An ALMOST Unacceptable Second Date Turned Awesome

So some of you hoped for more of the story of my Drunken Falafel Date. Oh dear reader, there is much, much more. Let’s start at the very beginning:

I almost didn’t reply to his initial message. It was friendly but generic, void of any indication he’d read any part of my online dating profile. Call me old-fashioned, call me an Only Child Cliché, but I expect a message that’s written just for me. It takes all of 30 seconds to throw in some bullshit from my “Six Things I Can’t Live Without”. I am worth more than the same two sentences you copy/paste to all the girls.

I rolled my eyes at his message but his picture caught my eye. The image showed him standing in Times Square, sandwiched between a Cookie Monster and an Elmo, a huge grin on his face. I couldn’t help but smile. It was the perfect companion picture to one of my favorite pictures:

Okay, I look way sexier in this picture than he looked in his. Not to toot my horn but come on, my lipstick is perfect. Thanks to photographer Matt Harvey for making me look so good!

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Throwback Thursday: Picked Up on a Park Bench

I’m sitting on a bench in Central Park reading Shopgirl. The story differs from your typical chick lit novella in that it is written by a man, Steve Martin to be exact. It is written in a refreshing 2nd person style. I’m enjoying it. Engrossed in my reading, semi-sickly relating to the protagonist and wondering what the comments on my own life would be were they reported in this way. Suddenly I’m approached.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Having just been questioned by a father and daughter as to where one can find boats, (my answer: nooo idea, but I felt sillily cool that I look like someone who would know) I look up expecting a tourist: “Where’s the MET?” Or a bum: “Gimmie a quarter.” Or a creeper: “Buy a Rolex from the side of my trench coat.” Read More

Confessions of a Chronically Late New Yorker

If you’ve ever met me…it was probably 10-15 minutes after we intended. I’m notorious in the tardiest of ways….

Confession #1 I’m the theatre patron who watches the first scene from a tiny screen in the lobby, who the usher brings in with a flashlight at the first set change. This is distracting to the audience, distracting to the actors, it’s shitty, shitty theatre etiquette. I’m super aware of all that and still have arrived at 8:15PM for no good reason.

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A Walk in the Dark in Central Park

Oh sure, Daylight Savings Time, I enjoyed stumbling into bed on Halloween at 3AM rather than 4AM as much as the next New Yorker. But now the sun sets before 5 and all I want to do is complain about you! Gah! You suck, Daylight Savings Time, you’re a big black hole of LAME!

Welcome to my internal monologue upon leaving work yesterday. It was pitch dark outside (total lie, it’s never near pitch dark in this metropolis) and I was cranky. Instead of hopping on the subway, I decided to take a walk. I soon found myself at the south-east entrance of Central Park.

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Someone Made a Fake Online Dating Profile with a Photo Stolen from My Blog

I can’t remember a single time someone said to me, “You totally look like so-and-so!” and I agreed. So when a former co-worker sent me a message on Facebook saying “You have a doppelgänger on Plenty of Fish”, I braced myself. He sent the picture and I hesitated to look at it.

“If she’s not as cute as me, I’m going to be offended,” I thought to myself. Of course curiosity got the best of me. I looked.

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Whoa. She was 100% as cute as me.

Because she WAS me!

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