I had a fabulous time in Jamaica. Relaxing, fun, wonderful. Sarah and Kim and I just sat on the beach for 5 days and did absolutely nothing. It was great! Unfortunately I don't have any exciting boy stories for you--there was only 1 single guy on the entire resort, and aside from the requisite flirting from the male staff, I don't have anything to report.
But now, I think, it's time for Grow Some to come to an end. I hope not to lose any of you, dear readers, so please join me at my new blog. Please update your links. I'll miss you, grow some!!!!
Sarah, Kim, and I are leaving for Jamaica first thing tomorrow morning. We'll be gone till Friday. Come back then, though, I'll have an important announcement about the future of this blog then, 'kay?
So, the total lack of communication from my Brit has made it clear that I need to move on. And what better way to do that than by joining Dolly at Moxie's Lock and Key party?
We had fun, but boy, was it crowded! Typical open bar event, everyone scrambling to get a drink, no one could get to the bar. Once the lock and key part started, though, it was very fun. An interesting crowd, though. Everything from older suits to younger B&T types, and everything in between. There were at least 3 love (or at least hookup) connections that I witnessed--there were some drunken young ladies hanging on some satisfied looking fellows. Of course those pairs left together. The "lock and key" process was fun, but many of the guy's keys opened more than one lock. It was an easy way to talk to people, and escape people you didn't want to talk to. I felt like the Belle of the Ball. All the guys were telling me how desirable I was all night, definitely something I needed to hear this week, after the fiasco with the Brit.
It was weird, though, with Dolly--whenever we go out together, all the guys we meet seem, initially, to be equally attracted to both of us. As Dolly said last night: "We're like Designer Impostors. If you like Dolly, try Kristin!" We laughed. But since Dolly (in her own words) is a bit more aggressive (I tend to stand back, a bit, and let the guy pursue.... I'm old-fashioned, so sue me) she always ends up getting the guy (but I do just fine, too, so don't worry about me). After the lock and key we ended up going out to dinner with two friends that were there. I thought one was cute, but both were equally flirting with me. However, Dolly thought the other one was cute, and I was convinced that as soon as he started talking to her, he'd go for her (hey, it's happened every other time we go out--why would last night be any different?). They totally hit it off, too, so it seemed to be the case. Yet, at the end of the night, he ended up asking me if we could go out again--and we didn't really talk much! How strange. But I think his friend is cuter, and more my type. Aii. All 4 of us exchanged business cards, so we shall see what we shall see.
As Dolly and I headed off to the subway, we walked by a diner, where a cute guy was sitting alone (no wedding ring either!). We thought it was someone we knew, but nope, it wasn't. At this point, we attract his attention, two girls staring at him through the diner window? How strange. Dolly decides she's going to pull "Hot Actor Part 2." She wrote my name and # on a note and handed it to him. He turned around and looked at me, I blushed. The guy behind the counter motioned me in, and Dolly took off, leaving me there alone! Cute guy and I shared a few questions--mostly me asking him stuff... "What do you do?" "what are you doing here alone at midnight on a Friday" etc. He asked me what I was up to, I said "going home" and he said, "Well, I have your #, I'll call you." I said "sure...." and said goodbye and left. Ug.
This morning my phone had a text message. Kristin you shouldn't have left, wanted to buy you a drink. Is it him???? I hope so. He was pretty cute...
Soooo last night, Dolly and I met up with Elle and Snob. Sooooo much fun!!!! We totally had a blast, three blondes and a brunette wandering around the Village and the LES.
The other bloggers I've met through this site, Damn It Anyway and Larissa are also so much fun, and everyone in NYC has expressed jealousy of the tight-knit DC blogging circle, so I figured it's about time we had an event of our own.
I'm sending out evites now. Mark your calendars for Thursday, March 23. If you don't get an evite, shoot me an email and I'll hook you up!
So, I've been thinking a lot lately, about the blog and how it's gotten me into so much trouble. Part of me wants to just stop, but then I get wonderful comments and such support from you people, that I can't say goodbye!
So here's what I want to do:
The other three "grow some" girls aren't posting anymore, so this has really become an outlet for me alone. But all their posts are here, in the archives, so I don't feel comfortable "taking over" this blog either...
I think I need to start fresh. Start a new blog, that it won't be the end of the world if people find it. Focus on other aspects of my life as well, not just dating--I never share much about my acting life, because I don't want people to put two and two together. But it'll still be anonymous enough that I won't be paranoid about posting my thoughts.
Everyone knows Andy Warhol's famous quote: "In the future everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes." Well, apparently my karma guarantees that I can only have a boyfriend for fifteen minutes.
No, nothing's been resolved with the British Scientist. I hadn't heard anything from him, but was feeling positive today, called him to say hi. I assumed I would just leave a message but he picked up. "Hi! It's me. How are you, I was just thinking about you! Ran into a scientist today and thought of you." We both talked about nothing. Then I told him that he "seemed down" the last time I spoke to him--but he assured me he was feeling better. 5 more minutes of fluff-talk. I couldn't take any more so I said, "Well, just wanted to check in... let me know if you want to get together sometime." He said he would let me know, that we'd be in touch.
Not what I wanted to hear.
I feel like I have no closure on this thing. Dolly wants to go with me to a lock and key party on Friday. The Classical Musician, out of nowhere, emailed me this today: I would like to see you again...do you have any time this week? (not sure what THAT'S about). I just got an email saying I could go to speed dating for free tonight. Not that any of these things appeal to me all that much, at this point, but they would certainly take my mind off my current situation. But no, I'm in limbo.
This is the second 15-minute relationship I've had. I think I'm cursed.
Cue flashback.
The Poet was the big love of my life. He's the Manchild's best friend. We met while out one night, during a period when the Manchild and Sarah were broken up. The Poet and I totally had a connection—we were talking and joking all night. Then we all got too drunk (the story of my life) and Sarah and The Poet ended up making out. So I started making out with the Manchild. Lovely.
The Poet tried to get Sarah to go home with him, but she refused. Imagine my surprise, then, when the Poet called to ask me out two weeks later (I had not given him my number). Against my better judgment, I agreed (The Poet is super hot), and he spent the next 3 months courting me, going out with me roughly every other week.
Things progressed. He invited me first to a slam poetry competition, and then I started going to see him perform every week. We were seeing each other 2-3x a week. We began sleeping together. I thought we were soul mates. Then he gave me the best compliment ever—after getting cast in a show, we met up for drinks. I was so excited, I couldn’t stop talking. Finally I paused. He grabbed my hand and said “Your enthusiasm, your excitement about your new show. It’s beautiful to watch.” My heart melted.
He followed this up with the suggestion that we go away together for the 4th of July. But we still hadn’t had The Talk. I was feeling confident, in control. This amazing compliment followed by boyfriend noises? Surely this would go well.
It didn’t. He couldn’t commit. It was too big a deal for him, he argued, even though he wasn’t seeing anyone else. He’d never “officially” had a girlfriend (not a good sign—he was 25 at the time). He felt that once he committed to having a girlfriend, he would have to marry this person. I tried to explain that it’s not THAT big a deal, but he wouldn’t hear it. Fine, subject changed.
We continued the evening, went to eat, had an okay time. I was clearly sad. As we were leaving to share a cab, we walked down the street, he grabbed my hand. “Okay, I’ll be your boyfriend,” he said.
I was ecstatic. We began to kiss, softly, romantically. The man of my dreams, and now he’s my boyfriend? I was in bliss.
We got in the cab and as we headed uptown, he promptly began to freak out. This was too big a deal for him, he said. I told him my goal was not to make him freak out, that if he needed to take it back, he could take it back. He took it back.
We still dated for a few weeks after that, I tried to keep an open mind. But when he told me that his married ex-girlfriend was coming to town, would be staying at his apartment, and they’d probably end up having sex, that was the final straw.
I still think to myself that I was such an idiot for going out with him in the first place. I shouldn’t have given him a chance. Anyone that says they have such a connection with you, and ends up trying to take home your friend? Not someone you should date.
I should have saved myself the trouble.
We dated for 6 months, but he was only my boyfriend for 15 minutes.
I had a horrible night last night with the Brit. A disaster of a date. Ug.
It started out well enough. We meet up, head down to chinatown. He'd never been down there. We walk around, get some dumplings and tea, look at everything. Get offered fake bags like 200 times. We're having fun, we're walking through Little Italy, then head up to the village. Stop at McSorleys for a beer. He's impressed by my knowledge of pubby NYC bars. He makes some joke about going home with him--well, kinda. I get uncomfortable, blush, turn pink, but am not knocking the idea. We both agree we need to drink more.
We walk some more and end up in this German restaurant on 3rd Avenue. We're having more drinks, sitting at the bar, laughing. Having a great time. Teasing more. He mentions something about when were dating before, like in September--we have a disagreement about the timing. I tell him I keep a journal, I'll check the timing. He says "You don't have a journal. You have a blog." Haha, I laugh. "Sure I do," I say, referring to the "public" blog I keep that everyone knows about. "No," he says. "You have a dating blog."
At this point I think I begin to hyperventilate. The bartender seems to notice that I don't look happy. I down my glass of wine, and order another. The Brit handles this very well, though, tells me he's never read it, that one of his friends had found it, back in September, when we were dating before. Tells me what his nickname is, which confirms that it's the right blog. He assures me that he won't read it. Tells me that everything will be fine. It takes him about an hour to calm me down. When he takes a bathroom break, the bartender asks if I'm in trouble--and I tell him the situation. "Uh oh," he says.
Of course, my solution to everything is to drink more. (Regular readers will remember that this solution almost always ends in disaster for me. You'd think I'd learn.) Exclusivity is discussed, and agreed to. ("Yippee!" I think. "I have a BF!!") But then all the extra alcohol kicks in. Basically we both get too drunk, and I tell him all my deep dark secrets. Nothing too horrible, but it was waaaaaaaay too early to share that kinda stuff with him. And then, of course, I can't stop referring to the bartender as "the cute bartender" and of course, that annoys the Brit. We end up having a mini argument, but he clears things up. "This is our first argument," he jokes. But yet, we can't seem to recover from everything I said. We left things very up in the air. Still nothing physical between us. I'm not sure he ever wants to see me again--and of course, he's probably reading this now.
Larissa's post today is all about the good and bad of keeping a blog. For me the bad has been far outweighing the good. I've met some fabulous new people because of it, including Larissa herself, and it's been great to have an outlet for my thoughts and feelings. But the anonymity thing isn't working. This will be the 3rd guy that I've dated that's found the damn thing--and no one I'm dating needs to know every thought in my head--I sure wouldn't want to know theirs! Perhaps it's time for me to retire?
My first response to reading Neil Strauss's (aka Style) The Game was that of disgust. "Who are these guys?" I thought. I felt that all of these tactics were manipulative and wrong, despite the fact (or perhaps because of the fact) that I probably would fall for all of them.
Then I met a real PUA (Pick Up Artist) in the flesh. Dolly and I called him out on his behavior, which was soooo much fun. Then she ended up getting coffee with him. Despite our knowledge of what was going on, she couldn't resist.
We both became fascinated by the pick-up community, to the point where we started reading their material, the online forums. So that we could be hip to their tricks.
And then it happened again. We ran into another PUA. This one set his sights on Sarah, and before you know it, they're making out (BTW, Sarah and the Manchild broke up--she hasn't posted in an age). Ummmmm, okay.
So it was clear to us, at this point, that even with our knowledge of what was going on, these PUAs were on to something.
What were they onto? The art of flirting, I like to say.
I had another date with the British Scientist last night (Round 2 Date 5, or Date 8). We still haven't had any contact more than a few kisses (This is a patient man!!!). But we had a great date. And as I reflected on my way home, I realized why. He was unconsciously employing many of the PUA techniques on me--and I loved it. He used several "negs" (these are teasing, negative statements, to disarm a girl, like telling her friends "is she always this unbearable?" in a cute, funny way). He was cocky funny. Basically he did what a PUA would do, without the routines. And I ate it up.
Now, I'm sure the Brit has not read The Game--and I'm sure he has no idea what a PUA is. But as we've gotten to know each other better, and gotten more comfortable, we've slipped into this teasing-flirting behavior. Which happens with any relationship, as it progresses, I think. The PUAs are only creating this behavior early on, and consciously. Is that bad? I don't think so.
So by now most of you have heard about the Village Voice scandal today. No?
The cover story in this week's issue was all about PUAs--a subject Dolly and I are both obsessed with now, after reading The Game and running into quite a few PUAs when we've been out. Well it seems that when discussing one of our famous nights out, Dolly's blog was quoted (I'm mentioned too--as all of you know, she calls me "Polly" on the blog). Exciting right? Yeah, but it seemed strange to both of us. Why not just email her, to make sure the story they quoted was true? Why not email her to see if she had any other stories? It seemed a bit odd, but still, to have your blog in the Voice --what a coup!
Okay, well, it turns out, according to Gawker, Dolly wasn't the only source not contacted. It turns out whole portions of the story are MADE UP (both Dolly and I thought so -- we're the only girlies we know that are hip to the PUA tricks, and Sarah now, too, because she's hooked up with one, and has borrowed my copy of The Game).
To make matters worse, Dolly pitched a similar story directly to the editor of the VV about 6 weeks ago (yes, I've seen the email, I can attest to the truthfulness of this statement). What's going on over there?
But the good news? Dolly's blog is now getting a ton of attention--her hits per day have doubled. We've always joked and laughed about writing a female response to the game--it looks like with all this attention, Dolly's going to get her chance!!!! Go Dolly!
