So at this point I had made my return to NYC from my little trip to Cuse. I was back in action and ready once again to take on NYC. Except my first Friday night in town I had no plans. I headed home after work, mildly content with the idea of staying in that night. After about an hour putzing around my apartment I wanted out. I had texted Ibanker (we were once again talking) to see if he wanted to hang out. No response. I wasn't pleased. Luckily around 10, when I was just at my wit's end, I received a text from one of the interns I had worked with. He was from Syracuse as well and we had figured out that we had gone to the same high school. I hadn't known him then because he was a freshman when I was a senior. We had buddied up however and he inquired what I was doing that night. Nothing. Yet. I invited him to come out to the beer garden near my apartment and was surprised when he actually agreed. I sat around for awhile longer until he finally arrived around 1 am, solo and drunk. We walked over and proceeded to sit there, yapping about god knows what and drinking beers the size of our face. We were the last people to leave the bar and we then decided to obviously get food. We walked around the desolute neighborhood in the exact opposite direction of the 24 hour diner a block away from my apartment. I almost had heart attack laughing when I came very close to stepping on a dead crow in the middle of the road and also invited myself to his camp near Syracuse for over the summer. He seemed fairly nervous that I would actually show up. I then came to the realization that we should've gone to the diner in question so we turned around and headed there. As we walked in I announced that the last time I was here I had (almost) puked in the bathroom (the night of BK and JW in town). Luckily I did not this time--I kept my eggs down and even was able to witness the start of a domestic violence incident in the table next to ours.
Upon leaving I assumed that High School would just take the subway home but no no. He wanted to keep drinking and not knowing what else to do (it was 4 am) I said that we could have a drink at my apartment. And not wanting to be anywhere else in my apartment we sat in my room. Now High School has a girlfriend--he has never told me directly but it is displayed on facebook. So why he was in another's girl bedroom at 4 in the morning seemed a bit sketch. I was not sure how to approach this situation and since I had just suffered a big-time rejection I was in no state to put myself out there. Too bad since I had a 23 year old alone in my room but I did not sit on the bed with him and kept going through facebook pictures and blabbing to distract myself. This went on until 6am when he finally decided to leave. Good idea since it was already light out and he didn't seem to be making any moves. So at least now I am not a homewrecker.
I slept basically all of the next day until I had to get up and get ready for my Saturday night. I was meeting some of the other interns (High School didn't end up making it...baby) for dinner and a night out. Ever since eating the most delish pho of my life in Germany I had been wanting to get more. So I had successfully convinced some of the other interns to try it with me. I met one of them, JM, at a museum where she worked on the weekends to walk to the pho place in Chinatown. I was not quite sure how to get there--I kept walking and the street looked suddenly familliar. I looked up and directly across from was Ibanker's bedroom windown. Ahhhh! I walked as quickly as I could--what if he looked out and saw me there, like a stalker?? I made it by then realized I had gone the wrong way and had to turn around, walking by it again! Chances are he was not there but after he had never responded to my text to hang out I figured I shouldn't be creeping around outside his apartment. I finally made it to meet JM and we walked roughly half the length of the island of Manhattan to the restuarant. Another intern (codename-Denim) and her boyfriend met us for dinner. I was very disappointed with the pho but enjoyed the dinner nonetheless. We then walked to the second place I wanted to try--Painkiller Tiki Bar. This was an extremely dark and narrow bar with extremely expensive and strong frozen cocktails. I was pleased. After some time there we decided to yet another place I wanted to try--Revision Lounge, which supposedly had coffins you could sit in (perhaps a foreshadowing of where my lifestyle is leading me??). Upon arrival of course we could not enter the coffin room because of a private party (bitches) so were forced to sit in the front, which was just an average bar. Except at first it seemed to be filled with lesbians but as the night progressed it became packed with finance bros, he paid no attention to me. JM decided to catch her train back to Long Island but I stayed to third-wheel it with Denim and her boyfriend. They decided to go to a club/bar near NYU and I followed. As soon as I walked in I knew it wasn't my scene--I was about 45 years old compared to everyone else there and my night before had started to catch up with me. I was in no mood for dancing. I felt like I was 19 again with Judgers partying at GW bars. I stood with the two of them being awkward. I noticed that one of the guys there looked familiar--after some pondering I realized that he was one of the guys in the apartment where I had met Miami about a month before. I debated saying hi then realized I didn't feel like dealing with. I decided to leave and Im sure Denim and her bf were relieved.
The next day I wandered through Central Park alone. When I returned home I decided it was time to give Ibanker a piece of my mind--no response to my text, no way buddy. So I sent one to him with just one word- "rude". He immediately responded, confused. I said that he didn't respond to me and he forwarded me the text he had sent me, inviting me out with him and the other Ibankers. He retorted that I had never responded to him. My phone never got it. Oops. I felt a bit dumb but I was at least glad that he hadn't ignored me. I played it off with a lame joke and decided we were on speaking terms again.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Cuse Background Part 1
Let's rewind a bit here, so that I may give you some background on my life in the Cuse last fall. It was two weeks after my return from Europe and I was still reeling. I hadn't left the house much since I had been back and luckily Mairey, being a good friend, decided to drag me out for a night on the town to cheer me up. I agreed since all I was doing was obsessively checking facebook, and decided being away from a computer would do me some good. I volunteered to drive since I knew I couldn't get drunk (would def cry). I had also invited my German friend Cardi along--she had been my helper while I was in Hamburg and now she was in Syracuse, doing her exchange semester. She is barely 21, innocent and blonde. Mairey is one of the most sociable girls I know and I was looking pretty good in a new dress, due to all the weight I'd lost. We were doomed from the start.
We went straight to a new bar that had opened, King of Clubs. Not 10 seconds after we had walked in the door, a guy approached us and asked if we wanted to join their table. I rolled my eyes at the same time Mairey said yes. Thankfully she did as they really did have a table, filled to the brim with champagne and grey goose and surrounded by SU law guys. I couldn't believe I was actually in Syracuse. We walked over and they immediately pounced. There were about 8 of them and half took a special liking to Cardi. I felt bad for her but she held her own. I sat on the couch chatting with a particularly good-looking one, though not my type at all; I was surprised he was actually talking to me. We all spent the night drinking champage (only a couple glasses for me), while the guys harassed Cardi and I did a pretty good job at being socialable. I was excited because a few of them were going to be at the giant electro fest I was going to in NYC the next weekend (spoiler-- we never met up). Judgers showed up at one point as well and one of the guys drifted from Cardi to her. Around last call the guy I had been talking to asked for my number and invited us back to one of the guy's apartments for an after-party. We agreed and he then conned me into giving him and the guy who had been talking to Mairey a ride there. We walked into the apartment and were greeted by an ungodly sight--one of the guys had his shirt off, his gut almost pulling down his pants, and was dancing and rapping along to some song. I immediately loved that this was Cardi's first week in the US and this was her introduction to going out in Syracuse. We stayed for a bit, I ate a burrito with my law school guy and then I decided it was time to cart everyone home.
This was not the end of these guys, oh no. When I thought the night was over, Mairey apparently met her guy out again after I dropped her off. She went back to his place and he apparently spent the whole night begging for a blow job. They never spoke again. Judgers took her guy's offer of a dinner date seriously and allowed him to take her out. When they went back to his place after to watch a movie, he stripped down to his boxers. She shot him down and they never spoke again. Cardi resisted from the beginning and never spoke to any of them again.
Then there's me. My law school guy never called and I figured it was a no-go. Then he saw me out at a show a few months later. It was good timing for him as I was to the point where I needed to be over Frenchy, no matter what the cost. We hooked up twice and have never spoken again, aside from the occassional drunk text. Now he is in NYC and I dread the day when I see him out. Or do I?
Follow-up: Our second, seperate incident with different SU law school guys. This was about a month before I left for NYC and is a night which boosts my confidence when I think of it. I feel as though stuff like this doesn't happen often and one needs to bask in it when it does so here I go. Mairey and I had decided at the last minute to head downtown on this Thursday night. She was coming by to get me so I dressed in a hurry--I kept the turtleneck on which I had worn to my job at the coffee chain and reeked like, well, coffee. I put on a high-waisted 80s skirt and some lacy black tights. This wasn't exactly a come-hither outfit but I was proved wrong. We spent the night drinking at our fave bar Awful Al's then at last called headed to the local pizza place to eat. While in line I noticed a very drunk guy eyeing us. To my horror, he stumbled towards us and slurred some sort of drunken pick-up line in my ear. I said thank you and quickly turned away. Luckily he stumbled back to his friend, but I felt his eyes on us the entire time we were in line. Once we purchased our pizza, we sat at a table. Drunky was standing close by watching us. At one point while we were eating I looked up and a not bad looking guy was standing at our table, holding a rose. He offered it to me, said some sort of line and we began to chat. I guessed correctly that he was in SU law school and didn't check to see if he knew my law school guy (he almost definitely would). In the midst of our conversation, drunky stumbled towards us and interrupted. No one understood what he said so law school and I resumed our conversation. Drunky kept standing and saying something. Law school asked us if we knew him and we said absolutely not. He turned to him asked him to leave and drunky began to yell. Law school yelled back, his friend rushed over and they began to push each other. Mairey and I looked at each other in horror--we got up to leave but of course the whole fiasco followed us outside. Somehow it ended without anything more than a quick scuffle and the boys went their seperate ways. Too bad law school was too busy fighting to ask for my number.
So Mairey and I were responsible for a late night fight at a pizza shop, in which we were not involved. Fantastic.
We went straight to a new bar that had opened, King of Clubs. Not 10 seconds after we had walked in the door, a guy approached us and asked if we wanted to join their table. I rolled my eyes at the same time Mairey said yes. Thankfully she did as they really did have a table, filled to the brim with champagne and grey goose and surrounded by SU law guys. I couldn't believe I was actually in Syracuse. We walked over and they immediately pounced. There were about 8 of them and half took a special liking to Cardi. I felt bad for her but she held her own. I sat on the couch chatting with a particularly good-looking one, though not my type at all; I was surprised he was actually talking to me. We all spent the night drinking champage (only a couple glasses for me), while the guys harassed Cardi and I did a pretty good job at being socialable. I was excited because a few of them were going to be at the giant electro fest I was going to in NYC the next weekend (spoiler-- we never met up). Judgers showed up at one point as well and one of the guys drifted from Cardi to her. Around last call the guy I had been talking to asked for my number and invited us back to one of the guy's apartments for an after-party. We agreed and he then conned me into giving him and the guy who had been talking to Mairey a ride there. We walked into the apartment and were greeted by an ungodly sight--one of the guys had his shirt off, his gut almost pulling down his pants, and was dancing and rapping along to some song. I immediately loved that this was Cardi's first week in the US and this was her introduction to going out in Syracuse. We stayed for a bit, I ate a burrito with my law school guy and then I decided it was time to cart everyone home.
This was not the end of these guys, oh no. When I thought the night was over, Mairey apparently met her guy out again after I dropped her off. She went back to his place and he apparently spent the whole night begging for a blow job. They never spoke again. Judgers took her guy's offer of a dinner date seriously and allowed him to take her out. When they went back to his place after to watch a movie, he stripped down to his boxers. She shot him down and they never spoke again. Cardi resisted from the beginning and never spoke to any of them again.
Then there's me. My law school guy never called and I figured it was a no-go. Then he saw me out at a show a few months later. It was good timing for him as I was to the point where I needed to be over Frenchy, no matter what the cost. We hooked up twice and have never spoken again, aside from the occassional drunk text. Now he is in NYC and I dread the day when I see him out. Or do I?
Follow-up: Our second, seperate incident with different SU law school guys. This was about a month before I left for NYC and is a night which boosts my confidence when I think of it. I feel as though stuff like this doesn't happen often and one needs to bask in it when it does so here I go. Mairey and I had decided at the last minute to head downtown on this Thursday night. She was coming by to get me so I dressed in a hurry--I kept the turtleneck on which I had worn to my job at the coffee chain and reeked like, well, coffee. I put on a high-waisted 80s skirt and some lacy black tights. This wasn't exactly a come-hither outfit but I was proved wrong. We spent the night drinking at our fave bar Awful Al's then at last called headed to the local pizza place to eat. While in line I noticed a very drunk guy eyeing us. To my horror, he stumbled towards us and slurred some sort of drunken pick-up line in my ear. I said thank you and quickly turned away. Luckily he stumbled back to his friend, but I felt his eyes on us the entire time we were in line. Once we purchased our pizza, we sat at a table. Drunky was standing close by watching us. At one point while we were eating I looked up and a not bad looking guy was standing at our table, holding a rose. He offered it to me, said some sort of line and we began to chat. I guessed correctly that he was in SU law school and didn't check to see if he knew my law school guy (he almost definitely would). In the midst of our conversation, drunky stumbled towards us and interrupted. No one understood what he said so law school and I resumed our conversation. Drunky kept standing and saying something. Law school asked us if we knew him and we said absolutely not. He turned to him asked him to leave and drunky began to yell. Law school yelled back, his friend rushed over and they began to push each other. Mairey and I looked at each other in horror--we got up to leave but of course the whole fiasco followed us outside. Somehow it ended without anything more than a quick scuffle and the boys went their seperate ways. Too bad law school was too busy fighting to ask for my number.
So Mairey and I were responsible for a late night fight at a pizza shop, in which we were not involved. Fantastic.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Loose in the Cuse
And fortunately for me, not the sexual kind. Yes the past few weeks in New York hadn't been going well. My internships were ending, I had a few days off, so I decided why not head back to the comfort of Cuse (my hometown) since I hadn't been there since I'd left four months ago. Now for those of you who aren't familiar with Cuse, it's a real gem of a town. Not. It's an economically depressed, gray city filled with snow and white trash. But it does hold a special place in my heart--some of the most fun I've had has been in Cuse, specifically the East Side. My greyhound bus pulled in late but luckily my bff Mairey had volunteered to pick me up. We headed to a truck-stop diner not too far away where we were the only girls in the place. I recounted my life the past couple of weeks to Mairey (mainly the fiasco with Cute Guy) over a $3.50 plate of eggs and was pleased to be back.
This continued the next day when I drove around in my Volvo, blasting house music and doing assorted errands. The weather was actually decent and I felt like the belle of the ball. I was excited for that night--Mairey and I were scheduled to go out on the town, where last fall we had had many interesting nights (background story to come). After my day of attention Mairey picked me up, sporting my token booties, and we headed to Armory. It was good to be back but since my expectations were high the night did not live up to them. The bars were empty, except for local guys with chin straps. A SU law guy certainly would have made things more interesting (see background story to come). We ended the night at one of my least favorite bars (b/c of their infamous Thursday night special $1.50 jack and cokes). Mairey is basically the mayor of Cuse and met up with a guy she had recently met out. He had two friends with him, both of whom were wearing Ed Hardy. I was a little drunk and had spent pretty much the whole night inside my own head and paid them no mind. Apparently one was interested--he asked Mairey about me and then when I didn't show interest went to dance with some girl, all the while looking at me. I took no notice of this whatsoever as I sat in a corner and sulkily sipped my jack and coke. After last call we headed to the pizza place, where for awhile I thought I was destined to meet my future husband (see background story to come again). Unfortunately this could not happen, as these same guys followed us and sat with us. I grew mildly excited when one told me he was German but about 3 words in I realized that he was only born in Germany, probably on a military base. I tuned out his blabbing and housed my broccoli pizza.
I also managed to meet up with my old friend Fidel who happened to be in town for only one of the nights I was. I met her and her friend from law school (whom we'll call Raul) at a townie bar not far from my house. I was pleased to see Fidel as we used to be partners in crime in high school. We sat for a couple hours, drinking beers and they recounted stories from their law school days, which involved trolling for drugs, walking through screen doors, and hooking up in a random car to be discovered by its owner. Fantastic--fit for their own blog. Now the next day Fidel suggested I friend Raul on facebook. I concurred but when I went to do it almost had a heart attack when noticed that we had a surprise mutual friend--Cute Guy. No joke. They weren't from the same town nor had they gone to school together but there he was. Why wouldn't this guy leave my life?? After some detective work on the part of Fidel, we determined that he had been at their law school graduation last year and hooked up with one of their friends. How surprising. I added Raul anyway, and now it is likely formerly Cute Guy really thinks I'm an actual stalker.
The next night was a welcome home party for a friend--S dot--who had been teaching abroad in a faraway Asian country for a year. I was pretty pumped for a good old-fashioned house party on the East Side. The particular group of people who were going to be there were a group of guys (and some girls) that we had hung out with summers during college (see background story to come)--we called them the East Side Boys. And I, as a West Side Girl, was the only representative to make it to the party. I was greeted by S dot who weighed about 15 pounds less since I had last seen him, over a year ago. I led him to the buffet table, where I piled up a plate (for me, not him). I caught up with almost all of the East Side Boys, many of whom were still around and many who had moved away. One has been and is apparently still in love with Mairey and casually asked where she was. Another, UPenn, always sketched me out and kept asking me to try a bottle of the beer he had brewed (with his new girlfriend, he kept adding). Judgers (infamous Euro trip with ibankers) made an appearance and my old friend Mal Pal was there as well. We had also been good friends in high school but had a falling off right after graduation and had had a tumultous relationship ever since. She was being friendly this night though and we chatted for a good part of it, by the bonfire. I played a couple rounds of flip cup (which I was ecstatic about) and then noticed much of the party had disappeared. On my way to the bathroom I heard Mal Pal's voice coming from behind a closed door. I knocked and waltzed in, not thinking at all that something unwholesome could be going on at a party behind a closed door. I looked around and slowly noticed the dollar bills and white bags filled with powder. S dot and Mal Pal were taking in their fill (apparently that's the reason he was so skinny). I was not surprised but not exactly impressed. Is a welcome home party with a buffet really the time and place for that? And how have I gone 25 years in my life without ever seeing coke, and the place I see it is in Syracuse, NY? I exited, filled up my plate played a few more rounds of flip cup and finally headed back to the Volvo to cross town--it just wasn't the same without my fellow West Side Girls.
So my trip to Cuse was successful. I had rested and recovered, had some quality friend and fam time and had done an obscene amount of shopping. I was also able to shock some people, while I was late and speeding to meet my parents for dinner. I needed to change and had no time to stop. At a redlight I whipped off my shirt and pulled on my dress. Taking off my pants was much harder but I did it. And when I looked up the dad and the kids in the minivan next to me were staring. Get over it. So I was disappointed to be leaving and dreading heading back to my apartment with roomie (who had been sending me texts with his critiques about my living habits all weekend). At the bus station there was some confusion about which bus was heading to NYC and I almost didn't get on the right one. The French teenager next to me was trying to sort it out--at one point he turned to me with a look of complete fear in his eyes and said "I zon't want zo stay here!". I couldn't blame him. We were then subjected to a completely full, four and a half hour bus ride. When we arrived at Port Authority I hauled my suitcase (which was somehow heavier than when I left) onto the subway and made my way back to Astoria. The next morning Roomie and I had a blowout fight over my hair in the bathtub drain. Welcome back, me!
This continued the next day when I drove around in my Volvo, blasting house music and doing assorted errands. The weather was actually decent and I felt like the belle of the ball. I was excited for that night--Mairey and I were scheduled to go out on the town, where last fall we had had many interesting nights (background story to come). After my day of attention Mairey picked me up, sporting my token booties, and we headed to Armory. It was good to be back but since my expectations were high the night did not live up to them. The bars were empty, except for local guys with chin straps. A SU law guy certainly would have made things more interesting (see background story to come). We ended the night at one of my least favorite bars (b/c of their infamous Thursday night special $1.50 jack and cokes). Mairey is basically the mayor of Cuse and met up with a guy she had recently met out. He had two friends with him, both of whom were wearing Ed Hardy. I was a little drunk and had spent pretty much the whole night inside my own head and paid them no mind. Apparently one was interested--he asked Mairey about me and then when I didn't show interest went to dance with some girl, all the while looking at me. I took no notice of this whatsoever as I sat in a corner and sulkily sipped my jack and coke. After last call we headed to the pizza place, where for awhile I thought I was destined to meet my future husband (see background story to come again). Unfortunately this could not happen, as these same guys followed us and sat with us. I grew mildly excited when one told me he was German but about 3 words in I realized that he was only born in Germany, probably on a military base. I tuned out his blabbing and housed my broccoli pizza.
I also managed to meet up with my old friend Fidel who happened to be in town for only one of the nights I was. I met her and her friend from law school (whom we'll call Raul) at a townie bar not far from my house. I was pleased to see Fidel as we used to be partners in crime in high school. We sat for a couple hours, drinking beers and they recounted stories from their law school days, which involved trolling for drugs, walking through screen doors, and hooking up in a random car to be discovered by its owner. Fantastic--fit for their own blog. Now the next day Fidel suggested I friend Raul on facebook. I concurred but when I went to do it almost had a heart attack when noticed that we had a surprise mutual friend--Cute Guy. No joke. They weren't from the same town nor had they gone to school together but there he was. Why wouldn't this guy leave my life?? After some detective work on the part of Fidel, we determined that he had been at their law school graduation last year and hooked up with one of their friends. How surprising. I added Raul anyway, and now it is likely formerly Cute Guy really thinks I'm an actual stalker.
The next night was a welcome home party for a friend--S dot--who had been teaching abroad in a faraway Asian country for a year. I was pretty pumped for a good old-fashioned house party on the East Side. The particular group of people who were going to be there were a group of guys (and some girls) that we had hung out with summers during college (see background story to come)--we called them the East Side Boys. And I, as a West Side Girl, was the only representative to make it to the party. I was greeted by S dot who weighed about 15 pounds less since I had last seen him, over a year ago. I led him to the buffet table, where I piled up a plate (for me, not him). I caught up with almost all of the East Side Boys, many of whom were still around and many who had moved away. One has been and is apparently still in love with Mairey and casually asked where she was. Another, UPenn, always sketched me out and kept asking me to try a bottle of the beer he had brewed (with his new girlfriend, he kept adding). Judgers (infamous Euro trip with ibankers) made an appearance and my old friend Mal Pal was there as well. We had also been good friends in high school but had a falling off right after graduation and had had a tumultous relationship ever since. She was being friendly this night though and we chatted for a good part of it, by the bonfire. I played a couple rounds of flip cup (which I was ecstatic about) and then noticed much of the party had disappeared. On my way to the bathroom I heard Mal Pal's voice coming from behind a closed door. I knocked and waltzed in, not thinking at all that something unwholesome could be going on at a party behind a closed door. I looked around and slowly noticed the dollar bills and white bags filled with powder. S dot and Mal Pal were taking in their fill (apparently that's the reason he was so skinny). I was not surprised but not exactly impressed. Is a welcome home party with a buffet really the time and place for that? And how have I gone 25 years in my life without ever seeing coke, and the place I see it is in Syracuse, NY? I exited, filled up my plate played a few more rounds of flip cup and finally headed back to the Volvo to cross town--it just wasn't the same without my fellow West Side Girls.
So my trip to Cuse was successful. I had rested and recovered, had some quality friend and fam time and had done an obscene amount of shopping. I was also able to shock some people, while I was late and speeding to meet my parents for dinner. I needed to change and had no time to stop. At a redlight I whipped off my shirt and pulled on my dress. Taking off my pants was much harder but I did it. And when I looked up the dad and the kids in the minivan next to me were staring. Get over it. So I was disappointed to be leaving and dreading heading back to my apartment with roomie (who had been sending me texts with his critiques about my living habits all weekend). At the bus station there was some confusion about which bus was heading to NYC and I almost didn't get on the right one. The French teenager next to me was trying to sort it out--at one point he turned to me with a look of complete fear in his eyes and said "I zon't want zo stay here!". I couldn't blame him. We were then subjected to a completely full, four and a half hour bus ride. When we arrived at Port Authority I hauled my suitcase (which was somehow heavier than when I left) onto the subway and made my way back to Astoria. The next morning Roomie and I had a blowout fight over my hair in the bathtub drain. Welcome back, me!
Sunday, May 8, 2011
NYC can kick your ass
And then sometimes it kicks ass. Unfortunately lately I have been dealing with the former. It was like as soon as I decided I was going to be staying the shit hit the fan. With everything. My job at the fucking coffee chain was horrifying. On top of the fact that I was usually hungover while working my co-workers weren't exactly the nicest people. One manager in particulary had an especially strong aversion to me--she would boss me around constantly and have me do all the physically laborious tasks even when there were guys working. I ended up in tears one day. This particular day I was working I also found out that one of the disgusting workers had come in with bedbugs and no one had bothered to tell me. I had to throw all the clothes in my locker away. And on top of this I also was not getting paid the correct rate because of some b.s. with me transfering from another district. This job fucking sucked and I couldn't wait to get out.
After my shift I went to meet Roommate and his friends for his extended birthday celebration. They were coming from Dinosaur BBQ and I was bitter that I had missed it. We arrived at the bar and everyone promptly left except for Roommate and his semi-cute friend. I started drinking and decided that we were going to German bar across the street. We headed there, with me basically dragging the two of them. Once there I ordered a beer bigger than my face and proceeded to blab about Germany, myself and other topics that no one but me would be interested in. This turned out to be mine and Roommate's last friendly outing. Things had been up and down with us ever since I moved in. Maybe I was secretly bitter because he wasn't gay like I thought he was and he probably was still bitter that I had left him at the bar the night of Cute Guy. Or maybe he is just a dick like I was quickly starting to learn. He was insensitive, condescending, and extremely uptight. He would nitpick about everything--for example, he would send me a text message that I had put a dish away in the wrong spot, or that it had had food on it so he put it back in the sink. As irritating as this was, I decided it was worth it to suck it up and had signed another 4 month sublet with this guy. Big mistake, as I was soon to find out (story to come soon).
The next day I was once again anxious sitting around the apartment. I had just finished my last paper for grad school, Roommate was there creeping around, and I was feeling badly about Cute Guy (this is when I sent the apology text...it took him a day and a half to send his less than flattering response). I wanted out so I called my friend Polish Princess from my first night in Williamsburg. We hadn't really hung out since and a couple weeks prior to this she had sent me a message that she had things to tell me about. I called her and she said that we would get together once she got back from the Turkish baths (uhh excuse me, the what?). On the subway there later that night I predicted that this big news was a guy. I was right. I arrived at her apartment and she introduced me to T, her new boyfriend that she was going to be moving in with the next weekend. I was immediately concerned as they had only been dating for a short time, but T turned out to be extremely nice. He was from California and defintely seemed it. The three of us chatted over the dinner that PP cooked us and she was horrified when I spilled my story about Cute Guy. She couldn't believe that I had done that, which made me question my actions, but I decided that it was going to end whether I had counted or not.
We headed out for a night out afterwards. We got crazy drinks at a speakeasy and mingled with slightly annoying European guys at the next bar. I ended up talking to a Swiss guy for a minute and was especially charming--"You better get back to your friends, they might break up with you" was one of the responses I gave him so I'm sure he was impressed. We stayed out pretty late and I ended up drinking a fair amount in typical Williamsburg fashion. I stayed on their couch and a few hours later dragged myself out the door to truck to work at the coffee chain. Happy Easter to me. I spent the day more hungover than I had ever been there and wildly out of dresscode. At the end of the shift I packed up a huge bagfull of the food they were going to throw away and decided to head home. There was a dj playing in Williamsburg that night that I wanted to see but it was of course sold out and no one had responded about trying to get tickets. While on the subway I received a text from PP saying they were willing to try and get some. Luckily I was able to dodge out of the train just in time at Union Square and get on the L. Back to Williamsburg for me, in the same outfit as the night before. I met them for some food and while inside the restaurant it started to pour. We stayed awhile trying to wait it out but it was unrelentless. We had no choice but to head over, as it was getting late. We began to walk and halfway there it was coming down so hard that I could barely see in front of me. I was the only one with a flimsy umbrella so by the time we arrived we were completely soaked. There was no chance of getting tickets so we trucked back to her apartment. We were so wet that T was forced to take off his shoes and walk barefoot. My paper bag full of food was falling apart and my makeup was running down my face. I looked like a deranged homeless lady. I stayed at her apartment for a minute to dry off while PP and T cuddled on the couch and I looked on slightly bitter. I then headed home, took a shower and immediately passed out.
The next day I had off. It was both a really good and really bad day. I was offered a job at another museum (temporary and part-time of course but something) and the weather was lovely. I went to Buffalo Exchange to sell some clothes and then met another intern at the Beer Garden later that night. But I was upset about Cute Guy and his d bag response later that night put me in a foul mood (we haven't spoken since and I dread the day I see him out). I was trying to put together my new desk chair from Ikea, trying not to cry about it, with d bag Roommate looking on critiquing what I was doing but not helping. Is it a coincidence that these two have the same name?...nope, apparently it is a name for dicks. It was at this point that I was extremely excited to head back to Syracuse in a couple of days for a long weekend. NYC and I needed a break.
After my shift I went to meet Roommate and his friends for his extended birthday celebration. They were coming from Dinosaur BBQ and I was bitter that I had missed it. We arrived at the bar and everyone promptly left except for Roommate and his semi-cute friend. I started drinking and decided that we were going to German bar across the street. We headed there, with me basically dragging the two of them. Once there I ordered a beer bigger than my face and proceeded to blab about Germany, myself and other topics that no one but me would be interested in. This turned out to be mine and Roommate's last friendly outing. Things had been up and down with us ever since I moved in. Maybe I was secretly bitter because he wasn't gay like I thought he was and he probably was still bitter that I had left him at the bar the night of Cute Guy. Or maybe he is just a dick like I was quickly starting to learn. He was insensitive, condescending, and extremely uptight. He would nitpick about everything--for example, he would send me a text message that I had put a dish away in the wrong spot, or that it had had food on it so he put it back in the sink. As irritating as this was, I decided it was worth it to suck it up and had signed another 4 month sublet with this guy. Big mistake, as I was soon to find out (story to come soon).
The next day I was once again anxious sitting around the apartment. I had just finished my last paper for grad school, Roommate was there creeping around, and I was feeling badly about Cute Guy (this is when I sent the apology text...it took him a day and a half to send his less than flattering response). I wanted out so I called my friend Polish Princess from my first night in Williamsburg. We hadn't really hung out since and a couple weeks prior to this she had sent me a message that she had things to tell me about. I called her and she said that we would get together once she got back from the Turkish baths (uhh excuse me, the what?). On the subway there later that night I predicted that this big news was a guy. I was right. I arrived at her apartment and she introduced me to T, her new boyfriend that she was going to be moving in with the next weekend. I was immediately concerned as they had only been dating for a short time, but T turned out to be extremely nice. He was from California and defintely seemed it. The three of us chatted over the dinner that PP cooked us and she was horrified when I spilled my story about Cute Guy. She couldn't believe that I had done that, which made me question my actions, but I decided that it was going to end whether I had counted or not.
We headed out for a night out afterwards. We got crazy drinks at a speakeasy and mingled with slightly annoying European guys at the next bar. I ended up talking to a Swiss guy for a minute and was especially charming--"You better get back to your friends, they might break up with you" was one of the responses I gave him so I'm sure he was impressed. We stayed out pretty late and I ended up drinking a fair amount in typical Williamsburg fashion. I stayed on their couch and a few hours later dragged myself out the door to truck to work at the coffee chain. Happy Easter to me. I spent the day more hungover than I had ever been there and wildly out of dresscode. At the end of the shift I packed up a huge bagfull of the food they were going to throw away and decided to head home. There was a dj playing in Williamsburg that night that I wanted to see but it was of course sold out and no one had responded about trying to get tickets. While on the subway I received a text from PP saying they were willing to try and get some. Luckily I was able to dodge out of the train just in time at Union Square and get on the L. Back to Williamsburg for me, in the same outfit as the night before. I met them for some food and while inside the restaurant it started to pour. We stayed awhile trying to wait it out but it was unrelentless. We had no choice but to head over, as it was getting late. We began to walk and halfway there it was coming down so hard that I could barely see in front of me. I was the only one with a flimsy umbrella so by the time we arrived we were completely soaked. There was no chance of getting tickets so we trucked back to her apartment. We were so wet that T was forced to take off his shoes and walk barefoot. My paper bag full of food was falling apart and my makeup was running down my face. I looked like a deranged homeless lady. I stayed at her apartment for a minute to dry off while PP and T cuddled on the couch and I looked on slightly bitter. I then headed home, took a shower and immediately passed out.
The next day I had off. It was both a really good and really bad day. I was offered a job at another museum (temporary and part-time of course but something) and the weather was lovely. I went to Buffalo Exchange to sell some clothes and then met another intern at the Beer Garden later that night. But I was upset about Cute Guy and his d bag response later that night put me in a foul mood (we haven't spoken since and I dread the day I see him out). I was trying to put together my new desk chair from Ikea, trying not to cry about it, with d bag Roommate looking on critiquing what I was doing but not helping. Is it a coincidence that these two have the same name?...nope, apparently it is a name for dicks. It was at this point that I was extremely excited to head back to Syracuse in a couple of days for a long weekend. NYC and I needed a break.
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