I thought we were going to go out for drinks, not have a sleep over!

I decided to move to Manhattan so I’d have an easier social life.

I was wrong.

It was difficult living in Long Island and going to events in the city. I always had a million bags with me and was wearing goofy work clothes to an after-work party. Then, it was a whole ordeal getting a train back to Long Island.

I remember one time, driving in to a party with my LI girlfriends. They drove. They were so late picking me up, that we literally missed the party!

I really have a pet peeve about lateness. But that’s a whole other blog post I guess.

So, once I started living in the city, yes, getting myself to events was easier. The problem is, NOBODY ELSE LIVES IN THE CITY!!!

None.

None of my friends live in the city. Half live in LI. Half in New Jersey.

So, when there is an event in the city, they want to sleep over on my couch.

Now, I’m a generous kind of gal. But I’m no push over.

If I let them stay over once, they would assume they’d sleep over every time they bought a pack of gum.

They’d be like, “Ok. So, we’ll go out for dinner, then drinks, then in the morning blah, blah, blah.”

“Huh? Um. Excuse me? Did I say anything about the morning?”

Why is it, if I make plans to have drinks with someone that I have to be prepared to make them coffee, scrambled eggs and bagels the next morning?

Fuck that shit.

I wanna sleep late in the morning. I want to walk around my apartment with hairy legs and my hair in a three-foot afro all morning. And not brush my teeth until noon, dammit!

If I have company I can’t do that. AND my place has got to be tidy.

What the Fu--?

Ok Mom. So I didn’t curse that time. That one was for you. You, who does not even read this unless I force you too!

I once had a friend who wanted to hang out in the city. We were making plans for weeks. Then she popped the question. “What are we gonna do the next morning?”

To which I replied, and which is the reason I no longer have this friend, “Oh. I thought we were going to a concert, not having a sleep over.”

Ok. So was that so bad?

The friend then said, “Oh. Then let’s do it another time.”

You mean to tell me that if this person wasn’t going to be able to sleep over my place that we weren’t going out?

Yep. It’s true. And it’s not just one person. This happens all the time.

F- them!

If they want to sleep in the city so bad, let them pay rent and New York prices. Or get a friggin’ hotel room.

It’s different if I offer. But THEY ask. How rude.

It just happened again the other day, which is why I’m thinking about this again. A friend from Jersey asked if I wanted to go to an event with her in May. I said yes. She said, “Can I sleep on your couch?”

Damn! I was caught off guard. I didn’t know what to say. How to respond. But it’s hard finding girlfriends in New York City. And beggars can’t be choosers, right?

So, I guess I should clean the bacteria off my couch.

Hmmm. Or should I??

Naked Without My Cell 2

So?

What do you think I did?

Nope.

Didn’t buy an iPhone.

Thought that, until I made up my mind, I would re-activate my old Palm Treo instead.

A couple of months ago, my sis, Snookie, helped me do some winter cleaning. At that time we came across a box of my old cell phones and faceplate covers. Snookie was like, “Hand ‘em over! We can donate them.”

“Um …

… O …

… K … ?”

I somehow felt quite uneasy about this. But I succumbed to the peer pressure.

I handed over the box to her with trepedation.

Now, here I am, three months later. With a dead Blackberry.

I emailed Snookie. “Could you please bring me those cell phones I gave you? I think I’ll hook one up until I can decide about the iPhone.”

“Huh? What cell phones?”

Whaaaaaat?? What the heck was she saying? Doesn’t she remember the donation/winter cleaning exchange? How could she not?

I emailed her back. “Remember? The ones I gave you for the flea market?”

Two days later, “Oh yeah! Now I remember.”

Thank goodness!

So I hooked up my tried and true, but beat to a pulp, held together with duct tape, Palm Treo. Great phone. And it still works, unlike my Crackberry.

When I got to the Verizon store, all they did was try and sell me another phone the whole time. Jeez. Can’t I just get my silly old phone connected, please?

So, now when folks ask me why I didn’t just get the iPhone 4, I say I’m waiting for the iPhone 5.

I just hope that the iPhone 6 doesn’t come out one month after that!

Naked Without My Cell

My Blackberry broke.

And I feel a little naked.

No calls, no texts, no email.

I’m a bit uneasy.

But it’s freeing at the same time.

So, now the question is, to iPhone or not to iPhone?

I’ve been jonesing for the iPhone since its inception in 2008. But I didn’t want to go AT&T. That’s a whole other story. I have to hang out the window of my apartment to even get half a signal with AT&T.

When the iPhone became available for Verizon I was so excited finally to get one. Then I learned that the next generation of the iPhone, the iPhone 5, is coming out in the summer. So I would wait?

But the other day, my Blackberry died a premature death. And I am faced with the difficult aforementioned life question,

To iPhone or not to iPhone?

Attorney at Flaw. Part Deux.

… If there is a next time.

The Attorney called the following week.

We played telephone tag for a few days. He’d asked to take me out during the week. Given that I was still hungry from the last date, I was a bit hesitant. I also thought that we should make a plan for a date and him not call me to go out that day or the following day.

By the time we actually connected, it was Thursday night. He asked to go out this week. I pointed out that the week was pretty much over. And that I’d already made weekend plans. This did not go over very well with the counselor. He got a little huffy.

Hmmm.

I suggested we make a date for the following week.

He wanted to go out on a Monday night, in Long Island. I should take the Long Island Railroad to the venue and he would drive me back to the city afterwards.

Um. Let me think about this.

Um. In my nude patent leather peep-toe Christian Louboutins? I don’t think so.

Nope.

I told him that weekdays are a little tricky because of work the next day. He snapped back, “Well, that’s why I’m being nice enough to drive you back home afterwards.”

Well, what a gentleman.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

I continued to try to pin down a day for the following week, but he kept saying, “Well, you can let me know what day is good for you.”

Then I would say, “Well, Thursday is good.”

And he just kept telling me I could let him know.

So, that’s sort of how we left it.

I know the guy for a week and a half and he’s already having a diva fit on me.

I’m certainly not going to call him and tell him again that Thursday is good for me, am I?

Come to think of it, Thursday is probably not good anymore either. And neither is Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday!

I was going to go for a third date to try and figure this all out. But is it really necessary?

Am I done?

Do I need to learn any more?

So, is it me? Am I being too critical? Too demanding? Too ‘The Rules”?

Or is this just an Attorney at Flaw?

Please let me know what you think.

Attorney at Flaw

So, is it me? Am I being too critical? Too demanding? Too ‘The Rules”?

I met a man on an Internet dating site. He’s an attorney. We liked each other quickly and exchanged cell phone numbers. He called immediately and we made plans to have a first meeting that weekend. That Friday, I was on my way home from happy hour with co-workers, and I got a text.

“Wacha up to?”

“Happy hour.”

“Wanna meet up for a drink tonight?”

“Let’s just stick to the plan of our date this weekend.”

“Oh. I thought you’d be more spontaneous.”

Hmmm.

Is this guy already an asshole?

Maybe not. I’ll give him a chance.

So I met him that weekend.

He was in touch during the following week, and we made plans to see each other that Friday night at 7:30.

7:30. That’s dinner, right?

Yeah, I thought so.

So I didn’t eat ahead of time.

He offered to pick me up at my apartment. I said, “No. That’s ok. I’ll meet you there.”

He said it would be no problem for him to pick me up.

“Um, no. That’s ok. I’ll meet you there.”

I never have new dates know where I live.

So I get to the restaurant and he has a table at the bar lounge. Immediately I think, “Shit. I should have eaten before I came.”

And I should have, because he ordered drinks and a couple of appetizers. Spring rolls and grilled zucchini.

I had a nice time. But I was starving…

… and trashed.

I guess I better eat before I go out with this guy next time.