"You Doing Anything After Dinner Tonight?"

Beep beep bzzzz.

That's the noise my texts make. Oh sweet text message anticipation, who is seeing what I'm up to?

Oh, it's you. Jimmy.

Jimmy is a club promoter who The BFF and I met awhile ago. And for almost a year - give or take a few months - we have been on his "Hey girl" text distribution list. Well, I should say "I have been" ... The BFF recently realized he hasn't texted her since October 22!

After months without responding to his unwarranted "Hottest Party in NYC" texts, I have recently taken him up a few times on his offers. I mean, going to 'da club - in this case usually Tenjune - isn't my weekly routine, but every now and then (especially when friends are in town who I know will make it fun) I can enjoy partaking in a little free bottle service and getting my dance on to "Rise Up."


The last time I saw him, Jimmy told me I looked like a model. I'm not totally sure what that means (like anyone can be a catalogue model for example). Then he introduced me to his girlfriend. And then he tried to kiss me. Classy.

Anyway, I've started realizing that guys will come and go, full-court text press and then fall off the radar, but my textual relationship with Jimmy is going strong. So even if my dating roster isn't full, I will at least have someone to prove to me that my phone is indeed working. Beep beep bzzzz.

"WEATHER REPORT: Crowded with a chance of *Sparkler Bottles* Tonight!!! Are you coming??"

At least there is a guy out there asking me out. Even if it is via mass text. And even if he is kind of sleazy.

It's something.

The M Word

In the last year my peers and I have crossed into marriage territory. Well, not literally for most of us, but the topic of marriage is now a real, timely "thing." Any quick browse on Facebook documents another person taking the leap.

It's so weird. Becoming an adult just sort of sneaks up on you. Last time I checked, we were talking about who asked who to the middle school dance.

Anyway, I just got an adorable, glittery Mr & Mrs. engagement party invitation in the mail. Being a thousand miles away with limited vacay time and plane fare funds has unfortunately severely restricted my partcipation in friends' pre-wedding festivities.

Although I'm not physically there, it's still a reminder of a world I have one leg in while the rest of my body is in a different time zone. A time zone that thinks if you're under thirty and married it might be due to some sort of child bride scenario. Like whenever I mention another friend from home has gotten engaged, older coworkers always slip a "But you're so young!" comment in there.

While I have a few more years until it's the main focus of my New York friends' agendas, the majority of guys I have dated fall in the big, fat middle of the almost-all-my-friends-are-married-slash-engaged category. As a side note, I would like to point out that it should have been more apparent that there might be a reason why they're the ones still single...

Anyway, both worlds I occupy are filling with marrieds. It's fine, I'm getting older, and I'm also associating with people who started life a little ahead of me. But part me still finds the idea of marriage so foreign. Part of me feels like the way my friends and I approach the topic is with the same curiosity and gossipy anticipation as when we started liking boys in the first place.

"Oh so and so, I bet you have a crush on him. When is he going to be your boyfriend?" Replace boyfriend with fiance/husband and we're still using the same script. After a few dates with a guy, I get at least a couple "Do you think this is going anywhere?" questions. I've even come to expect the totally premature "Could you see yourself marrying this guy" Q because, hey, I ask my friends the same unanswerable thing.

Our focus on the future should be expected, though, because it's our nature. We like long-term planning. Yes we might jump the gun a little, but at the heart of it, deep down inside, we're still excited by the same possibilities as we were in 7th grade. We love gossip, we love boys, we love love. And now we love weddings and marriage too. And cake.

You Deserve This

So the "certain male friend" I refer to in the opening of my profile is a guy who I've worked with/been friends with since I moved to the city.

This guy we will call Jersey because he's from there and always seems to be going there, not because he's super "Jersey" - ALTHOUGH HE DOES ROCK A GOLD CHAIN OCCASIONALLY!!

Anyway, he's a genuinely good guy, fun, attractive, etc. [Note: Am I doing a good job of building up your ego??] ... although he might have the emotional fragility of a 13-year-old girl... and he thinks my blog is scary. Apparently guys do not need to know the inter-workings of girls' minds...

So Jersey sits down the hall from my cubicle and will occasionally stop to chat. He works directly for the president of the company who also sits down the hall and also likes to stop and chat. Yesterday I mentioned to his boss I wasn't feeling very well. He proceeded to give me a five minute lecture on the importance of my health and how I should leave immediately. I "promised" I would in a little while so he'd leave me alone.

Later I receive this gchat message:

Jersey: opps.

me: huh

Jersey: i owe you an apology, you are about to be aggressively harassed. Boss asked if you had gone home yet, and I said I don't know then he said, "She really looked like she wasn't feeling well." and like an idiot I said "Great, means she'll probably get me sick too" implying you are going to get your co-workers sick. Instead, he took it and ran with it, and made a bunch of wild gestures... so I'm sure you'll be hearing about that.

me: HAHAHA

Jersey: he said "way to go" and now im uncomfortable

me: HAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA great...i need to get the F out of here immediately

Jersey: seriously. please do

me: first im going to email him and ask him to please keep our secret relationship to himself MUAHAHAHAHA ..JOKING

Jersey: my goodness. im incredible... only i could get the judgment of an office relationship without the perks...i suck

me: HAHAHAHAH seriously hilarious...minus the fact im involved

Jersey then went on to complain about how is life is a comedic tragedy - DUDE HAVE YOU READ MY BLOG? Tons of crap happens to me constantly! - what a baby.

So I told him I would blog about this, which he didn't appreciate. But one time he did say that I could use the blog to try and introduce him to girls. So I've merged the purpose of this blog: hilarious office non-romance gone awry and finding Jersey a date.

Like I said, he's cute, funny, has a soul. He enjoys eating. And making fun of Texas.

[Note: I love matchmaking. Clearly it's in my blood... I will be honest, though, my track record is not amazing...but this could turn things around...]

Let me know if you're interested.

It's Not Just Me

So I have a lot of "soulmates" in life - and a few months ago I found my blogger soulmate(s). Elle & Em - two longtime BFFs! - at doyoufancyus.blogspot.com. I randomly stumbled upon it searching for a 30 Rock Liz Lemon "dealbreaker" quote, which they had obviously written about at one point. Duh, soulmates.

Anyway, I've linked to their site a few times, and visa versa.

Haven't read it in a few days due to actual work, etc., but after I just wrote about spotting FH 2.0 on the street, I saw this post from Tuesday:

Murphy's Law. You are real and a bitch, and a REAL BITCH

True story, last summer I tried speed dating on a whim, it was....interesting. I don't think its necessarily the where I will find a husband, or the owner of my future monogrammed towels, but it is definitely an experience that I think everyone should try just for kicks.

Anyway, I ended up going on a few dates with a cute lanky, and very nice British guy. Great on paper, he was cute, owned his apartment, had a great job, but the chemistry wasn't there ...so I bailed. Literally, I bailed, i.e. stopped responding to emails, calls, texts. I felt pretty lame/ pathetic/ rude, and should have just done the big girl thing and said, "yeah, I don't think this is working".

Well, the Brit got his, because last night as I was ducking out of the gym, post workout, I run into him on the street. It wasn't a "Hello" type run in, it was a stop, stare and walk away. So, true story, if you treat a boy not so well, you WILL see him again, and Mr. Murphy and his law will dictate that you won't look lovely, in fact, you will probably be tomato red, with sweaty hair, and in old yoga pants.

Glad we share the pleasure of having had awkward, post-gym ex spottings this week. Like I said, soulmates.

PS Love the headband suggestions from Em.

Crap...I Know You

First, let me just say that New York is clearly a ginormous city, and it takes awhile to build up your network of friends/acquaintances/people you recognize/etc. Especially compared to Austin where I was born, raised and attended college - I know no one here. So when I do run into familiar people on the street, it's kind of cool. Like when The BFF and I randomly saw our old roommate (who sublet for like a month) the other day at brunch. Nice to run into him (someone has been working out), and kind of ironic since we had just had a convo about how we would prob never see him again...except it was not really that random because Dos Caminos has a great brunch deal (FREE MARG) and is directly next to our apt and close to his new place...

Anyway...

So I'm usually pumped about the random run-in, until yesterday when - for the first time - I spotted a guy I had been out with a few times. Yes, there is an entire SATC (Sex and the City) episode dedicated to running from exes on the street. It's a legit fear, and now one of which I will be more aware.

The guy I saw, Ol' FH 2.0 was described here, and then mentioned in my ingenious feedback request scheme and also for sending a patronizing text about my capacity for humor in relation to my age. La-me.

Anyway, I spotted him and his date checking out a restaurant menu while I was walking home from the gym. We did not make eye contact, and I doubt he saw me. Which made me happy because a) Post-Ultimate Conditioning is NOT my finest look, and b) He was on a date, how do you make this introduction: "So and so, this is Rachel, a girl whose Avon Walk for Breast Cancer fundraising goals were met in part due to my donation, and who I took out a few times, introduced to my close friends and then never hung out with again!"

Spare me.

So after inconspicuously slithering by and ducking into the grocery store next door, I realized my heart was pounding. I mean, obviously saying hello wouldn't have been the worst thing ever, nor was him semi-falling off the face of the Earth that Earth-shattering. But the unexpected sighting reminded me that you just never know when someone might pop back up in your world.

I've been on enough dates to know the odds are decent of seeing a few of them randomly. But that doesn't mean I won't get awkward and uncomfortable as I try and avoid interaction. Especially when sporting sweaty gym ensembles.

At least, though, I did not look as bad as Miranda when she hid from her ex. Overalls. Gross.

Maybe the Most Depressing Article Ever

According to the NY Post last week, half of Manhattan lives alone.

First, this just upsets me as I have about 2.5 roommates more than what I wish I had. If you know that I have 3 roommates, yes that would leave me with .5 left over - which would be the point value of having a dog. Man, I wish I had a dog.

Anyway, according to new Census Bureau data, the number of singles in the city is continuing to rise to historic levels. So it shouldn't be that hard to find dates, or something. Where are all these single guys with their own apts? No seriously, please point me in their direction ASAP.

But wait, "Ladies, however, are at a disadvantage. There are 212,000 single female households compared with 165,000 male single."

Ugh.

The journalist of this amazing article goes on to assure us single ladies that "many of those women are lonely hearts, but they aren't all Carrie Bradshaws."

You know why? BECAUSE THE REST ARE WIDOWS. "It reflects the large number of elderly in the city's population, and many live by themselves when their partner dies."

So you are either a lonely heart/Carrie Bradshaw or a widow? Fantastic.

But all is not lost. You know why? Because we have this woman as a role model for either (or combo) scenario.


"There is a fine line between having a good time and being a wanton slut. I know. My toe has been on that line."


- Blanche Devereaux

Halloween was a Success

Halloween was great because:

a) I did not cry

b) In addition to a number of other props I had with me, I carried around a mini potato masher - which is just hilarious

c) The vast majority of my close NYC friends were all on hand to celebrate - in a city with one bajillion things to do and places to go it worked out so well!

d) Some guy - dressed as a giraffe a la Jeffrey from Toys R Us - gave me a non-business card with his name & email!! OMG just like my idea! Sadly FB photodocumentation warns me he's not that cute. IAAB.

And here's a little taste of Sexy Julia because I know everyone is DYING to see how it turned out: