Hello! I'm really happy that we got so many nice new visitors from The Frisky thanks to the interview with me that the site ran yesterday.
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ONGOING HONKING DRAMA
So, yes--taking the advice some of you gave me yesterday to heart--I woke up a little earlier today to confront the horn-honker. I got properly dressed (well, if you can call a flannel-pajama-tuxedo with the red rubber boots and my winter jacket "properly"). Then I sat on my stoop ... and waited. And waited. It was 38 minutes after the hour. 43 after is usually when the offendor comes. Seeing the neighbors who noticed me in yesterday's get-up, I got to my feet and unzipped my jacket to show them I did not have any diamonds of crotch-fabric showing today. (Well, not really. But I wanted to.) I sat back down and watched them traipse off down the street. I wondered what was happening on the Internet and longed to check my email. I wished I'd brought my book so I could read. I took my shades out of my jacekt and put them on. I turned my face sun-ward and felt like a heliotrope. For some reason, I thought about what it would be like to be in Paris today and how nice it would be to get an exceptional cup of coffee with a chocolate-almond croissant.
By then it was 50 minutes after the hour, and no one had come.
I went inside and remembered I couldn't make myself any java, because I'd (literally) toasted my grinder yesterday; no ground beans. So I had to have tea--and I decided, well, to hell with it, I wasn't going to have English Breakfast but Afternoon Darjeeling. Because I am just that kind of girl.
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I thought all the comments from yesterday were pretty interesting (more of a response to them below); they gave me a lot to chew on. Particularly Kristian's comment about how all the men in NYC are super-competitive about everything--so true!
And D.C.'s comment about how men like a little mystery ...
Which is not something I have very much of, as someone who writes in great detail about her interior life.
Which brings me to ...
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THE MOST RECENT STORY OF HOW THE BLOG MAY BE THE FINAL NAIL IN THE COFFIN OF MY DATING LIFE
Fairly recently, I met a dude at a certain event that I might have blogged about. We were maybe flirting. When he asked me about my professional life, I didn't mention the old bloggerino, because I'm starting to learn that it can add a VERY THICK layer of complication to the already complicated early phase of dating. But contact info WAS exchanged--including an email address that does not include my last name.
We were supposed to get a drink, but when it came to planning the details, he suggested we meet up halfway--and halfway is kind of a schlep for me, since he doesn't live in Brooklyn. And I wasn't THAT interested. And something about the communications we'd exchanged made me less interested. So I re-scheduled. And then I re-scheduled again. And then ...
Well, by that point, I should've just flat-out cancelled. But we'd had a fair amount of back-and-forth by then, and I felt a little guilty.
So I said:
Life's a little busy (which it is) so would you mind if I cancel once more, take the ball into my court and get in touch to make a plan when I know I'll be near your neighborhood?
He agreed to that even if he seemed--understandably--a little annoyed.
Then, the other night, I'm sitting at my computer when I get a Gchat message from him:
Hey, are you there? We should chat.
Usually I mark my status as "invisible," since the only thing between me (as a freelance writer) and a totally
wasted day is a little discipline. And the instant messaging stuff can be a huge time suck.
Now, I could've ignored it, sure. But there was something about his peremptory phrasing--we should chat--that made me feel like something was up. And curiosity got the best of me.
So I wrote: Yep, I'm here.
He said: I found out who you are, despite your attempts to remain semi-anonymous. I've read the blog.
Cue the plunking piano noise: Dah-DAH! Revelation! There was something quite accusatory about his e-tone, or so I thought.
My response was a bit defensive:
Okay, so you've read the blog. And?
HIM: Now I know a lot about you.
ME: Well, you're not the only one. What do you know?
HIM: That you're in therapy.
Right--myself and about 50% of the female population of the greater New York area. I mean, women here go to therapy like chicks in other cities get manicures; it's very common. Every single one of my close lady friends is in or has been in therapy. (Well, except for my hat designer friend Eugenia Kim, who consults a psychic, which I think is kind of nutty and totally awesome.)
What's more: WHO THE HELL CARES? I think trying to gain a better understanding of yourself is perfectly healthy.
HIM: I also know you had casual sex.
ME: Wait--I did?
HIM: Didn't you?
ME: Uh, no. An editor WANTED me to have casual sex, and to write about what it was like--in part because he reads my blog and knows I have all sorts of guilt about one-night-stands and that sort of thing. But in the end, I decided against it--I couldn't do it.
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Um, are any of you feeling as uncomfortable as I was?
I can't tell you how put on the spot I felt. I suppose it was enlightening, to get a sense of how some people respond to the blog ... but it was NOT fun.
At this point, I really have no interest in the guy--what a weird thing to do!--but it reminded me that there are real consequences to this decision I've made, to put my personal life on public display. And it renewed my fears that the blog is going to be terrible for my love life.
Don't you guys agree?
i'm going to publish this post and return to this page in a second to respond to your comments ...
-Kristian with a K: Yes! The guys in New York with
their hugo egos! Out to conquer the world, and they want to conquer women in the same way. Great point. The male egos here are even more
enormous than those of the guys in other cities I've spent time in
(like L.A. and D.C.). I might have to post more about this very topic
soon. ... Also, I'm glad I inspired you to write your second comment ever!
-JSW! When I was on the Frisky yesterday , I noticed you are famous over there! Nice picture. Yes, most of the time, being nice just comes naturally. Also, can you explain more how I can fix the grinder? It's just the plug--the plastic around it has melted--but the plug is built into the machine?
-DC: I like your point--similar to one of JSW's--about how it's less mature guys who are into mean girls. Hmm. ... Also, it seems you can ONLY reach Taxi+Limo Commission through 311 ... ?
-Paris: Even when you don't try to, you make me laugh. :-/
-Jen: Know what the guy at the hardware store said, when I asked about what I could buy to sound-proof my windows from the honker? A gun.
-Kell! You don't have to be witty or clever to comment here ... I'll take kind+honest over witty+clever any day. So please, stick around.
-Edwinna and CS: I like your point about the line between being a doormat and being nice enough. I'm not a pushover--but I think I could be a little tougher. ... Hmm ...