you're never gonna leave and i'm never gonna leave, but you're never going to love me like i need

By the end of 2005 I had been sleeping with my coworker, J., for almost a year. For maybe about 2 months of that year we were what could have been possibly in some circles considered almost a legitimate relationship. But otherwise it was basically par for the course for Caitlinships and since like October of that year he had been in love with another girl we worked with who he was also sleeping with.

And you might be like, wow, was this like Brad Pitt over here? Quite the opposite, friend. If I had to compare J. to a well-known figure I would say Phillip Seymour Hoffman plus about 50 lbs. My sister suggested Tweedle Dee. There are many mysteries in the universe. One of the most significant is how this kid always got these really cute girls despite having few redeeming qualities. Anyway, all this set-up to discuss what happened the day after Christmas in 2005.

Around 2 am I start getting calls and texts from J. He was always a really big drunk dialer (oh I should mention he was pretty much an alcoholic). He was at the coast with his parents for Christmas. But because they didn't have enough room in their condo they had put him up in a hotel and he suggested I come out and stay with him at this hotel. "C'mon Caitlin. It's great. We could start a really nice life together here." I am not kidding you, that's what he said. And I fucking fell for it. So at 4 am I pack up an overnight back and head out to the coast, still wearing my pajamas. Incidientally I just realized I am wearing those same pj's right now. Think about it.
It was a 2 hour drive to his hotel and around 5 am I got pulled over for speeding. When the cop asked me why I was speeding I said, "Listen. It's the day after Christmas. It's 5 am. I am driving in the middle of the night to see a boy. I am wearing my pajamas and it's stupid." He let me go because he said my "honesty was refreshing." I showed up to J.'s hotel at 6 am and he was smashed, of course. At arounded 10 am we headed over to his parents' condo.

When his parents asked how, exactly, a friend of his from town was at the coast he told them that he had gotten drunk and texted everyone he knew asking them to come out, and that I was the only one who responded.

I am going to let that sink in for a minute.

I should have at that time gotten up and said it was now time for me to go back home. But I didn't. I stayed the weekend with him at the hotel. I even called in sick because I was supposed to be back to work after the holiday. And we didn't do shit. We laid around in bed and watched Dog the Bounty Hunter. We went to the aquarium and had nothing to say to each other. I dropped a bunch of change and he stood there while I picked it up. But the whole time I was fighting so hard for us to have this life together he had promised. After all, I was the one who cared enough to respond...not the one pathetic enough and eventually he would realize that. Right? Right?!?! No. Of course not. Every once in a while I do something sad enough that I have an out-of-body experience when I can actually see myself how I would look to an outsider. The last afternoon, sitting on his parents' couch while I tried to flirt with him and he ignored me to watch My Super Sweet 16 I had that out-of-body experience. "I'm going to go," I said. He didn't say anything. I cried the whole way home.

We continued to get drunk and have sex for a couple months after that. See: My issues with self-respect.

But I am working on it, so last night when I got a text in the middle of the night from this guy, apparently not satisfied about his starring role in ball less breakups, asking why he'd never been in a dating disaster post and then suggesting that perhaps I would like to come over, I declined. I think we all know that not a lot has changed about my dating patterns in the last 4 years, but I don't respond anymore to booty calls from people who don't care about me.

There you go, mister.

I got Brooklyn blowing up

So my friend Ed does a show every Monday night in the back room at Union Pool in Williamsburg. After an evening of many drinks he invited me to share the stage with his band for a short stand-up bit. Since I was like 20 people have often told me I should do stand up...so if this goes well I may try an open mic night somewhere.
Anyway. Monday. March 30th. Union Pool. Sometime between 8 and 9...Ed says we should "feel out the crowd" to determine when the best time for me to go on is.

Update: My mom says I used to talk about doing standup when I was little, which I don't remember. I also wrote in an "about me" book in 3rd grade that I wanted to write about myself and my life when I grew up. It's nice to stick to one's goals.

Notice to Chivalrous Men

OK, you're not being helpful when you hold a door open for me like this:
Notice how this man is essentially blocking the entire entrance to the doorway? Not useful. Now, if you had let the door slam in my face what I can easily go ahead and do is just open it back up. When you are standing there with your body blocking 3/4 of the doorway I cannot just push you to the side. You force an awkward situation where I have to take the door from you or squeeze past you and it's dumb.
If I am going the opposite way from you in a doorway and you really feel compelled to hold the goddamn door open, the best thing you can do is completely exit out of the door, stand parallel to the door to hold it open from the end rather than the doorjamb side, thus allowing me easy access through the door passageway. As exhibited below. Also, please remove your hat in the presence of a lady. Thx.

Words I would like to be retired

Snark/Snarky
Hipster (esp. hipster as used derogatorily because it is infinitely more annoying than actual hipsters)
Recessionista
Really anything "ista"
Really anything coupled with recession, i.e. recession diet, recession chic
Huzzah -- this isn't one you hear all that often, but it makes me feel really awkward when people say it.
aks instead of ask (apparently Chaucer used this?)
Baby Bump -- I can never emphasize enough how much I dislike this phrase
Any celeb combo name
Any perversion of the word texting, i.e sexting, textual harrassment, etc.
Guesstimate - it's estimate, yo.
Expresso -- it's espresso, yo.
Schadenfreude -- love the concept, tired of the word
Tweet - as referring to posts to Twitter. I know this is, like, the actual word for it. I think it is dumb.

That's all I can think of for now.

the sun is out, the sky is blue, and all i do is dream of you

Well, spring has sprung here in Brooklyn. Or, at least is in the process of springing. I just got back from a bike ride in prospect park, which is one of my very favorite things to do when it is nice. This bike ride was practice for my little duathlon, because it's gonna be in the park. The duathlon is on the 5th, and let me tell you that is just sneaking right up on me. And my bike ride made me nervous because I am going to have to ride about twice as far as I did today AFTER running two miles and THEN running another two miles. But I have registered myself, so if I don't do it I will have wasted $60. My friends have said they want to come support me. I'm not sure I can talk them out of it but I am worried I won't finish or something and I'll have all these people supporting me when I just want to curl up and cry. On the other hand, it would be kind of sad when I finish to just be like...welp...guess I'll...uh...go home...take a shower or something...maybe get a snack...ok... Anyway that's the duathlon update. My sports injury is doing better. My progress is slow but steady. Can't ask for more I suppose.

I have had a little bit of blogger's block...a dating hiatus will do that to a girl. I suppose I could pull some old ones out of the hat, but meh. I actually just today remembered a dating disaster I had totally forgotten about, but I am not sure if the person reads my blog so you will just never know. Sowwy.

a girl's best friend is in the service industry

For a brief, tragic period my Junior year of college my best friend was Fran the housekeeper. She was probably the only person I talked to every day. She was even going to knit me an afghan until she got fired. Which was too bad because I had already picked out the colors.

I think my current best friend may be Hassan the security guard/doorman at my work. Hassan worries when he doesn't see me. He cares about my personal life. He advised me how much to tip the guys that delivered my couch. He even wanted me to move into his building and was trying to sell me on an open studio. He told another coworker that the studio apartments in his building are really shitty. But apparently they would be great for me. His new compliment is, "You don't look tired." Hassan really knows how to make a girl blush.
A couple weeks ago, Hassan casually asked me if I eat meat. I answered that I do. And that was a mistake. Because now Hassan is threatening to cook me some lamb. And here's the thing, I don't want to eat a lamb. It makes me sad. Also, I am not a huge fan of middle eastern food. I am terrified of the day when Hassan brings me in my lamb lunch and I have to choke down this saffron dusted baby animal. "Lamb with rice!" Hassan says. "It's Halal!" Oh, well if it's Halal then pleeease bring me a big ol' slice of young animal.

I can only hope, that like my much longed-for afghan, this threat of lamb never comes to fruition. I don't want Hassan to have to get fired though....who else would tell me every day that I look good?? Or, you know...at least not like I got run over by a Mac truck.

UPDATE: When I was leaving work the day I wrote this blog, Hassan asked me if I want to go to Yemen with him next year. I would rather eat baby animals every day than go to Yemen. I am now working on setting boundaries with him.

I used to be Team Jack...

But now I'm totes Team Sawyer.



They ain't my people, hoss.


Also, this is my 100th post on blogger.

Dating Disaster #7: Some have travelled far and wide, some have given up and died, for the love of a sweet lovin' man

Ok, so several years ago I was doing a lot of craigslist dating and one dude who had written me never sent me his picture, which I figured was fine. I sat outside of a bar looking expectantly at every guy who came up, until my date finally rolled up. Yes, rolled up. On roller skates. Not even roller blades. And he had this scraggly beard (which he nervously picked hair out of for the entire date) and was obviously someone I would not have dated had I seen his picture ahead of time.
When he rolled up and looked at me he said, "You look disappointed."
He was correct.
But this post isn't about this date. This post is about the date that I just got home from. This was an okcupid date, so this guy had seen my picture....but, when he walked up his face looked like I imagine mine must have when I first saw roller skate guy. I feel like there was a moment when he was a) hoping that he had walked into the wrong bar or b) hoped that I hadn't recognized him and he could turn around.
So this dude is 35, which is older than guys I tend to date. Example: He talked about having been to Eugene for a Grateful Dead show...now, he didn't say when that was, but Jerry Garcia died when I was 12...sooo... And in general he is just in a different place in his life than me.
And maybe he realized that right away, maybe it was just a feeling he had. But he ordered sake, which is baaasically the smallest drink you can get at a bar aside from a shot, and he did not nurse that motherfucker.
After about a half hour he said, "So, um, this is kind of like a school night for me...so I had better get going."
Yeah, buddy, better make sure you get home at 9 o clock. Asshole.
Shortest date ever.
I at least stuck around for two drinks with roller skate guy.
So I don't know what happened, maybe he realized we were at different places...maybe I look grossly disfigured compared to my picture. I have no idea.
What I do know is that I can't do this anymore.
Taking a break from dating, indefinitely.