment. Ok, so I don't loveSoCal, per se, but I like hanging out with him and it's a nice play off of glove compartment, so just go with it. And honestly, what's so wrong with it? He's good-looking, smart, easy to talk to/hang with, and we have the music connection. I know now that this is not a guy I could ever end up with, but why not enjoy him when he's around and I've got nothing else going on? Done and done. He popped up Friday [via text, obvi] to see if I wanted to see the CSS & Sleigh Bells show at Bowery Ballroom on Sunday night. And, I did! So we made plans and that was that. Then, I spent the rest of the weekend taking a sinus-med cocktail and praying I'd be better by Sunday. When Sunday night rolled around, I felt halfway decent and ready to fake the other half, excited for some seemingly much-needed man attention. Since SoCal was running late after back-to-back soccer games (as usual) we met up at the venue. Standing at the bar he looked at me and said "It's good to see you! It's been awhile, huh?" Um yeah, dum dum. Because you are so freakin' aloof, not to mention you forgot to take me to the Peter, Bjorn & John show (as promised), which I jokingly called him out on. He, in all seriousness, was like "Why didn't you remind me?" Umm...right. If you don't follow up, I assume it's because you don't want to. But I'm really gaining greater understanding of him and I think he's really just kind of out of it. The best part? I don't care! It's fun when it's fun, and that's awesome. We had a great time at the concert, dancing together and he was being super flirty, which is always enjoyable. In between the two bands, I volunteered to sift through the crowd and get us drinks while he held down the real estate. As I turned behind me to survey the amount of crowd-weaving I'd have to do, BAM! There he was. Again. Good ol' ex bf Champ. But I had to stare a second to make sure because he SHAVED HIS HEAD. And let me tell you, that was the opposite of a good idea. I'm not quite sure what he had against his hair, but luckily it's not my job to care. Especially since he was such an immature turd when I tried to make nicey-nice after our last run-in. So I used an alternate route and, fortunately, didn't see Champ again. SoCal came over after the show and hung out for a bit and even fell asleep for awhile, before heading home to his dog. But it was so nice to be spooned, if only for a little while. In fact, that's really all I need. Spoon me to sleep and then get the hell out before I wake up in your sweaty arm-lock. A recipe for perfection. And, he may even come stay out in Fire Island with me for one night during Memorial Day Weekend. Fine with me! I'm starting to like this little arrangement. Until the right guy comes along, everyone can just have their nice little cubby in the Love Compartment. It's like my bizarre collection of Tupperware. Each holds something different, yet useful.
And with that, I'd like to leave you with what I've been listening to on repeat this week. Y'welcome.