Date Three. Part Two.

“You clearly didn’t think this through, did you?” asked Archie.

“Noooo,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “No, I didn’t.”

He sighed.

“What’s going on? How was the date last night?” Lux appeared at my desk. She was holding a large Starbucks coffee and was still wearing her coat.

“The date was amazing,” Archie answered. “Like the best stranger first-date ever.”

“Really??” she asked. Her eyes were shining.

“Yes,” Archie continued. “They bonded over comedies from the 70s and their love of cheese and talked about her Fitbit and talked about their families and even have a lot of similar goals.”

“He even asked to see a picture of the cat,” I said sadly.

“And he’s totally allergic and doesn’t like them. So that’s a big deal,” Archie said. He took a sip from his own large Starbucks coffee.

I looked down at my thumb and picked at the smudged polish. “He said he’d just take Claritin.”

Lux shook her head. “So I don’t get it. What’s with the face? This is all great!”

“He’s asked her out again and sent his personal email.”

“And?”

“It’s – ” Archie started.

“It’s got his full name in it,” I broke in, pointing at my laptop screen, which displayed Bradley’s message.

“Oh good,” she said. “Did you google him?”

“Of course I did.” I rolled my eyes at her. “And he’s exactly who he says he is.”

“That’s the problem,” said Archie.

The realization set in and the mood darkened.

“Oooh,” she breathed. “And you can’t send him your email because it has your last name and he’d google you and see the blog.”

“Exactly,” Archie said with resignation.
Continue reading Date Three. Part Two.

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Date Three. Part One.

“Are you going to do a statement lip?”

“Well, considering I don’t even know what that means, I think the answer is no.”

“Okay,” Lux said, as she pulled up a variety of nail polish images on her office laptop. “From what you’ve told me about your outfit, here are some choices of what I think you should wear.”

“You have a whole Pinterest board just for nails?” I asked.

“Of course!” she exclaimed.

“I think I like that one,” I said and pointed to a deep purple shade.

“Good choice,” she said, nodding. “Very popular for Winter.”

I sat back in my chair and sighed. “God, I hate getting manicures. I was supposed to do it yesterday but I blew it off.”

She was wide-eyed. “Why would you hate getting manicures?”

“Because I hate strangers rubbing my hands with all that lotion and they clip your cuticles and the filing noise makes my teeth hurt and it’s all just so gross!” I shuddered. “And not to mention, then you have to sit there for 10 minutes while your nails dry and you can’t touch anything, not even flip through a magazine, and it’s so supremely a waste of time and SO BORING.” Continue reading Date Three. Part One.

Sorry Fellas.

“Hi Bradley – I’m so sorry but I think it might be best if we reschedule. I’m home sick from work today and I’m not sure how I’ll be feeling tomorrow. The last thing I want to do is think I’ll feel better and then cancel last minute and waste your time. Is there any evening you are available next week?”

And then I wrote something which I thought was cute and charming. I’m not going to put it here, just in case it wasn’t so cute and charming after all. I don’t want to know. Continue reading Sorry Fellas.

Breaking the Fourth Wall.

Usually I hate it when bloggers devote an entire post to speak directly to their audience. Nine times out of ten, it’s to sell something or ask for donations or beg people to share/repost their site or something equally annoying. I’ll roll my eyes and click out immediately, sighing in judgement. I’m a bit more sympathetic now as, having seen a little of the (surprisingly extensive and brutal) world of blogging, I more understand it. But still, I don’t like it.

Today, I am breaking my own rule. Continue reading Breaking the Fourth Wall.

99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall, 99 Bottles of Beer. Take One Down, Pass It Around…(Well, you know the rest).

“Okay. So it’ll start like this: ‘You know those movies, those movies you can watch over and over and never get sick of? They might not be particularly good but for whatever reason they strike something in you and they become your go-to movies whenever you can’t figure out what to watch. I have three. In no particular order, they are: ‘Rock Star,’ which I love because the music reminds me of high school and it makes me nostalgic for my hometown’s illicit parties when parents were out of town. We’d lift our beers together and scream out Motley Crue and make out on porches and it honestly felt like life couldn’t get any better. The next is ’17 Again.’ I love this one because Zac Efron is brilliantly hysterical in it. No really, he is – ‘”

“No really, he is.” Marlie said nodding and took a sip of her coffee. We were wrapping up our Sunday-After-New-Year’s-Brunch at Park Avenue Winter and I was telling her about my next post. Continue reading 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall, 99 Bottles of Beer. Take One Down, Pass It Around…(Well, you know the rest).

Sometimes, It Just Is What It Is.

“So what’s going on with The Crush, Trace?”

“Oh that,” I replied, as I pulled a rumpled denim shirt from my suitcase.

“Yeah, that.” His voice was tinny, as I had him on speaker. It was New Year’s Eve and Zeke had called to check in. He and Boomer were visiting his family in Oregon and I was in NYC unpacking from my California Hometown Holiday trip. “You seemed so into it. And then we never heard about him again.”

“I found out he was seeing someone.” I smelled the armpit of the shirt. Had I worn this? I couldn’t remember. Continue reading Sometimes, It Just Is What It Is.