Every Day is Arbor Day when you are a Dog

Okay, so I've been dog sitting this beagle mix for the weekend, and I know how Jean feels. But the difference between our situations is that this dog is perfectly house trained, which means he has to go on walks. Many walks. And on these walks he is not happy to pee on one tree, no, rather he has got to pee on many trees. Like, every third tree is his property and he has to pee on it again to let the other dogs know. He gets this shit-eating-grin sense of satisfaction after every stop. And then it's on to the next tree. I'm like, "Seriously, Martini (that's his name, seriously) that last tree was good enough for the both of us. Let's go home, Project Runway is on." Then he's like, (if he could talk) "No, I want to space the urine out over several blocks, and besides I know you taped Project Runway." It's like all my guy friends who need be with many different girls because they've got something to prove. I only know a handful who have actually peed on said girls, but it is sort of the same thing. This is why I don't live with a man because I know he'll just want to go on "walks". And heck, maybe so do I.

Speaking of infidelity, we took Bonnie to this $5 psychic to find out who the father of her child is. You'll never guess what Rosa the Psychic said. She goes, "You don't need to know right now." I didn't have the heart to tell Bonnie that is the number one cop-out piece of crap a psychic would say, but for $5 what did she expect? Bonnie took it very seriously and this wave of relief just fell over her, I swear it was like she was on some spiritual plane. Sophie was certainly on something, but then again she always is. Jean was very quiet. Does she believe or was she just playing nice? I'll bet you $20 Jean went back to the psychic to ask about her and Nathan. Those two are totally going to get married.

Things are good with me and Andrew. Really good. Okay, he told me he is falling in love with me. I almost slept with him the other night, but I got nervous. Not about breaking the no-sex-contract my friends made me sign, but about taking our relationship to the next level. Like, commitment/sex/boyfriend. I want him to be that, I think. I'm glad he is being patient with me. I really did used to be a total whore, I am realizing that now. But all that sex was meaningless. Let's just say I've peed on enough trees to claim ownership of the greater tri-state area. And so I've found a tree with shade. And that scares the crap out of me.

You know you've got it bad when your blogs sound like a Judy Blume book.

Later, Bloggie

I Can Believe it's Not Butter

A very insightful advice columnist once said, "People would rather be right than happy." A lot of decisions and choices people make are because it is the "right" thing to do, or a fight with a friend takes a turn for the worse because they so want to be right. Can the two co-exist? Is it too early in the day to get introspective and if so, since when did 1:00 PM become too early in the day?

My friend Annabelle from San Francisco recently walked from an unsteady relationship with someone she cared a lot about, and asked me today if it was fair to the guy. I asked her if she was happier. She said yes. I said, then don't waste my minutes bitch, and don't ever call before noon. Click. That's me hanging up the phone. And I felt bad, because talking her through it would be the right thing to do, but I'm happier I got that extra hour of sleep.

Okay, so maybe there is something to be said about doing the right thing. I've sort of been seeing this guy, Andrew. I never made a move when he had a girlfriend- right thing to do. I really like him a lot though, and it frightens me. First of all, we can't have sex, because I'm taking this contract my friends made me sign seriously. He says he understands, but we almost slipped the other night. I wonder if there is a loophole for lovemaking. I'll have to ask Jean. I also don't want to screw this up. I'm kind of falling for him. Shut up, Bloggie, I know how I sound.

So Bonnie still doesn't know who the baby's father is. I'll tell you, this is borderline ridiculous. Greg called me the other day to ask my advice on something. He wanted to know if Bonnie would think naming the baby after his grandmother was stupid. Something about Jewish tradition. I said, "Sure... depends on who the grandmother is." It just slipped. Luckily he said, "Oh, my father's side". Whew. Unfortunately her name is Ethel. I wonder what Richard's grandmother's name is? Probably something beautiful, like Rose. That's a good name.

Jean is tripping on the fact that Nathan might be the one. Like, the real one. Some psychic said something to her about it. I told her, look, it's like butter versus processed dairy spread. You know the real from the fake. If you take two hot pieces of toast and put butter on one and processed dairy spread on the other, the butter melts. Jean's been melting for weeks. I often accept toast with the other stuff and pretend it's butter. F@#k that, I want some real butter, goddamnit. And not even that Hotel Bar Butter bullshit, I'm talking real, old school, comes straight from an udder and skimmed off the top from some hot farm hand in overalls, churned by a Quaker, straight to the bowl with a little spoon of sea salt, Euro style. And I also want some fresh bread. Okay, it occurred to me I forgot to eat breakfast.

Later, Bloggie.

My Big Fat Gay Crush

Why is it I always have crushes on gay men? I am a recent cable addict and I am in love with Daniel V. on Project Runway. I almost cried when he told the group he was gay. Like I didn't already know. I mean, what is it about effeminate unavailable men? Is it that they're sensitive, hot and fashion conscious and never in my life will I have a chance with them so that makes them more attractive? It seems I have a problem with unavailable men, emotionally or otherwise. It makes me want them more. I'm not a shrink, but I think that is what is called "unhealthy".

Take Andrew for example. We had that awkward sit down yesterday where he told me he has feelings for me (duh) but he sorta has a girlfriend. What the f@#k is "sorta"? I'll tell you what it is. It's I-like-you-but-I'm-scared-to-leave-my-comfortable-situation. There's two different kinds of guys in this city: Those that can't settle down because they want to get laid and those that do settle down because they want to get laid. I don't care what he says; He kissed me in the cab the other night. I told him, "Don't worry! I understand." But now I want him more. Again, unavailable=more attractive. Or maybe I'm just having a hard time admitting that I actually for the first time like someone.

The last two guys I "dated", if you want to call them that, were the 18 year old and the Belizian. The 18 year old was fun for company and narrative value, and the fact that he worshipped me was nice too. The Belizian was just reinacting a fantasy of mine to have a secret Latin lover. Mission accomplished on both ends but I don't miss them now that they're gone. But Andrew, damn. Now we're just "friends". Friends with sexual tension but no benefits. It's okay, the thought of having a relationship makes me want to vomit anyway.

Speaking of vomiting, I reviewed this new art piece down in SOHO where this ex-bulemic recreated vomit-like substances in jars and displayed them. It was "Instillation Art As Healing Process". Jean called it "a load of cowpie". I actually thought it was pretty interesting and the only reason I brought Jean along is because I know about her strict "Won't hold your hair back while you vomit" policy and I love watching her discomfort. One day she'll understand the most secret code of womanhood where ties are strengthened upon the ritual holding of the hair. It's a beautiful thing.

Well bloggie, off to start my day. Sophie and Bonnie are shopping for "baby things" and I said I'd meet up with them later. Jean says she might join us after she drops these dogs off she's been watching. I guess one of them peed on her couch thrice and she has to clean the cushions. I don't get how dog pee is game but your own friend's stomach lining is not.

See you, Bloggie

My Baby Sugardaddy

This week has been intense. My horoscope said it would be but I usually choose only to listen to the good horoscopes. Well, my week has been bad and good-and-weird. I'll start with the bad. Bonnie told us she's not sure who her baby's daddy is. No, I won't repeat that Bloggie, you'll just have to re-read that yourself. What? I know, I felt the same way. I mean, she swore up and down that it was Greg's. Was she just lying to us or did she really not do the math? I'm not mad at her, I'm just a little upset. I mean, Greg and I are pretty close and half of me just wants to tell him but the other half is beholden to Bonnie, obviously. I guess we'll just have to put up a good face until Bonnie gets the results. I won't say anything Bonnie, I just wanted to let you know how I feel.

Okay, the good-and-weird part. After my "We Both Hate Valentine's Day So Be My Non-Date" date with Andrew, we went out to dinner on Thursday. It turned into a fun night and in the cab on the way home before he got out he kissed me. On the lips, but in a quick, maybe we're just friends kiss. I have not replayed a moment in my head so many times since the three way kiss in that movie "Y Tu Mama Tambien". Which was also a pleasant reminder of my first threesome. I still replay that moment in my head sometimes, but maybe it's because I haven't had sex in weeks.

Which brings me to this darned falutin' sex contract. The girls say if I break it I have to pay $840. But if things progress at ALL with Andrew I would pay double. But waiting has gotten me this far so who knows. At the same time, if I would have broken it for anyone it would be the time I almost had sex with Andy Samberg from SNL and because of the contract I pawned him off on Sophie who now is having great sex with Andy Samberg from SNL. He could mack on my cupcake any day.

Jean and Nathan are screwing like bunnies but she won't give details. That kind of makes her look classier. No wonder she's dating a millionaire.

I can't wrap my head around all of this so I might go take a nap before work. Jean said she can't come by because she's "dog sitting" but I know that's a euphemism for choosing men over friends. I had a dog once and he was lucky if anyone ever came home. Dogs are resilient that way. Men aren't.

I'll keep you posted, Bloggie.

Dramarama

There is so much ridiculous teenage drama at my bar that I am about to lose my mind. There's bartenders sleeping with other bartenders, and same said bartender also sleeping with the barback's friend on the side, neither girls nor barback knows about said bartender sleeping with other bartender, everyone looks like a fool. I am so glad I'm not a part of that anymore. I used to be, but now I'm seeing things a lot more clearly. I think having this other job has helped. I'm sick of deception; secrets make the baby Jesus cry.

It's been great at my writing gig. I reviewed my first visual art show and the Editor-in-Chief loved it. He says he might want to give me a bigger workload. I swear bloggie, if I could write full time I think I might actually be happy for even one second. I'd still have my monumental financial and emotional problems weighing me down, but at least I'd have a job doing what I loved.

Okay, remember when I said secrets make the baby Jesus cry? I do have a secret and I have as a result lied. Secret: I have a crush on Andrew at work. A REALLY big one. Lie: I told him I liked Dave Matthews Band because he mentioned he liked one of their songs. I was like, "I LOVE Dave Matthews Band!" The second the lie came out of my mouth I realized I really must like him. You know when you are trying to impress someone and you start lying about random movies no one has seen, just because you want them to think you're as worldly as them, like, you and Werner Herzog may as well be best friends. I hear people do it all the time at my bar on first dates, "I LOVE Death Cab for Cutie!" Bullshit, you just saw them featured on the cover of Hipster Weekly. But I mean Dave Matthews Band? That's bad.

Sophie figured out I had a crush because she noted it took me an extra half hour to get ready this morning. It would be fine if she just mentioned it but instead she threw her arms in the air, screamed at the top of her lungs and ran around the apartment waving a mauve scarf in celebration. "Sara likes a boy!" I'm seriously going to change the locks when she goes to yoga class today.

Jean came by my bar last night and managed to keep her top on. We had one of those discussions that friends have when they are so exhausted with their lives they just talk- about something and nothing in particular. I guess things are going well with Nathan. It's good to see her... happy?

Bonnie has been "phasing out" her casting work but is still waiting for the Dave Chapelle account so when she's not pacing the floor she's furiously unpacking and mumbling. I overheard her swearing into a box yesterday, "Who goes to Africa when they want peace and quiet? You have $52 million dollars, you can BUY peace and quiet..." I hope she is not too stressed out.

Well, tonight I don't have any plans. Just sit around, maybe. No, I'm not waiting for Andrew to call, we're just friends and besides, someone like him probably has a million plans on a Saturday night. So I'll rent a movie. I'll rent a movie about two co-workers who get it on. That narrows it down to Jungle Fever, What Women Want, Working Girl, Jerry Maguire, Secretary, Anchorman, Barbershop, Love Actually, The American President, Barbershop 2: Back in Business, The Good Girl, Laws of Attraction, Broadcast News, Intern, Pretty Woman and Big. Or maybe I'll just rent a horror flick.

17 Again

Oh no oh no oh no I think I have a crush. Wait, hear me out, I have been quite sexually promiscuous since my break up with Paul. Two and a half years of being with one person will do that to you, and fooling around with your gay best friend during that time does not count as cheating, thank you. So when my friends hear the word crush they probably think I'm talking about another guy I want to bang. It makes sense especially because they forced me to be celibate for a while. But this is different... I haven't had a crush in years. I'm talking about the kind of crush that gives you little butterflies in your stomach and you feel like everything you do is stupid.

Well, I have a schoolgirl crush and it scares the crap out of me. I noticed it two days ago when I went to my internet writing job and I caught my co-worker/new friend Andrew looking at me during a staff meeting. The boss was talking and I looked over and caught him staring at me. And we held the stare for a bit too long. And then he did it- he looked away quickly. Holy shit, did I feel nauseous. We avoided each other for the rest of the day.

Now, I take extra pains to look good in the morning, and I look forward to seeing him. But I also don't know how to act in front of him. I think he feels the same way; now when we joke we're all nervous about it- at least I know I am. He made some dumb joke, and then I laughed too hard, and then he was like, "It wasn't that funny" but he looked embarrassed. I can only describe it as that strange feeling you get when someone catches you masturbating or vice versa- you just pretend nothing happened but you both know. That's only happened to me twice but I tell ya, it seals a relationship.

The girls are doing great. Jean's been going crazy about this boy, Nathan. I think she's just glowing in the fact that she found this guy, he happens to be a millionaire and then she really hit it big, literally. He has a huge penis. I think she's just freaked out that there is currently nothing wrong with him. I hate her.

Sophie has an actual date with that actor from Saturday Night Live. I am trying not to act jealous but hot-damn is she ever lucky.

Bonnie and I had our first disagreement in a long time. I told her she was torn between being a rich person but wanting to look spiritually grounded like a poor one. I told her, you're still salt of the earth but embrace the fact that the salty taste comes from a fine caviar. I think I could be a life coach. She should stop paying that quack of hers and give me free food for my advice. I'm hungry.

Okay, off to bed. I can't believe it's because I want to look good for work tomorrow. I hate crushes.

Threads are Twine

I haven't blogged in a while because... everyone sit down... I've actually been busy. Working! Like, at a real job. This arts review website gig is awesome! They're sending me out on my first real assignment today- some art show somewhere. I know it's a big deal because the head guy had it but he got sick and it was like Peter Parker at the Daily Bugle, when he gets his first Spider Man photo job and the guy with the mustache is like, "This is your big chance, kid". Except the person who gave me the assignment was a woman and she didn't have a mustache. I'm really excited.

I like my new co-workers, too. So much better than at the bar because these people are really doing what they love and they're not alcoholics. I doubt there will ever be an occasion to make out with any of these guys in the office bathroom and if that were the case I could actually sue for sexual harassment. This one guy who's also new, Andrew, is hilarious. We spent all day yesterday just joking around, sloppily speed-writing paragraphs and then letting the computer do an automatic spell check. My favorite one was "Threads are twine when I see the light poof day angled I love it". Awesome. Andrew is cool because I haven't had a guy friend in a while that I haven't had sex with. We went out for lunch a few days ago and just talked about nothing in particular. I even told him about the "No Sex for 3 Months" contract the girls made me sign and he thought it was hilarious. There's something about the contract I like because now the pressure of the flirt game is off and I can just be myself. I just reread that and I can't believe those words just escaped my fingers.

Oh, Jean came to the bar on Friday, ended up drunk and sans bra, and then acted all shocked about it the next day. I'm like, Jean, that's what happens when you come to my bar. Quite frankly, it sounds pretty tame to me. She's just embarrassed because she released a little bit of her inner slut. Everyone's got one. Jean's now reading this and going, "And the inner slut has teeny-tiny stilettos, and a little red dress..." I know how you think Jean. Embrace your inner slut. Just not too tight cuz she'll get the wrong idea.

I haven't seen Bonnie in days. I called her and she was "re-tiling". I was like, "Are YOU re-tiling or are you overseeing some Mexican guy while he does it?" She hung up on me.

Oh, I guess Sophie is having lunch with that guy from SNL. She better just talk about how great I am; she's already into this other guy, Zach. I hate it when your friends are in love. Everything is so happy all the time.

I have to officially cut things off with the 18 year old. Being a total bitch to him doesn't seem to be working. I'm a little discombobulated around him though because he seems like a different person to me all of a sudden. And not in a good way. Now when I see him it feels like every time he opens his mouth a lie falls out. It's worse than having lettuce in your teeth and there are no threads of twine big enough to floss that motherfucker out. So I guess I'll just keep avoiding him. I'm really good at that.

Well, off to this show, Bloggie. I'll keep you posted.

I Quit...You.

Okay, so I hung out with the girls last night, but after an already event filled evening they wanted to go bowling, and I just went home. I wanted to be alone and plus, my friend from the SAG committee has a DVD of Brokeback Mountain and I thought I'd go home and watch it. Great movie- not enough sex, but I liked it a lot. The problem with those "For Your Consideration" SAG DVD's is that every 30 minutes or so there's a crawl along the screen reminding you that this video is for authorized viewers only, so it ruins the moment to remind you that what you are doing is illegal. Luckily it was only during the dead-air space in the movie where they are just riding horses, but still. Great movie.

The part that wasn't great was when the 18 year old called and wanted to come over to "talk". I have been avoiding him for a few days because I told him I wanted to explore our relationship past sex, like, do we have anything in common? I just used that line because I can't tell him my friends made me sign that contract saying I wouldn't have sex for three months, but I guess this is part of the "learning" process; Sleeping with someone who I would also consider a "friend" or something. Guess what I found. The second I cut off the sex his ego went into a tailspin and he started acting like an asshole. So he came over and watched the movie with me. Of course he tried to have sex with me and I told him no. And then I had an epiphany- I really did just like him because the sex made me feel special. And now, he didn't make me feel so good. So I just turned to him and said, "It's like I'm Heath. Get it? I quit." I was kind of hoping he'd quote Jake and be like, "I wish I knew how to quit you." I think if he had said that I would have caved in and had sex with him. But he didn't. He cried a bit but I don't care. He's too young to understand. Wow, did I just say that? Does that make me old enough to?

Last night Jean had a date with like, a trillionaire, and it went really well. I am so jealous. Where can I find one of those? I tried to give her some advice but she got all huffy with me and was like, "I don't want your help" but later I know she took it because the date went great and my pointers are foolproof. Touch the hair + slow lean in x hand on thigh = I'm interested. Good for her; did I mention I was jealous?

Okay, so Sophie had a stupid corporate art show at Chase Manhattan, and that guy from SNL I met at that party was there! Oh, I worked that angle. I was like, "Hey, [You]" (I won't use his real name), "Remember me? This is my friend's work. You should buy it", and he did! Then he asked me to come back to his place and I had to say no... This contract is killing me. Then Sophie got his number. She better give me a commission on that photograph.

Bonnie is doing great but the move wrecked her. The apartment is so stupid it's retarded. I have got to stop using that word around her because she's pregnant and it is a very sensitive subject. I ran into Greg yesterday too, and he is just glowing. There's something about some men and babies. Like, there's guys who care and guys who don't. The guys who do are so into it you'd think they'd be willing to have the baby inside of them for 9 months. Then again most guys don't mind having beer bellies; it's a status thing. He was so happy but also kind of looked like a protective lion, ready to pounce if anyone got near his lioness and cubs. It's so feral.

Well, off to job #2. Did I mention I have my first assignment with the arts review website? I'm going to see this off-off-off Broadway play about these two guys. I hope they are cowboys.

See you, Bloggie