MANdate, Cold and Uninspired.

wow, my last post was a WEEK ago?
Generally, when this occurs, it's either because I'm busy or bored.
in this case, i'm busybored. BLAH.


Has stuff been going on? 
Yes.
Is any of it interesting to me?
No. 
Boring. 
Blah.


But I'll let you be the judge.  
I have definitely been busy all week, with my new roommie for a few days.
STELLAAAA!

Stella is MIM's precious little nugget and, I have to say, pretty stinkin' cute.  If she didn't bark at my neighbor's every breath, I may have nugget-napped her. In her defense, my neighbors move around A LOT.
Stella was basically my date all week.  She showed me that anyone can be affected by winter's static bad
 hair-ness. She also was there to help advise me in my makeup choices.  So necessary, I highly recommend her.

self-styled

So what's new in man-land?
Well, after my quasi break-through date with SoCal last week, I was feeling pretty positive about things.
How dumb of me.
After our great time weds night, I had started to feel more like he was just busy/overwhelmed and maybe not as serial dating as I had suspected. 
We texted on Thursday night, as we were both at the Interpol show @ Radio City Music Hall.  I also happen to know that he was with his cousin, not a date at that show.  We didn't end up meeting up and, we wouldn't have anyway since Lindsey decided to drink Redbull+Vodka [ie fizzy urine-crack] and had to make it an early night. UGH. VIM.
But it was cool that we had that shared experience and texted about it.
Wanna know what was NOT cool? [aside from redbullvodkabarf]-- Radio City Music Hall holds about 1,000 people or so. And who do I see within SECONDS of walking in? My ex-boyfriend, Champ. I think the universe is playing a cruel joke on me.  First off, I think I see him at least once a day, due to Champ has a very common look (tall, dark hair, beard, hipster-y) and I get a few Champ fake-outs a day.  So seeing the real thing was definitely a surprise.  Even worse, I really wished I could just go up and say hi to him. But, I refrained for fear of ruining his night and/or causing him to break into tears in front of friends.  Seriously- I have no idea where his head's at, but I'm pretty sure it still HATES my ass.
Anyway, back to SoCal.
I mentioned in my last post that I wrote him a cute, funny note on FB on Friday. And, he NEVER. WROTE. BACK.  
I find this odd because he always responds.  And, people have also not always received FB messages from me before. But still-- I'm perplexed.
This also sucked because I had another one of those awesome Supperclub parties to attend Monday night and I had bought a ticket for a date.  I had originally asked The Streak, but he had politely declined for fear his upcoming, wild weekend would cause him to bail last minute and he didn't want to do that to me. [again].
So, SoCal was obvi next in line.  But now with the no FB response...F*CK.
I decided to wait a few days and shoot a casual "oh, hey just got this last minute invite..." kind of text to him late sunday afternoon.  He wrote me back: "Aww, sounds so fun but I already have plans. Shit."
[really? other people have plans on a MONDAY night?]
two seconds later I got:
"White Rabbits @ Bowery on Saturday?"
Okay, so he's inviting me to see another show with him. Which I love. But it's all just so confusing!
So I wrote back "No worries about dinner. Saturday sounds awesome. I'm in."
And...
No confirmation text back! Like "ok cool." or "Great see you then."  And, of course, I haven't heard from him since.  So, as much as I'd like to confirm those plans and if they do, in fact, still exist, I am going to follow BFWB's advice and just wait it out.  [actually, his advice was "F*ck 'em. Do something else."] But I'm choosing my own interpretation.  
I'm getting really bored and sick of this whole thing.  I mean who goes on like 6-7 dates with someone over a TWO MONTH PERIOD???  
I'm seriously considering changing his name to Mr. Sporadical.


TJ's Supperclub on monday, however was an AMAZING time and I had the most gorgeous date:

El Menu

my good friend, Sexy Sue. We had a blast and the food was even more ridic than last time. Here's some pics of our Flamenco-themed evening, complete with Flamenco music and dancing!

Best. Ceviche. Of. Life.

And let me explain the star course (in my opinion). My picture is not doing it any justice.  Let's just say it was something to the effect of a fois gras ravioli in butternut squash puree with a perfectly crisp, honeyed piece of BACON on top and some pepitas. 
Are. You. Kidding???!!  
It rocked my world so hard I had to check where I was when I was done.

my new lover.

So, as you can see, I haven't been at home sitting on my couch.  But still, I'm feeling uninspired and unfulfilled. I guess I'm finally at the point where all this crazy dating stuff is less of an adventure (or MISadventure), and more of a "what's the point these guys are weird and boring and bad kissers and I'm going to die old and alone with cats. and, I hate cats."
Sigh.


I do have a second date tonight with a Match guy I met for drinks last week. Blaaah. Don't I sound SO excited???  I have to say, I think he is a seriously GOOD GUY. Perhaps this is why I am not that into it? But he's taking me on an actual dinner date tonight, and I think I need to keep an open mind about it. Plus, this guy actually told me how he really loves and respects "strong, independent women." Wow. Is he a unicorn or a dragon? 
So, we'll see.  I don't even have a name for him yet because he's just so...normal. [seeming].


I will keep you posted. Meanwhile, stay classy out there. Or don't. I won't judge.
xo

HAPPY FRIGGIN' NEW YEAR!!

twenty one-one!!!


whoa. that sounds weird. It's not going to be easy to start writing that on stuff.  


anyway, welcome back pretty lil' readers.  Have you missed me?  Cause I've missed me!  It's so crazy how far-removed I felt from "my life" whilst on my west coast adventure.  I am very excited to be back and even more interested to see what's going on with what I'm now referring to as The Line-Up. But first, New Year's Eve.


I went to this same party last year with bestie Jendel and her bf G. It's a huge party in the Valley thrown by a friend of theirs, complete with tons o' happy drinks, catering, heat lamps, music and wild debauchery.  This year, there had to be well over 300 people there! Last year, I had my ex-bf, Champ, with me.  During the course of the night, he proceeded to get really sick [not drunk, just like the flu or something random] and he also proceeded to act like a COMPLETE immature donkey's ass and embarrassed the crap out of me. [Note to self: always recall this night when wondering if breaking up was bad idea.] 

Blingin' in the New Year

The gang always goes to a pre-party first at a friend's we'll call Brooklyn Boy. He's a pretty adorable, tall, funny, and half-jewish [that's fun for you, mom!] guy who I totally had a spark of chemistry with last year.  But, seeing as I was with Champ, it really made no difference. Funny enough, once I broke up with Champ I asked Jendel what was going on with Brooklyn Boy and, ironically, he had asked her bf G about me.  So, we then became FB friends but have had very limited interaction.  Rightly so, as we live on different coasts at the moment.
Obviously, I was really looking forward to THIS year, seeing as I am now SINGLE.  But alas, Brooklyn Boy wasn't. Or mostly wasn't.  He's basically semi-dating "Princess Jasmine" [my name for her] but he doesn't really like her much.  Um, I wouldn't either!  Homegirl is annoying as SHIT.  As in, immature, bragadocious and all-around trying too hard.  But she was in attendance on New Year's, which meant 2011 NYE would not be the year for me and Brooklyn Boy.  HOWEVER-- we did get a little chit-chatting in before she got to his pre-party and the witty, sarcastic banter was going back and forth quite nicely.  So much so, that apparently, I impressed Brooklyn Boy (as relayed to me by excellent spies!).  Said spies also informed me that Brooklyn Boy mentioned the 4 of us should all do dinner the next time I'm in town for work.  Yeeehaw!  Just layin' the groundwork here.  This could actually be something someday...
  Meanwhile, back at the party, I noticed that it was 11:30p and I had yet to connect with my midnight kissing victim.  Seeing as Brooklyn Boy was off playing Aladdin somewhere, I realized I needed to get crackin!  At a party with that many people, it was just silly to think that there would be no one to smooch at zero hour, so I did a quick scan. Voila! 3 pretty cute boys standing near the taco truck (yes, there was a TACO TRUCK!).  So, I went in.  Held court with all 3 for a bit. Did a quick time check and realized something needed to be done.  That's when I decided to hone in on the cutest one and tell him he was coming to get a drink with me. Done! He obliged and that was that.  We chatted about music for a bit, the countdown happened, and we had a nice long makeout session at the buzzer. Funny enough, he was the best kisser I've met in a LONG time.  Why funny? Because he gave me his card before he and friends went to another party and somehow it didn't make it home with me.  I'm honestly not sad at all.  He definitely served a purpose!  But he was a cute, sweet guy and a great way to start off the new year! Maybe all the bad kissing karma of '10 is officially gone?  Fingers crossed.  Oh, yeah- and, you're welcome, random guy.  If I hadn't aggressively approached your crew, you would've all been awkwardly high-fiving each other and avoiding eye contact at midnight.  
Also, here is the only pic I managed to take the whole night at the party:  

Take a bite out of 2011. [awesome.]

The rest of the night consisted of me deciding, at around 2a, to take a "nap" on a chair in one of the rooms.  Luckily, I had the not-sober-smarts enough to text my friends and alert them, so as to not get stranded in the Valley.  Even a drunk New Yorker knows enough to do that!  Goal for next year: 1) kiss Brooklyn Boy  2) Stay awake for whole party.
It's important to have goals, after all.


And now I'm back in the big dirty snowy apple.  So far, The Chef wins the award for best start to 2011.  He texted me Happy New Year last night and already asked me out for this week.  For the youngest of the bunch, he is amazingly cool and mature!
Been wondering about SoCal, though.  I feel like, since he's also on Match.com, he's probably serial dating right now.  Who knows where I fall in his line-up, since I've been gone for a week. Maybe I fell to the end of the line?!  But he did text me tonight to say hi.  Although no asking for plans though, which makes me think he's just doing a little "maintenance."  Ah well.  I also had a brief IM chat with The Streak, who I'm beginning to wonder if he was drunk/all talk when he sent me that note about wanting to hang out with me.  He's a tough, streaky cookie, that Streak.
Anyway, you're up to man-date {ooh! new fun word smush!}. 

And now, for some resolutions!

Party less. Exercise more.

Write a new song.

Take an amazing, unique trip somewhere.

See more movies that make me think.

Go to museums. Regularly.

Run a 5K.

Call parents and sister. Regularly!

Cook good food. 

Drink good wine.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep!

Happy 2011 to all!  I hope it's an incredible year for everyone.  Do YOU have any resolutions?

Dating story #49, From Boulder to Peru.

I'm still reeling from all the comments on my last post!
They were hilarious.
Endearing.
Harsh.
Honest.
TMI [=Too Much Info]
And about 89 more adjectives.
I loved them all!
Yes, even the harsh ones.  Hey, you're entitled to your opinion. And I'm entitled to tell you to F off.
But, I won't. Because you don't go through a marriage, divorce, another break-up, 8 insane months of dating like a mad-woman, and 11 years in the boys club that is the creative ad game and not end up with a Teflon-like epidermis.  
That's right people. I'm pretty tough. I can take it [most of the time. no guarantees if I'm on my menses.]
And, don't worry. This weekend, I got right back on that horse. Or, should I say caballo...?


Recently, I decided I was over Match dating. It was a fun little experiment in the beginning, and lately, I haven't been even looking at it.  I'm just one of those customers they really like that keeps auto-renewing their membership because they're too busy/lazy/forgetful to remember to cancel it. So I keep getting billed for services that I'm not only not using, but that are also ANNOYING me.
My mom would be SO disappointed in me!
Why annoying? I get a few emails or "winks" [ugh, please. I'd rather get "stabs." What guy "winks?" Losers.] a day and they are generally terrible and a waste of my time and inbox space.  Especially when you have a smart phone (or UNsmart phone in my case) and you get pissed off every time something like that makes it vibrate during the work day.
So I finally cancelled my membership.
But those damn marketing geniuses at Match have it figured out.  See, if you cancel before your subscription expires, they start promoting you like CRAZY on the site. Exposing you to more people than ever before. So, instead of getting less emails, I got a MOUNTAIN of them. My phone was buzzing enough to qualify as a battery-operated pleasure device! Ridic.
But, I guess if the quantity is higher, the odds of finding more decent people is too.  So a few not-as-losery prospects began to emerge.  One, in particular, was Peru. He seemed tall, athletic and good-looking in his pics.  And, I liked what he had to say.  So we began emailing and finally got to the point of talking about meeting up.  However Peru, being 40 and not an immature dipshit, thought it would be a good idea to CALL and speak before doing so.  25 year olds, TAKE NOTE!
So we had a quick but easy chat where I discovered he has a very thick accent, but he seemed cool and charming, so we met up Saturday night for drinks at my emerging fave, Casa Mezcal.
It was a hot, sultry, humid night. Perfect for hair and not-sweating. But I walked in and Peru was already at the bar, and, even better-looking than his pics. Phew.  
I know Boulder Boy turned out to be an absolute doucheburger, but shitgoddamn, he was so freakin' handsome. So it's going to be hard for anyone who follows to not pale in comparison. Luckily, Peru is not pale. He's a nice warm caramel with kind eyes to go along with it. And, I proceeded to have a really good time with him. Along with, approximately, 4 cucumber margaritas. ¡Ole!
He was very easy to talk to, and loved that I could speak spanish back to him (before margarita 3.5 that is).  He's your typical romantic, passionate Latin man. Hard-working, loves his family, food, dancing and showered me with compliments.  Apparently blue eyes really do it for Peru! 
And, somehow he even convinced me to go DANCING with him.
Now don't get me wrong, I heart dancing. I grew up taking dance from pretty much the minute I could walk with stability.  But going dancing with a guy I just met is a whole other story. Until, that is, I was talked into drinking possibly the strongest Caipirinha I've ever been given. I'm pretty sure there was lighter fluid in there. But it was effective! So he got me salsa dancing with him and eventually, making out while doing so.  How was it?  My first thought: 

That's right. Something to the effect of Hungry Hungry Hippos. 
I feared for the fate of my face. So, yes, not quite "ideal." But it did improve slightly.  Until Peru decided to fall very quickly in like with me and say things like "Leendsy, I like ju. I want to date ju."
Eek! Slow down, turbo.  But I was pretty drunky drunk at this point and just assumed he was too.  And, I was having some much-needed fun, so I decided to just go with it.  I'm glad I did.  At around 3am we returned to my domicile, both sweaty messes.  Before either of us could proceed I demanded that we both take [separate] showers.  If I wanted sweaty dates, I'd conduct them at Bikram Yoga.  So we got cleaned up and segued into slumber party land.  Like I said, Peru is mucho affectionate and sweet.  It felt nice to just be held and cared about, instead of held and then douched upon.
Even though Sunday was Easter Sunday, I am a) a Jew and b) nothing makes one immune to an impending high-stakes new business pitch, so that meant work on sunday!  But at least not until the afternoon.  So, Peru and I set out to get some brunch before I went back to the salt mines for the day. 
Lately, I've been dreaming about eggs benedict at my favorite teeny, tiny LES spot, Zucco le French Diner. It's been deemed a "French truck stop" and I must say, the food there is EPIC, especially the eggs benny. And when I say this place is small, I'm not kidding.  It's mostly bar seating plus like 3 tiny tables.  You also have no idea whether or not it's going to be open that day. Ah, the French! 
So, Peru and I strolled up and I saw people dining outside. Success!  

Until....hoping to see open seats inside, I poked my head in just past the doorframe and WHAM-O!
Dining at the bar facing the door [I've included a pic so you can see just how close that is to the door/how tiny the resto is], was my scorned, angry ex-bf, Champ.  
"AH!" I exclaimed and JUMPED away from the door. 
"¿Que paso?" asked Peru.
"Umm...we cannot go in there. Ex-boyfriend. Sorry." 
Luckily, he was cool, didn't seem to think I was insane and we walked off.  
But I must say, c'mon, CHAMP!  You a-hole, don't you know the rules of break-up?  
That is MY spot.
In MY neighborhood.
That you wouldn't even know about if not for ME.
Ugggh.  So, thinking fast, we proceeded to 'inoteca.  Part of me feared running into Teca there (of course), but it's been so long and we're cool with each other. Plus, wouldn't be too terrible if I had to see him looking cute with a strapping Peruvian at my side, would it?  Luckily, I didn't have to wonder since he wasn't working that shift.  
Peru and I had a lovely brunch, he's a total gentleman continuously lavishing me in compliments, refusing to let me pay etc.  Yet, I couldn't wait to say good-bye to him and head off to work. Sooo.....yeah. Guess that should be an indicator, huh?  I hate to say it, but I just really don't see my self ending up with one of the foreigns.  They are awesome in so many ways, but when it comes to getting my wacko sense of humor and sarcasm, something just falls short.  It sucks, but at least I know now that's something that really attracts me to someone.  
After working for several hours, I finally got back home to a text from my friend S who also works at 'inoteca.  I met her through Teca last summer and we clicked from the start.  I don't see her often because she's also a vampire, but we still keep in touch and had tentative plans for Sunday night.  So I ended up meeting up with her and friends BACK at 'inoteca, where they had been downing vino since about 4p. It was nice to kick back and just hang out. I need a work/life balance, no matter how exhausted I am!
I learned from S that Teca: no longer works at 'inoteca as of recently AND now lives with Hairy Pits. UGH. I guess love really IS blind. Anyway, they dragged me to Barramundi for more drinks and finally, at about 12:15a I had to go home so I wouldn't be total roadkill at work Monday.  But, get this:
Monday afternoon, I get a text from S:  "Teca literally walked into Barramundi SECONDS after you left last night!" 
Omg. I potentially almost ran into TWO ex's in the same day.  Is Mercury in retrograde or WHAT?  I have to say, I would've actually liked to have run into Teca, would've been nice to see him and catch up. Oh well, probably bound to happen soon. 
This is my life currently. 
Actually, THIS is my life:  
Yesterday, fed up with feeling like I have to bolt if I ever run into Champ, I decided to write him a friendly email.  I basically just said that I've seen him several times and I'm not sure if he's seen me, but I've been hesitant to approach him, unsure of his comfort level and reaction, so I thought, hey- we're both mature adults, right? So I just wanted to reach out and  see if we could be friends yet.
He responded. Let's just say apparently only ONE of us is a mature adult.  The other is a baby man-child with not much interest in being anything besides "cordial/strangers." I'll let you deduce who's who in this scenario.


Dear Universe,
Please send some goodness my way, stat.  And by "goodness," I do not mean the buckets of fried cuisine and contraband Girl Scout cookies you've sent so far.
Thank you,
Lindsey

My Bizarre Un-love Triangle

Happy FRIDAY, Glamazons!!!!


I've had a very interesting week, to say the least.  It was loaded with concerts, a stomach bug, and bestie Jendel in town staying with me all during it.


An incident occurred whilst at Florence & The Machine at Terminal 5, my worst enemy of a venue.  It's huge, always oversold (therefore always a crowded shite-show), not to mention it's on 56th street and appx 85th avenue. [Read: Far effing west.  Like falling-in-the-Hudson-almost-in-Jerz WEST].  Yet, they get all the best bands. So, like a moron, I keep going. And, Tuesday night was PAAACKED to see Flo and her machines. Also, Flo in her leotard, cape and crown.   

I was with BFWB who said she reminded him of a fairy and My Little Pony.  He was pretty correct.  He was also correct in warning me to not attend this show since my stomach had been killing me for FOUR days.  I figured I could stand still and watch a spectacular show for an hour and survive. I thought wrong.  Cut to me telling BFWB that I needed to leave. Cut to that being my last memory before I woke up on the floor. Of T5. Surrounded by a schmillion people.  Oops.  Thank GOD for BFWB, who is my hero and basically saved my life by making people move so he could get me out of there.  Once out, I was fine, except for my left foot which someone must've stepped on. Who knows.  I'm happy to be alive, happy my parents don't read this blog, and happy my doctor (and x-rays) all say I'm fine.
So...the next night I had tix to see The Duke Spirit, a little-known Brit band I've loved for years, introduced to me by my Ex-hubs who had excellent taste in music [and not much else]. I'm totes 'cessed with their lead singer, Leila Moss.  

Despite the trauma of the night before, I was feeling pretty good (except for my club-foot) and figured this was a small venue, near my apt, so if anything went wrong bad, I could just peace out. As my friend Mitz and I were working our way up closer, I felt good about things. The venue was small, not packed. All seemed well. Until I looked right and saw Champ, my scorned ex-boyfriend that I broke up with this summer. He was a decent distance away, but I could clearly see him.  Which I figured meant he could clearly see ME.  We went through a lot of bad stuff recently, him trying to get answers, him trying to understand things, and him doing a lot of what I like to call "taking a dump in my inbox."  This is when someone writes an emotional monologue of an e-mail and leaves it waiting for you to open like a stinky diaper bomb.  It's neat-o.  Although he had an "epiphany" recently and seems to have mellowed out about things and been nicer.  SO- I decided to shoot him a text so it wouldn't be totally awky in case we actually ended up running into each other on the way out.  I texted him asking if he was at Duke Spirit and playfully wrote "I think I seeee yoooou...."  I watched him receive this message and write me back, yet instead of saying he saw me, to inform me that Ex-hubs was ALSO there. Hot diggitity DAMN!  Hello, Bizarre Un-Love Triangle. How we all ended up at this tiny venue to see this random band may appear random, but actually, we were all there because Ex-hubs introduced me to this band and I introduced Champ. Ex-hubs doesn't usually go out that much, but it would only make sense for him to be there since tickets were $5.  That's about as much as he would deem pretty much anything in life to be worth.  Fun, huh?!  
I could've lingered and watched it all play out, but I decided enough drama had unfolded that week and it was time to Michael Bolt-on outta there.  Bummer too because, as my friend Mitz pointed out, there were tons of cute, AA guys there! 
{sigh}
Aaaaand...forward march onto the next--which will be tonight!  Date with a seemingly hot, tall, former tennis-pro with a German accent.  NBD, right?

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. 

Hello, hotness

Hello, Joel

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 love SoCal, 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.

Dating story #56, Death by Dating.

Okay. So you probably hate me.
I haven't posted in 10 days. 
I'm sorry!
But posting takes time, and I haven't had any of that.  So hopefully, you're still sticking around, holding out the slightest of hopes that I'll give you a little somethin' somethin' to read.
Well, pretties, you're in luck! Hunker down, though. This is gonna be a long one. I had to pee TWICE while writing it! Then again, I have a bladder the size of a cashew.


Let's back that ass up to last week, shall we?


I'd like to introduce you to The JEWeler.  
Another "gem" (haha) from Match.com, he found me a few weeks ago and we began emailing.  Turns out, he's tall-ish, seemingly attractive, is AA, likes tennis and is a first gen American Russian Jew.  Interesting enough, plus his emails were very funny so we had a nice banter going on. He even CALLED on the PHONE. Yes, apparently phones can actually do this thing where you dial and can SPEAK to someone! Who knew.
We had a nice, easy conversation so he asked me out for last Wednesday night. Of course, first I had to stop at MIM's apt for a Mary Kay makeup party. Yes, I'm being serious.  Very interesting, I must say!  And her friend, Erika, who is the rep was abFab and we had a blast. Then, I hauled my cookies back downtown to meet The JEWeler at my favorite local bar, Mother's Ruin. A good friend just opened it a half block away from my apt. I've taken to calling it "Lindsey's Ruin." Or maybe it should be "Liver's Ruin." FML. 
Anyway, The JEWeler looked about the same, if not slightly cuter than his pics, except for an unfortunate amount of hair gel shellacking that hair in place. What did his hair ever do to deserve that?  It took a lot of restraint, especially a few cocktails in, to not reach over and just mess it up.
The conversation was easy, fun, good and I could tell he was into me.  I wasn't totally sure how I felt but would have been open to a goodnight kiss to help me with that one.  Until, of course, it came up in a story of his that he doesn't kiss on the first date. He says he thinks "it shows restraint."  I asked if it could also show disinterest and/or gayness.  He laughed. 
So at the end of our looong night of drinks, he walked me to my door and I took his hand and have him a nice curtsey.  HA! Take that, restraint man.
Many texts were exchanged the next day and a second date was set up for Sunday when I returned from Kismet, Fire Island, aka the bestest beach evaaa.


The Beach:


Some towns in Fire Island are full of fist-pumping a-holes looking to hook up. My town, however, is not like that. There's only 2 bar/restos, and we only go to one of them [The INN] and shun the other 'cause it's magically douchetastic. But I love how chill and laid-back it is out there, and I almost NEVER put makeup on, which really tells you something.  The beach, historically, has never been a hookup spot for me. Then again, I realized last summer I was in a house with mostly couples and Champ, before I broke up with him and MIM inherited most of his weekends. Let's just say that this summer is proving itself DRASTICALLY different. There's a lot of singles, we all enjoy our drinking, plus BFWB is a partial share in the house and therefore the instigator of most shenanigans. 
This past weekend we made our way to the INN at the usual time to discover they've started up having bands play on Saturday night.  Bored with conversation outside and also with being leered at by salty old semi-toothless men, I decided to go inside and watch the music.  I just sat down on a chair nearby and enjoyed watching the old fart cover band rock out, when a very good-looking, strapping tall guy offered me his hand to dance with him. Um...OK! He had bright blue eyes and dark hair. He also had, unfortunately, madras shorts on. But I decided I could overlook them for the greater guy package which was good-looking AND likes to dance. The best part? He has a total (Irish) girl's name and makes no apologies for it. So, me n' Girl's Name cut a mean rug around the dance floor for quite awhile. Oooh yeah, it was on. Plus his friends (all married/in relationships/short) were super fun and Girl's Name loaned me out to dance a few dances with them.  One, in particular who was roughly as strong as an ox, decided to pick me up and spin me around.  Now, I'm 5'9. I am very not accustomed to this happening and it often freaks me out. But, I could tell this ox was not going to drop me.  I could also tell that my denim miniskirt was inching up by the second. By the time he put me down, the entire crowd at The INN was definitely privvy to details of my Hanky Panky's and my ass-cheeks.  Y'welcome, The INN!
After we had enough dancefloorness, we headed back to my house to jam with BFWB since Girl's Name also plays some geetar. After about an hour of that it was getting late and I was getting the feeling that this boy could play all night. Hello, when was it going to be make-out time?  So I devised an excellent plan that involved me saying "I'm going to the beach now!"  
Simplistic? Yes. Effective? Very.
So Girl's Name and I went to snuggle up on the beach and get our smooch on.  Only, upon seeing a truck's headlights, we feared we'd be kicked off the beach so we relocated near the dunes. That's where the sand fleas HAD THEIR WAY WITH US.  Seriously. Those f'kers made a meal out of us and came back for more!
Time to leave the beach pronto, but...where to do?  When you're doing a summer share, you don't exactly have your own room and even the living room is generally occupied.  This left only one option: The outdoor shower.
Classy AND refreshing, right?
We had a nice, showery makeout fest until the hot water ran out and the sun began to rise.  That was pretty much the end of it, but he got my digits since we were both going to be around on the beach sunday.
I can definitely say I've never stayed out until that hour in Kismet. Usually, I go to sleep so early I get and run at 7am because I'm awake and bored!  
Welcome to the summer of ZERO SLEEP.
Crikey.
True to his word, GN hit me up around 1pm and we met up for awhile. Thankfully, he looked even hotter, sans madras shorts and plus a visor. Why do I have a thing for guys with visors?? It must be some strange Texas thing, but I find it soo HOT! Weird.
I figured I'd sleep off my exhaustion on the beach, but BFWB had other plans in store, mostly made up of NONSTOP. CHATTERING. FOR. HOURS.
Ahhh.
Ironically, GN ended up on the same ferry as us back to the train station. Since he had met/partied with all of us the night before, you would've thought he'd be happy to see us and talkative. However, he was basically the opposite. Definitely not "rude" per se, but very obviously in no mood to really chat with us (or me) on the short trip back.  Which is always exactly what you hope for the day after you've shower made-out with someone! 
Whatever.
You have a girl's name. 
HA!


I headed back to the city for date #2 with The JEWeler, wondering how I would keep my eyes open.
At least, I told myself, it's a sunday night and an earlyish date, so I should be in bed by 11 or so. 
WRONG.
This Ruski can friggin' DRINK. And somewhere along the way, I got a second wind.  Plus, I was waiting for a kiss to seal his fate.  Unluckily for me, it took him till about 2am and many taunts of "I'm going to have to go to sleep soon" before he finally made his move. A SLOWASS move, at that. Seriously, even his approach towards my face seemed to be in slo-mo. WTF?
I will say the actual kiss itself was quite good. Like, really good. But I'm still weirded by the lead-up to it.  I need a guy to be much more assertive and deliberate about his actions. 
Not sure if I'll see The JEWeler again, but we're both going away for the 4th of July, so we'll have to see what goes down when everyone is back.


In other news...


Our dear friend (and one of your faves!), 6'4 has been hitting me up on gChat. For those not in the know [shame on you!] it's Gmail's version of instant messaging. Because he and I had exchanged a lot of emails back and forth, gmail automatically puts people into your buddy chat list. I didn't realize this and, because his name is about 1 letter different than BFWB's, I wrote him thinking I was writing BFWB, whom I chat with all day, every day. Once I realized I had done it, I was horrified! But, lo and behold, he wrote back. I had to explain the message, which was about rehearsing and therefore made no sense to him, and the whole name mix-up. He asked me how I was and we chatted a bit. And then I signed off like a champ, hopefully leaving him wanting more.
It worked.
He's been hitting me up ALL week.  I never initiate the conversation. And a few days this week we have chatted back and forth almost the entire day about a myriad of topics. Toward the end, it got pretty flirty, but not dirty. I do like that about him. There's a very fine line and he knows exactly where that is. Plus he's smart, articulate, well-read and incredibly ambitious. Not to mention HOT. HOT. HOOOTTT. 
You'll be proud to know I kind of let him have it, in a funny way of course, about us only going on that one date. Kind of like "what's the point of this?"  He seems to think, with conviction, that we'll be seeing each other again for sure.  So I replied, "Well, that is as long as you ask your girlfriend/wife/sister wives for a hall pass."
Yes, I agree with all of you readers/commenters that something strange is happening here.  He's too young to be married, I have seen his FB page and there's just really no way that's possible.  
Of course, a girlfriend IS possible.  He did tell me he moved to a 300sqft studio in Long Island City, so, assuming that's true, he's definitely not co-habitating with anyone.  Who knows. I've decided to not think about it that much because it's mostly just frustrating.  
He gets me kinda hot and bothered and I don't appreciate that!


Especially how he did it before I got to go to a small, intimate 4 acoustic song performance at Vanessa Carlton's Soho loft. Yeah, I did. No bigz.
(It was AMAZING!)
I have no idea how I managed to get on the list for this event, but it was incredibly cool to be about 8ft away from her playing and singing on her baby grand piano.  The best part?  I was introduced to her and a photographer took a group shot. But, knowing I'd never see that photo, I asked if I could get a pic with her with my own camera.  Awkward pause.
Followed by...
Awkward pause.
Followed by..."Ok."
Here's how happy she was to pose for that pic:

When I finally looked at the pic later on in the evening, I almost wet myself!

Aren't celebs supposed to, you know, pretend to be excited about their fans? Especially when they're in their HOUSE?

I also just discovered on Wikipedia that she came out as a bisexual a few years ago. Now I'm super offended that she 

a) didn't want to pose with me 

b) didn't hit on me.

RUDE.

Well chickadees, that's it for now. I'm off to put the ASS into ASSpen tomorrow. I'm meeting my family there, so I don't expect many dating situations to occur (unless my mom forces me into them, which is ENTIRELY possible), but I will have my trusty computer with me, just in case.

As uneventful as it may be, at least I can get some sleep and take a break from the sauce. 

I swear, my dating life just might be the death of me.

Love, Hugs, fireworks and Independence to all of you!

xo

BeautyFull Friday: Clean as a Cucumber

Happy fah-reaking Friday, my friends!


Awhile back, one of you lovelies commented that you'd like me to talk about my skin care products.  While you can imagine the inside of my medicine cabinet(s) roughly resembles a Duane Reade, I do have a few staples that I've been using for years.  One in particular that's done me very right over the years is this:

FRESH SOY FACE CLEANSER

I have sensy skin, not to mention sometimes acne-prone and I am always rocking some form of makeup. This stuff is gentle and effective, plus it has natural cucumber and rose, so it smells great.  You can also even pour some on a cotton pad and use it as an eye makeup remover.  Not bad. And, it lasts for awhile and is finally also avail at Sephora.  I'm a fan.  It's been my go-to cleanser for a looong time now.


What's up in MANland, you ask?


Well, early this week was the AICP awards, commonly referred to as "ad prom." It's a gigantic, private affair at the MoMa, which is a pretty awesome location to get to take over.  The even also serves as a "ghosts of advertising past" for most of us, as you see almost everyone you've ever known in the industry. Fun, exhausting, overwhelming, drunk times galore.  And, of course, who do you think I saw there?
My ex bf, Champ, of course!  
[weee!]
At least this was an even I expected, hell, even anticipated seeing him at. And of course I saw him right off the bat, as I was going inside for my first cocktail with some friends to avoid the extreme heat/makeup-meltage.  I literally walked in, saw him and went "Well, guess I'm headed back out doors!  Where it's not at all one schmillion degrees of steam heat."  But it was just too sparse inside at that point to be standing right near him at a bar. I was not in the mood [read not nearly juiced up enough] to deal with such moments of awkyness.  
It just sucks that he won't talk to me or even look at me for that matter.  Oh well. His loss.  And, my gain since every time it just confirms breaking up was the right thing to do.  Here's a pic I have no recollection of taking with my friend, B, who's a total wild-woman.  Commonly referred to as "Big Red" due to her statuesque height and fiery tresses. I've dubbed the look she's giving here "Red Steel."  Classic.


As for dudes, I've pretty much written 6'4 off.  He can continue on his slow boat to China.  I live near enough to Chinatown anyway.  I'm so over these lame, non-proactive morons who claim to like me and then half-Houdini on me.  LATERZ!!
Feeling very over it all, I went to work out after work and then decided I felt antsy and not ready to go home alone and shop for whatever cats my future spinster self may be acquiring.  So, I went to a co-worker's going away party in the Meatpacking District. Sure, it's usually a meatmarket over there and one full of 20-something meats, but whatev.  Expectations managed, I set off over there , in the rain with hardly any makeup on. And, not giving a shit about it! A rare but awesome gift I sometimes give myself. 
Most of the bar was exactly as I expected but over near my friends I spotted a guy, amidst a group of "shirts" (aka I-bankers and the like), who had veered off from his friends, engrossed in the NBA finals game.  I was interested in, not only the game since a Texas team is involved, but also in the guy. He was cute!  
Such an easy way in. Almost too easy.
He turned out to be pretty adorable and we talked/watched the game for almost 2+ hours.  We'll call him Mav. Mav and I were having one hell of a flirtfest, not to mention he couldn't believe a chick "could be that sexy and funny." Oh wee!  He pretty much showered  me in compliments, and in a totally non-douchey way.  I was definitely into this. PLUS, he turned out to be totally AA- 35!!! However Mav is dealing with a recent break-up from a 7 year relationship and was getting blown up by his ex for some reason or another. He was being very transparent about it all and I couldve cared less, but wasn't so into dealing with drama.  His crazy friend, Crazy B, was having side talks with him where I could tell the gist was "Yo dude. Your ex is f'king psycho and this chick is HOT. Make out with her. NOW (I actually heard those words) and stop dealing with psycho."
The three of us ended up bouncing to another bar [my new hotspot, since my friend took over a bar literally 2 seconds from my apt. DANGEROUS].  On the way over there, sandwiched between both boys, Crazy B decided to start nibbling on my shoulder.  I saw RIGHT away where this was going and shut it down with a simple "Um, this is in NO way, shape or form going to be a 3-some situation, mkay?"  FYI, that was never Mav's agenda, but I could sure see it was on the top of Crazy B's crazy list. Shut. That. Down!
Maybe the 3 of us stayed out till 3am.
Ended up drinking back at my apt.
And they both passed out there. In separate areas, I should add.


It was a wild and fun night. Mav is an excellent kisser [finally!] and the whole thing was a serious ego boost/funk-breaker.  I think I needed that.


Now, I need a nap.  And perhaps a seriously greasy cheeseburger.


Happy weekend-ing my frieeeendz!


xo