FINALLY

So, it FINALLY happpened. I got some LIP on LIP action. And much like the fireworks over the manhattan sky line, it was explosive. Not the kiss per se, but the fact that I finally got some. Thank God. I was about to resort to some totally sleazy measures and lower my standards about 4 levels. Luckily, the boy was cute. We "met" online of course, and he actually came out and met me and my coworkers at this bar in the E Village. We were all drinking and hanging out and he showed up and assimilated into the group quite nicely. So, after drinking for a few hours with everyone at happy hour, someone gets this amazing idea to go sing karaoke. So, there is this karaoke place a few streets away, and we show up and are quickly given a room. See, here in NYC, it is awesome, because you get your OWN karaoke room so you can sing and act a fool without strangers watching.

So we get in there and I immediately take the microphone because I am secretly an American Idol, Broadway singing fool - oh wait - not so secretly. Everyone knows homo can sing. So people start drifting out and there are about 3 people left - including me and the boy - and we totally just start making out. Maybe it was my amazing rendition of Don't Let the Sun Go Down, maybe it was my stunning good looks, but we just made out - in front of coworkers. Not my classiest of moments - but hey, a boys got needs. Anyway, I tried to get him to come back to my apartment, to no avail. But in the end, I got what I needed and wanted. A good solid makeout session in a small room in a Japanese karaoke bar. Holler!!

So, my future roommate Lisa and I met last night for a couple of drinks after work. This week has been hellacious as our company has been going through this intense systems migration and I have been working 12 hour days and basically wanting to curl up in a ball and sleep during any off hour I had. Well, since Lisa had been begging me to pay her my deposit, we decided to meet up for a couple of drinks. Turns out, people like to get money that they are owed. Who knew? I meet up with Lisa on the corner of 43rd and 10th - a place where I might need to start acquainting myself with regularly if I don't get any male on male lip action soon. We head over to 9th avenue where there are lots of good restaurants and bars, and I instantly stop because I see a sports bar. Perfect. It is called Mercury Bar, which Lisa makes clear to me is NOT the same as Mercury Bar in Murray Hill, which apparently is home to college kids who call older people ma'am and sir. Even 25 year old "older people". No thanks - I like my potential maker outers to be older than me - usually much older - although I am trying to aim for a 10 year older than me rule as of late. But there is just something about a man in a wheel chair with a catheter that is just so hot. Ahh, I digress ...

So, we get to the bar and order drinks. I pull out my check book to pay Lisa and it definitely looks like I am paying her for her "services" if you know what I mean. We are both comfortable with that. We proceed to chit chat and banter and the bartender, who is a girl, comes over and asks if I need another drink. I order a beer and she does not ask Lisa for anything. So when she comes back I ask if Lisa can have another vodka soda. The bartender gets it for me and smiles at me all while pretty much ignoring Lisa. This went on for our next 3 drinks! I made small talk with the bartender with my voice lowered an octave as to not appear a raging homo. Apparently it worked. Lisa told me that she was definitely hitting on me. Of course, Lisa is pissed because "what if we were dating?" Ahh, we can only dream. As much as I am in desperate need of a make out, I have not yet resorted to kissing girls. Not yet anyway ...

Valentine's Night ...

So, after roaming around the city all day alone, and having my first boyfriend ever over for dinner that night (non romantically), we decided to head to a couple of parties. Steve had a party that he was invited to that we were going to hit up first before going to a party that I was invited to. And let us say that the guy who invited me to his party I had not even met. He had been a potential roommate I had met on Craigslist while I was looking for apartments in NYC, and we had stayed in touch. So, take my awkwardness, and then think about me heading to two parties where I was going to know absolutely no one. Awesome.

So, we leave my apartment and walk in the cold a few blocks to the first party. We walk in and it is ridiculously crowded. Apparently having parties in NYC is nearly impossible because people live in apartments 1/3 the size of places in Atlanta. We squeeze our way into the apartment and I find a place to hide my Absolut Mandarin. Normally, I wouldn't hide the vodka, but it was a present for the party I was actually invited to, so I needed a place to stash it. After hiding it in a bedroom, Steve and I walk out, erm, scratch that, squeeze out of the bedroom towards the table with liquor on it. I manage to somehow pour myself a vodka cranberry and shuffle off into the corner. Steve waves at a couple of people awkwardly, but I seem to think that he barely knows them as well. I am ready to leave when the most awkward boy stumbles over to me. Not awkward in a way I can be socially awkward until I have had 5 vodkas, but awkward in a way that it is apparent he is completely messed up on drugs. He tries to kiss me immediately, and I push him off of me. In retrospect, I have yet to kiss anyone in this city and its been 15 days, so I have no idea why I pushed him off of me. Meth or Ecstacy is just not that cute of a quality to me. Anyway, I watch him dance around pulling his shirt up and exposing his chest for around 10 minutes before I decide we should leave.

Steve and I leave and head over to my party. Brad, the guy who invited me, buzzes us in and we walk up to his apartment. His party is completely packed as well, and again, I know no one so I instantly walk over and open up my vodka and pour myself a tall one. This should help me become more talkative I reason, so I definitely enjoyed the heavy hand. After finally meeting Brad, I walk around the party finding one of the few girls there and instantly becoming a fast friend. Anita, the girl in the picture, and I have fun talking about gabbing. Why I feel like I can talk to girls and straight boys (her husband included) is beyond me. Why can I not talk to gays the same way? Who knows? Not me. Anyway, Brad had all these funny hearts on his wall that said inappropriate things, so of course I picked one and put one on. That seemed to ignite some interest in me, and I talked to some people for the rest of the night. And while I went home alone on Valentines Day, it was nice to get out and meet some gay guys. Too bad I didn't really get anyone's numbers, but hey, baby steps right ... More to come ...

Valentine's Day

So, waking up on Valentine's morning the night after hearing how I broke Mr. President's heart, I felt a little bad. I decided that I would spend the day venturing out into the city. I heard of a sale at Patagonia down in Soho. and needing a rain coat, I decided it was a good place to walk around and avoid Valentine's Day in general. Considering I have only had 1 Valentine's Day date ever, with my first boyfriend ever Steve, as freshman in college, I really find the day quite annoying. And especially since when Steve and I went out to dinner in Dupont Circle that night, he wore the brightest red sweater I have ever seen, basically burning my retina's and causing irreversible damage, I find people who wear red on Valentine's Day to be utterly reprehensible.

Anyway, I leave my apartment, dressed tastefully in pink, not red, mind you, and head to Soho to walk around looking for Patagonia. Again, the subway screws me. I got on the first train that comes to the station, and since I am extremely impatient, I didn't bother to look to see if it was the correct train. Well, of course it wasn't. The train that I got on did not stop at the station that I needed, so I got off at the stop prior to the one I was told about on Hopstop.com I decide it is a little adventure and get off and find my way into Soho. I find Patagonia and see the giant SALE sign outside and think to myself that buying myself a Valentine's Day gift was the perfect way to feel great. Well, apparently the rest of NYC had heard about the sale, and walking into the store was like walking into a store that sold Jean Shorts on the campus of University of Florida. It was total pandemonium with people acting like it was the last sale on earth. Finding an adorable coat that is $190 off, I decide I should buy it. I turn and look at the line ready to check out, and it is 40 people long. Dejected, I hang the coat up. I just don't have 1 hour to stand in line. The sad thing is, I did have an hour to stand in line as I don't really have a ton of friends here yet, but its the principle people!

I leave Soho and head towards Fashion Week. I meander around trying to get a look to see if there are any celebrities, however, again being impatient, I just snap a photo and move on.
I walk up to Central Park in search of Whole Foods. I was craving Sushi. And even though my new friend at work Julia had just gotten food poisoning from the Spicy Tuna roll she got at Whole Foods, I was craving it. Clearly, the fact that she was vomiting all night and basically slept on her bathroom floor, was appealing to me. Maybe I would get so lucky and lose some weight in the process. I find Whole Foods, and enter into a store where Valentine's Day threw up. Roses, balloons, and everything else red you could imagine encompassed the store, and the freak New Yorkers picking up Valentine's Day treats was just too much again for me to handle. I walked around through the masses of people and picked up sushi, some crackers, and a couple of other things I needed. I finally make my way to the check out line, and it, like Patagonia, is probably an hour long wait. Again dejected, I return all of the things I had in my basket and jetted out of that store. And as I am leaving the shops at Columbus Circle, I run straight into Mr. President. Oh, and I am wearing his favorite sweater. So, I awkwardly say something like "erm, uhh, yea, I'm wearing your Sweater. I wanted to wear it one last time before I gave it back to you" which I clearly have no intention of doing as I have had it for over a year, and it is an adorable blue and white cable knit Ralph Lauren sweater which looks divine on me.

Well, I finally go to the little grocery store by my house to pick up dinner and wine. And realizing I had a couple of parties to attend that night, I invite Steve, my first boyfriend from college over for Valentine's Dinner - and drinks - before we head to our parties that night.

So, my second Friday night in the city, and again, I am tired. Going out Thursday night and working all day Friday really wiped me out. Apparently being 27 is rough. I used to be able to hang and go out every night, but these days it is less than easy to be a functioning drunk. Blast!

So anyway, in homage to Carrie Bradshaw and Mr. Big, I thought I would bring up my own Mr. Big. We'll call him Mr. President. Mr. President is the President of a major company. I met him in Atlanta at a bar called Blakes, and when I met him, he was dating a model in NYC. Go figure. After hanging out with him for a while, I finally got him to break up with his model boyfriend and start dating me. However, being completely messed up in the head, the second I got him to break up with his model and start dating me, I completely lost interest. Classy right?

Anyway, Mr. President has a place in Atlanta (where we met) and a place here in NYC. He splits time between both cities for work. So Mr. President calls and asks if I want to grab a drink Friday night. So, I think we are friends, and since I am new to the city, and I don't have a zillion friends yet, I need all of the friends I can get. So, as tired as I am, I rally, shower, and get ready to meet him. We go to a bar around the corner from my apartment called Posh. The clientle was pretty unfortunate looking, however, the music was great. Now, Mr. President is extremely touchy-feely, which is totally opposite of my style. To say I am the antithesis of feelings and emotions is an understatement. So, Mr. President is all over me and kissing my cheek and I tell him to get off of me and to stop touching me. Of course, this offends him as he is European and extremely affectionate. We get into a little fight and I really just want to go home and get in bed. This is when it gets awkward. Mr. President cannot handle his alcohol like I can, and after a couple of martinis, he is kind of drunk. He proceeds to tell me that he is in LOVE with me. And that I broke his heart. So, what do I do? Oh, I laugh in his face. What kind of jerk laughs in someones face when they tell you that they are in love with you? Oh yea, me. Awesome.

Well, after a couple more minutes of awkward silence, we decide to call it a night. He is kind of drunk so I put Mr. President into a cab and send him on his way. I walk home feeling bad because apparently I broke this jokers heart. The odd thing is, he texted me Saturday morning apparently not remembering much from the night before. So, we are back to normal I guess. We shall see what comes of Mr. President ...

You Know What Really Grinds My Gears?

So, you know what really grinds my gears? Gay men thinking the are Beyonce. So, I love the song Single Ladies. I mean, it is fantastic. A great beat, fun lyrics, a hot pop star - what is there not to love? However, I have noticed, every time I am at a gay bar and they play this song, no less than 3 queens think that they are Beyonce and act completely crazy trying desperately to out gay one another while performing the choreography from her video. It is really awkward to watch grown men dance to this song. Trust me, you don't even want to see this.

Out on a Thursday Night ...

So, Thursday night ended up being one of those nights that made me feel totally New York. I got a text from my first boyfriend Steve's friend Adam letting me know that he was going to crash a birthday party at this place called Elmo. I thought it was a bar. So, I jump into a cab and meet him at Elmo and it turns out to be a restaurant. I really hate going into places alone, because I walk in all awkwardly and shy, and normally look completely out of place. Maybe it is New York, maybe it is because I am getting old, I dunno, but I walked in with such confidence you would have had no idea that I was crashing a private party. I walked down the stairs into this private room that was a private party pretending like I belonged there. I did it just fine. Score. The party was full of ridiculously hot men. Which is a total score. Oh, awkward, all of a sudden I revert back to being shy and not confident. Oh well. I meet up with my friend Adam and he introduces me to a bunch of his friends. I meet a guy named Jeremy who is working currently with Showtime to create a show that is a mix between Sex and the City and Queer As Folk. I ask if any of this gay characters like sports, and he informs me no. This really grinds my gears. Why are there no gay characters on TV that like sports? I mention this to the guy, Jeremy, and he thinks he might add that to his show! I told him the character has to be named Craig and he has to like U of Georgia sports. Woot!

Adam, a couple of his friends, and I move on to another bar called Aspen. We get to the bar and there is a guest list. My friend Adam and his friends are on the list, and I am like, what the hell? Why are we going to a bar where I am not on the guest list. So I look at the woman and I am like, "uhh, I am not on the list. So yea, can I come in anyway?" Now, standing with her is a boy. I look at him and, if you read my post from a few days ago, he is the hipster from the 1 train that I was flirting with! He tells his friend she should let me in and so she does. Score! Apparently fliring on the Subway, while it makes me look like a desperate gay, works for something. While we are in Aspen, Adam gets a text from Jeremy asking for my number. Adam gives it to me and Jeremy texts me and we are going to go to dinner sometime soon. I am hoping that I eventually can slip in the fact that I acted in many musicals and plays, and I should be a character on his new Showtime show. Time will tell ...

Anyway, I hit up 3 more bars and ended up going to bed at 230 am. This truly is the city that never sleeps ...

What is that on your face?

So, New York is colder than Atlanta. Go figure. And it is pretty windy. The wind kind of swirls through the tall buildings and sucker punches you right in the face. Well, it probably would've been a good idea to move to the city armed with some chapstick. Or, maybe when I first noticed that my lips were chapped, I should've invested in some chapstick. Or maybe, when my lips were fully chapped, I shouldn't have decided it would be a good idea to kind of gnaw at the skin and rip it off. Because guess what? That doesn't help. And then your lip bleeds. And it turns out, in order to heal itself, it kind of has to scab over. And you know what else? That looks like herpes. I guess I won't be getting any action this weekend. BLAST!

Random Things You See in NYC

So, while I was in bed sick this weekend, I received a text message from my friend Sue who told me that she was walking on the Upper East Side, and to her amazement, she stumbled upon a Mariachi Band playing at the entrance to an apartment building. I mean, there is some random crap that happens in Atlanta - believe me - there are some crazies up in that city - but I found it super amusing that a Mariachi Band was playing at the entrance to an apartment complex. The only logical explanation I could think of was that they were having a Quinceanera for their 15 year old and that was the band that welcomed party guests? Anyway, here are a few other funny things that I have encountered, or my friends have told me about, since I have been to NYC:

1. My cashier at Rite Aid was named Darn. I mean, Darn? Really? Was she supposed to be a boy, and then when the doctor yanked her out he was like, oh, its a girl, and her father was like "DARN!" and it stuck?
2. A drunk girl writhing around on 7th Avenue because she is so drunk she cannot get up (and my friend Lisa takes a picture and keeps walking).
3. A transvestite midget on the Subway

Good times.

More Tales from the Subway ... And Beyond

So, after sleeping all afternoon from my exhausting run, I woke up and tried to rally from feeling sick for the past couple of days. After staying in my first Friday night in NYC, there was no way I was not going out on Saturday. My friend Chip told me that he was going to go to a bar in Chelsea called XES. Very exciting! A chance to take a new Subway Line - the 1 train. Well, I thought I knew where the entrance to the 1 train was near my apartment, but I must've passed it or what not, because I somehow ended up walking down Broadway headed towards Times Square. I thought to myself, the train runs almost due South, so I should be able to just walk a few blocks and find the next entrance, right? Well, while my incredible navigation skills were correct, I did not anticipate the mass of people to be so overwhelming at 11pm on a Saturday Night in Times Square. Why aren't you people either sleeping, or in a bar? Stop standing on the road looking up taking pictures. I have lived here a week, and I am already sick of tourists. While I desperately want to crane my head up to look at every blinking light and neon sign, I find it much more hip and cool to look annoyed while pushing my way through tourists. So, after it taking me 15 minutes to walk approximately 7 blocks, I find the 1 train. I find the 1 that is going downtown and go to that platform and wait. I look over, and see a guy that is super cute. Definitely a hipster with the skinny jean, cool jacket, and iPod in. Quite a different look from the Brooks Brothers shirt and puffy vest that I have rockin'.

So, we are definitely staring at each other and making eyes. And luckily, it is late at night, so there are no fat commuters to get in my way. The train pulls up and we both board the same car but sit pretty far away. These 2 young queens with multi colored hair get on and start bitching about something insignificant, but it is enough to entertain me while I am on the train. And since my crush is far away, it is fine. My stop comes and I get out, and so does my boy toy. I pretend not to notice and walk to the street and head to the bar losing my subway boyfriend for the second time in 1 week. Tragic. I meet Chip at the bar and it's not bad. Not the best bar ever, but not bad at all. About 30 minutes later, I am ordering a drink, and there is a tap on my shoulder. It is subway boyfriend! He asks if I was on the 1 train just now, and I confirmed that I was. I am randomly not acting super awkward, which is clearly a change for me, so I already congratulating myself in my head, when I find out his name is Anthony and lives in Queens. Well, that kind of killed my buzz, because my dream is to date someone rich with an awesome Manhattan apartment. But, making out wasn't out of the question. I mean, I did have my own place in the city. However, our romance came to a screeching halt when I found out he was there to meet up with Chips friend, and they started making out at the bar. But hey, I am one step closer to nabbing my first subway fling, so I considered the night a success.

Still not feeling well, I headed home in a cab around 12:45. I still felt better about myself because I had gone out on a weekend night in NYC. Not the ideal end result, as it did not include me playing tonsil hockey with anyone, but I am still confident my first NYC makeout is just around the corner. Stay tuned ...

Running in Central Park

So, after feeling completely sick all of Friday, and going to bed on Friday night at 11pm (How cool am I my first Friday in NYC!), I woke up Saturday morning at 11:30 am. Yes, 11.5 hours of sleep. I'm awesome. After feeling like crap still, I decided it was best to take a nap from 12:30 - 3. I woke up feeling a tad better, and since I had spent my entire weekend thus far either on the couch, or in bed, I decided it might do me some good to go for a run in Central Park. Central Park is only 8 short blocks away from me, so I decided to walk to the park and go for a run. So, for those of you who don't know this, I HATE running. If I can paint a picture for you, I pretty much feel like Phoebe from friends when she runs. All awkward and gangly. If you have seen the episode, you know what I mean. If not, here is a clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_0Ta_DIWuU It is pretty tragic. And usually after my "run", I feel so tired, but accomplished, only then I look up online how far I have run and it comes to approximately 1 mile. And it took me 20 minutes.

Anyway, on this particular afternoon after sleeping for what seemed like days, I put on some running shorts that show off my incredibly cute legs. I throw on a fleece, my Masters hat, and my new balances, suit up with my super cute green iPod shuffle that I purposely bought to learn how to run, and leave my corporate apartment. It is in the mid 40s, so I am not cold at all as I am walking to the park. As I near Columbus Circle, I am waiting to cross the street when a very attractive person starts to talk to me. I am a tad taken aback, so I take off my ear phones to this very attractive person asking me if I ran outside in shorts, because I must be freezing. "Oh yea, I run outside all the time in the cold" lying through my teeth as I have probably run 3 times all winter. Again, let me stress, "run", as I basically run 100 yards and dry heave while walking the next 100 yards. It's pretty. "I'm actually training for a half marathon in Seattle in June". WTF? I mean, I was supposed to do that but have since given that dream away for better things like, sleep and alcohol. We banter about how much I love running for the next block or so, and then I have to leave this attractive person to start my run in the park. Too bad it was a girl. Why do no hot boys hit on me in my sexy work out shorts? Blast!

Regardless, I felt pretty awesome running through Central Park on a gorgeous winter day. I made it around this one portion of the park and then back down Broadway towards my corporate apartment. And while I did stop to walk a few times, I checked my mileage when I got home, and guess what? I ran 1.5 miles. Hey, that beats my 1 mile average. Things are looking up in NYC, even if when I returned to my apartment I promptly laid down for a 3 hour nap.

Tales of the Subway ...

So, I have finally gotten the hang of riding the Subway. Well, I take that back. I figured out how to take the R train. And let me tell you - everyone takes public transportation here, so there are all sorts of interesting characters that ride that mug. Take Wednesday morning. I got on the R train and got a seat which is a huge score because that way I can pretend I am still sleeping on the way to work. And this morning was especially glorious. A super hot guy (no wedding ring on - important to check because then I know I have a slight chance) got on the train at the same time as me. And he sat across from me and I was totally hitting on him and I felt like he was smiling-ish back at me. Score! So, the train is pretty crowded but not overly crowded where you have to be all up on somebody's piece, right? Well, this uber fat man gets on the Subway, and literally stands right in front of where I am sitting on the train, and his stomach is so big it is basically hitting my nose. I am like, umm, excuse me, can you please move your pregnant stomach out of my face. I kind of like space. However, being the super awkward person that I am, I just let his stomach bitch slap me all the way to work ... ahh, these are days when I miss my Jeep. Anyway, fattie mcfatterson finally exited and my subway boyfriend was still there. But my stop was next. I smiled at him and got off - got off at my subway stop - not the way I wanted to get off ideally.

Thursday night was interesting. I decided to meet a friend after work for a drink at the Herald Square Subway stop. I got off my train only to be in mass panic. I had never been to a train station where people transferred lines. There were multiple levels and people running amok - and everynoe knew where they were going. It took me 5 minutes to figure out how to get out of the train station. That was fun - especially when I reached street level and remembered it was approximately 10 degrees with a wind chill of 0. At least today it wasn't snowing. But when I got to the bar, it was $20 all you could drink liquor. That made me happy - and also, it was a lot less cold out when I left that bar. I wonder why.

So, this morning, I get to the Subway and the N train came instead of the R. I was told that they run on the same line so I could probably take either. While this is true, the N train does not stop at my stop. So I had to get off at the stop before mine and walk 6 blocks in the freezing cold to my office. Lesson learned. Stick to the train I know.

Anyway, all is well here ...

First Day in the Big City

So, I arrived in NYC with little problem. My flight was early (random!) and I had my entire row to myself. I got to my corporate apartment which is ridiculously nice and bigger than some of my friends apartments back in Atlanta. I am on the 14th floor, but I really don't have much of a view. I look directly at another high rise. But it's all good. I live a couple of blocks from Times Square which is fun and exciting but I see how that could get really old after a while with all of the tourists, etc. But, I am pretty much feeling like a tourist so far, so I can relate. I unpacked everything and got settled and then went to meet my friend Lauren to eat dinner and watch the Super Bowl.

This morning I got up for work and was too stressed out to take the Subway because I really didn't know how to do it and I had never taken it before, so I took a taxi to work. After a long long day at the office, I finally left at 7pm to take my first Subway ride ever. Chip, my friend from Atlanta who lives here now, was nice enough to meet me at my stop and help me buy my card and get on the train. HA! Yes, I needed help riding the subway. A lot easier than I thought - duh.

After Chip and I decided to get sushi, and I worried and was sad about missing Gossip Girl, Chip had the best quote for me - "Craig, you don't have to watch Gossip Girl, you can LIVE Gossip Girl". Well played sir, well played ...

Anyway, that is all. I will update when I have some kind of antic ... This was boring ... My bad ...