My Name Is M.N.......

And I'm a P.O.aholic.
I realized yesterday when I was foolishly hanging out with P.O. that I might be addicted to him.
I haven't really been addicted to anything before, so I'm not sure, but it seems like the
symptoms are all there. I think about him constantly. When I can't have him, I am prone to
violent outbursts, I have to hide him from my friends and family, sometimes he makes me
late to work, when he leaves I feel sad and empty. According to my addict friends, that's exactly
how one feels when they are hooked on drugs. Finally I can relate to drug addicts!
I also feel a lot of shame, which I'm pretty sure is another sign. The shame comes from the fact that
I know I need to quit, but I feel like I am powerless over my addiction.
I'll quit for a week or two, but then I'm right back where I started, drunk text messaging and hating myself.
I feel like I'm in a shame spiral.
I know that the only thing that will help is if I can find a distraction from my addiction.
Maybe I'll go shopping after work.

Oh Baby

So I had lunch with R.B. today and decided to tell him how I'm getting sick of how difficult it is to make plans with him.
Anytime I try to get together with him, we go back and forth via text message and then end up not hanging out.
It's very annoying and I just don't really feel like playing games with someone at this point.
I'm not interested in having a boyfriend right now, so I don't feel like I need to be going through a bunch of effort to hang out with someone. I just want some sex and maybe someone to see a movie with once in a while.
Anyway, I had asked him if he wanted to go to a party with me on Saturday night and he said he had to go to a baby shower on Sunday. I asked what that had to do with the party on Saturday and he said that the shower was for his baby. What now?
Turns out, some girl he used to date is pregnant. And she's having the baby. So he explained that he has been acting kind of shifty and weird because he has a lot going on in his life right now. I'll say.
He's also having knee surgery, though I didn't find that nearly as disturbing as the whole baby thing.
Looking for the silver lining, I asked him if I could call him daddy if we ever had sex, and he said yes.
I just wanted to see if I could get something sexy out of this whole un-sexy situation.
Luckily I'm not really interested in him as a boyfriend, only as the owner of one of the largest hogs I've ever felt.
So the baby thing shouldn't be too big of an issue for me.

Let The Bad Times Roll

Most of the famous people I find attractive live in far off places like Hollywood and appear to me only on t.v. or in magazines. But Heath Ledger was different. He lived in my neighborhood up until a few months ago, when he split up with his girlfriend. I have seen him walking down Smith Street and pushing his kid in a stroller down Hoyt. I knew which house was his and he was an actual real person. Which somehow makes it even sadder that he died yesterday. I think there was a part of me that thought that we would really hit it off if he took the time to get to know me. We could go get a beer at The Boat, which I've heard was one of his hangouts in the neighborhood. Or get the cheese plate at Robin Des Bois, another place he frequented. He would have seen that I am more than just a chunky middle aged woman who is destined to live in her parent's basement with 14 rescued cats. He would have seen that inside, I am every bit as fun and interesting as Mary Kate Olsen. But I missed my chance. He moved into the city a few months ago and started hanging out with models and druggies, apparently. And since I am neither, he probably wouldn't have been interested in me. But somehow, when he was strolling around Brooklyn, I felt like he was just a normal, super hot guy who I maybe could have made out with at the bar. And now I'll never have that chance.

Bath Time

Last night I went with my friend R.B. to the Russian and Turkish Baths in the East Village. At first I was a little hesitant about going, since a lot of the reviews I read about it mentioned the rampant sexual harassment that occurs there. And then I thought, is that really a negative? And decided to give it a try. You pay $30 for a day pass and stay as long as you want. They do massages and shaves, and you can get beaten with a thing that looks like a broom made out of leaves. I got there promptly at 7:00pm and was supposed to meet R.B downstairs, but I couldn't find him, so I just went in on my own. I was expecting to see a bunch of old Russian men in towels, sitting around with their wieners showing. Instead, there were tons of attractive people in their 20's and 30's walking around in bathing suits. It was like being at the beach, but with no sand in my ass. There were different steam rooms and saunas and a freezing cold plunge pool that you dunked yourself in when you got hot. There was also a "Russian Steam Room" that I walked into and immediately walked out of. It was the hottest place I have ever been in in my life. I worried that I might die. Later, R.B. convinced me to go back in there and it was okay as long as you sit on a low step. When people got hot, they grabbed a plastic bucket full of ice water and dumped it over their heads. It was crazy.
Everyone was incredibly friendly and it was a very laid back atmosphere. R.B. knew lots of people, and we went from room to room, chatting with everyone and sweating. It was like this whole other society in New York that I never knew existed. After I started to prune, I told R.B. that I'd had enough. I took a shower and got changed in the locker room, which was the only unpleasant part of the experience. It was really small and there was wet carpeting on the floor and I had to be naked in front of strangers, which I don't like. But other than that, it was a very interesting way to spend a Sunday night. I even forgot I was unemployed and broken hearted for a couple of hours. A+

Two Weeks Notice

Remember in an earlier post I talked about how much I hated my new job?
Well, dreams really can come true.
Yesterday I got let go. I hate saying "fired" because it sounds so horrible and demoralizing, but I guess it's really the same thing.
And it couldn't have come at a better time, as I am going through a breakup and just generally feeling awesome. So needless to say, I was in quite a state when I left the office last night. And once again, my painkiller of choice was P.O. Only this time, it wasn't just sex I was after. I really just needed him as my friend to be there for me. And he came through like a champ. And then he came in me like a champ. I feel slightly better today, though I'm now entering the stage of grief where you start plotting your revenge on the person who fired you. And thinking about what I can steal from the office. So far I've got some matches and a bottle of Lubriderm. That'll show 'em.

One Night Standout

I think that one night stands have a bad rap. I mean, what's so wrong with needing sex, finding some nice stranger to give it to you, and then not wanting to see them again?
For me, the one night stand has never been too bad. I've only had a couple that resulted in actual sex, though I've had quite a few drunken incidents that didn't make it all the way. One guy and I took a bath and he shaved my legs for me. It was delightful. Until I found out he was a heroin addict. A lot of the time you just feel kind of disappointed and sad afterwards. But occasionally they turn into nice little relationships. I've experienced both. And as I travel along this breakup road, I start to wonder if maybe I should give the one-nighter another chance. Of course, the only person I really want touching me is P.O., but since that always turns out to be a bad idea, I am thinking that some nameless piece from the bar might be just what the doctor ordered. I could just close my eyes and pretend he's someone else, which is probably what he'd be doing anyway.

Crappy New Year

What is it about the holidays that makes you feel 500 times worse than you normally do?
Like if you're usually only borderline miserable and suicidal the rest of the year, the period between December 24th
and January 1st makes you think it might be a good idea to take the plunge and swallow that handful of pills you've been saving.
And if you're going through a breakup, like I seem to do every couple of weeks, this desire to finally
end it all becomes much stronger. Thankfully, today is January 1st, which means that tomorrow I go back
to work and no longer have the luxury of sitting on my couch staring at my cell phone, willing P.O. to call
or text me.
I'm not sure why we chose to schedule our latest breakup to coincide with me having 2 weeks off of work.
It was definitely a case of bad planning.
Not only did I have tons of time off that I could have used to have a bunch of sex, but I also had loads of time to sit by myself and think about all the things I don't want to think about. I have organized my life in a way that usually leaves me very little time to ponder. Which is a good thing. But having two weeks off work and no boyfriend to hang out with left me with countless hours of quality time with my neurosis, which is not good. Even with two trips out of town, I still had way too much alone time with my thoughts. I got to sit and think about what P.O. was doing with all of his time off, which in my fertile imagination usually involved lots of cocaine and prostitutes. I got to think about my job and how much I don't like it. I got to think about New York and how much I really don't like it.
And I decided that I need to make some changes.
I realized that if I don't have P.O. and I don't have a job that I like, there really isn't much reason to stay in New York. So I decided that 2008 is going to be the year I Escape From New York.