Allowed myself to be a slug yesterday. Pretty much all day.
New York was fun as always, but proved to wear me out again. Suppose it was because I blew it out the first night I got there and spent the rest of the time recovering from my self-inflicted injuries.
Why do I always have to prove things to myself? Remember my last entry? I was bummed because Canuk wasnt gonna be there and I wasnt gonna get the wining and dining and attention that Ive grown accustomed to while there.
Wellllll .lets just say that I made it a point to get some attention. Lets just say that the first night in town was an attention frenzy for some reason. Lets just say that I was on a mission. Mission accomplished and then some.
I wont go into too much detail here because its the same old song and dance, though something of a milestone for me.
Met some cool people at the hotel bar, one of whom (a woman) I will most likely see next time Im in town (end of April). Later that night, after a few cocktails, I met a very attractive ..okay .fucking incredibly sexy guy who I will most likely never see for the rest of my life.
Had my very first official one-night-stand.
Dont know why I sorta struggled with the thought of it. And I say official one-night-stand because yeah, Ive kinda sorta fooled around with guys that Ive just met before. But never like this. Never to this extent. And to be perfectly honest here, Ive always had at least some kind of follow-up to the scenario. Like, either wed go out again .or Id at least hear back with a phone call or something.
This time, there was nothing. There will be nothing. Period. End of story.
And it sort of bugged me for the rest of the trip. And its sort of bugging me now. But what I hope to accomplish by writing this down is that it will be purged from my system and Ill be done and over with it and Ill never do it again.
Things seem to have been sort of leading up to this for a long time now. I suppose I sort of wanted it to happen. I guess I was just curious about how it felt to have no-strings-attached you-know-what (gah! I cant even say it!).
He was sooo cool and he took me to his amazing apartment with a view like Ive never seen before and he was funny and we were laughing and happy and all that. And I knew he was on the rebound. Hed just broken up with his fiancée. Hed just gotten the ring back from her (for some reason), and I wanted to see it .so he showed me the rock. Let me try it on and everything. Strange. Very strange. The whole thing, surreal. And before I knew it, I woke to the sunrise, just barely a dim, grayish gold unfolding over the city .a view from an amazing floor-to-ceiling window in this extravagant high-rise.
And I told him that I had to go. I had meetings all day. He asked for my phone number, but I knew he wouldnt call. I kissed him on the cheek and practically ran out the door, down the elevator, and didnt even look at the doorman as I flew past.
And for a split second I felt all empowered and shit. Like woohooo! Notch on the belt!
But after a while, as my meetings dragged on and on I just felt foolish. And really, really tired. And kinda mad at myself, but kinda not.
And
Didnt I say I wasnt going to go into too much detail?
Moving on now.
Rest of my week was rather uneventful in comparison.
Two days of borrrrrrring meetings. I honestly thought Id get more out of it. But I did make some great contacts in the industry, and I did manage to sneak out of two of the presentations to soak up the sun and do a little people watching in Union Square.
And on the second day of the meetings, we actually got out a little early, so I made it to Olives at the W Hotel in Union Square in time for happy hour. Met this really cool girl who was waiting for a friend to show up for dinner. We talked for the better part of two hours, and she practically convinced me to move to New York right then and there (not that I hadnt been thinking about it before).
And I did end up ordering room service and mostly took it easy the rest of the time. Even turned down a couple of invitations, though my low-key attitude was a bit of a downer.
On Friday morning, three freaks were caught on the wires of the George Washington Bridge, causing shutdowns and full searches of bridges and tunnels into Manhattan. The guy I was supposed to meet at 10:00 didnt show up until 11:00. My meeting lasted well into the afternoon and ate into the free time Id planned for myself to do a little personal shopping. So the company called a car service to take me to the airport. The Bulgarian driver wanted to talk war, and I was just so exhausted that a few short comments were all I could muster.
I kinda just wanted to say, Who cares about the war, Im now officially a slut!
Whoops. I thought that was out of my system since I wrote it down up there. Dammit. Why does this bug me so much?
Loading comments...