Category Archives: life in nyc

things i will never understand

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Men.

That’s about it.

Oh, and terrorism. But this post is not about 9/11. (That post will be coming shortly–I live in New York, and it’s the 10th anniversary, so of course I’ll be posting about it. It may be tomorrow though–I’ll pre-date it so it shows for today–because I’m still kind of processing all the emotions I’ve felt today. And it also happens to be my sister’s birthday, so I need to call her which will likely take up a good chunk of my evening. Kind of a crappy day for a birthday, right?)

Back to men. Maybe some male out there reading this can help me understand. Although it’s doubtful. Many have tried. I think I must just have some sort of mental block.

That said, I can’t say that I was completely surprised that what I’m about to tell you happened. I’ve seen it happen in my friends’ lives often enough. But this particular situation was so weird, I just didn’t expect it.

I’m not sure if I told the blogosphere about this (so if I did, please forgive the repetition–I don’t think I did).

Last July or August (I can’t remember which and I don’t have a record of it because I typically purge emails/text messages/etc post-dating someone), I met a boy through Match.com. He was really fun and very smart (getting his PhD in applied mathematics) and interesting, about 6’1″ and pretty dang attractive. We met for the first time at this delicious Tibetan restaurant in Murray Hill and hit it off and continued to see each other for quite some time.

He was my first New York kiss. And it was a perfect first New York kiss. And the best first kiss I’ve had since moving here. We were walking along the Hudson on a lovely summer evening after having dinner at Pier I. We stopped and sat on one of the benches overlooking the river and the lights of New Jersey. And we talked for a while. And then he kissed me. And it was perfect.

Fast forward about three months (I am not that girl who remembers milestones, in case it wasn’t obvious) and we’re at lunch. He taught at a college not far from my office in TriBeCa…which meant I got to see him frequently during the week. We’d been dating for a while (as mentioned) and he decided we needed to have a sort of DTR.

Let me pause at this moment to explain how it is that I manage to often end up dating guys who want to have a DTR–because it does often happen. And it’s not necessarily that I choose to date weird, insecure guys. It’s that I often date non-Mormon guys (because, for whatever reason, they are the guys who want to date me–if I could just find a nice Mormon guy who wanted to date me…). And because they are not Mormon, it is really hard for me to actually imagine a future with them. (I really do want to marry a Mormon guy.) So, because I can’t imagine a future…I am somewhat aloof. I mean, I have fun and enjoy their company and like them (I’m not using them or anything), I just don’t see it going anywhere. You know the old adage, “He who cares less has the power.” Well, in my case it’s a she and it’s me and so I am the one with all the confidence and security of not being too “into it”…which leads to men who want answers. At least, that’s my take on it.

And back to the story. So, he begins this pseudo-DTR. I say “pseudo” because it wasn’t very direct. Or maybe it was and I’m just clueless (entirely possible…I got hit on last week at Whole Foods and didn’t ever realize what had happened until the next day, when I told someone about it and she kindly informed me that the guy was hitting on me and I, without realizing it, had totally shot him down). Anyway, he asked me how I was feeling about things (aka “us”), if I could see dating him exclusively in the near future, etc. My response was basically that I thought when we were both at a point that we felt like we wanted to be exclusive, it would just happen.

Is it so wrong to think that a relationship can happen without defining it? And he didn’t force me to decide on anything or actually specifically ask me if I wanted to date him exclusively, so…I didn’t offer to do so. Maybe I should have, but I think you all know me well enough to know that passive (or passive aggressive) behavior is not likely to illicit an active response from me.

All in all, the conversation was fine. And then we changed subjects. NBD. We made tentative plans to do something a couple (few?) days later. During the next couple of days, we exchanged a few texts. I tried to solidify plans (I like times for planning purposes). And then…

Radio silence.

I never heard from him again. The end.

Or so I thought.

And then yesterday, while I was lying on the beach, enjoying my oh-so-fabulous life (I really am enjoying it these days), he emailed me. At first I thought maybe he didn’t know who he was emailing (I used an alias email address for online dating, so it doesn’t have my name in it), but then I realized he had replied to one of our old email chains when he emailed me, so he knew it was me.

And do you want to know what it said? Of course you do. Prepare to be totally dumbfounded (or maybe not):

hey,
how are you? what have you been up to?


And that was it. Are you kidding me? A year later and that’s what the PhD emails me? If I were a different person, I might thing he just wanted to get a piece…but I am me, and I know he knows that getting a piece is not going to happen, so it can’t be that. If it was that, I’d get it. I wouldn’t like it, but I’d get it.

Here’s the thing. I really do like this guy and I wasn’t heartbroken when he fell off the face of the earth, just confused. Was it totally rude and selfish? Well, yes but, just the same, I don’t hate him. And he was lots of fun and very interesting. And of course, I would love some sort of explanation. So I emailed him back (about four hours ago):

Wow. I was definitely not expecting to hear from you. I thought you must have died or something. 😉 …


I answered his questions about how I was doing and what I’d been up to and then asked how he was. And I received a response about 10 minutes later:

I’m still around, just chilling. let’s get together for dinner this week.


So, because I don’t think a boy taking me to dinner breaks my resolution, I am sure I will take him up on this. Oh, and because I really want some sort of explanation (and I’m sure you do, as well, right? The things I do for my readers… 🙂 ). And he will be buying me dinner. I mean, that’s only fair, right? I think I’m being pretty gracious about the whole thing.

Maybe, once I get some sort of answer, I’ll understand men a little better, but I doubt it. At least I’ll get a free meal out of it, and that’s always nice.

the bicycle

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One of the other things I did on Monday, besides laundry, was go on a 14 mile bike ride. My intention was just to ride up to the GWB, but then I got there and thought, “Why not make it around the entire north side of the island…so I just kept going. One of my favorite things about living in New York is the bridges, so I love that my bike lets me get so close to them (or at least this one) so quickly.

Ignore the fact that the Hudson is completely brown (apparently hurricanes can do that to rivers), but don’t miss the American flag hanging on the far side. With the 10th anniversary of 9/11 coming up on Sunday, it just made my heart smile to see our lovely flag hanging there.

Isn’t she lovely?

After I took these two pictures, I just kept riding…and riding…and it was lovely. So, in case you were wondering if I’m using my bike that required a big financial decision, the answer is yes. Totally worth it.

adventures in laundry

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So, with this whole “let’s try and be more responsible with my money” thing, I decided to make another change. Since I moved to New York, I have not done my laundry (in the city) a single time. I mean, laundry has been done, but I’ve been taking it to the nice people right next door for wash and fold. Meaning they do it, not me. It’s not the most expensive thing in the world and I had told myself that, with as much as I make hourly, spending my time sitting in a laundromat was not cost effective. (I like to trick my brain into thinking that my justifications are very sound and logical, but the truth is, the time I would be doing laundry is not time I’m “missing” work…so my logic is crap.)

Which brings us to today and me sitting in a laundromat for a little under two hours doing my laundry. And all it took was one time for me to realize that I should really be doing my own laundry. First of all, it’s about half the cost of sending it out. Second of all, I can hang dry what needs to hang dry without paying an extra $2 per article (which, just so you know, I didn’t do…I would just wait to wash those things until I was in Utah or Arizona or Indiana…). Third, it’s some quality reading time. Fourth, my laundry smells good as opposed to smelling like the industrial laundry chemicals it is washed in I send it out. Fifth, I met some really nice people. And finally, because I was at the laundromat and there are places to conveniently fold my laundry, I actually folded it while I was there, so all I had to do was put it away when I got home.

One of my concerns was how crowded it would be and how long I’d have to wait for a machine, but apparently, my new workout regime is paying off in more ways than one since my new bedtime is usually before 10pm and I’m lucky if I can sleep past 7am, so no crowds. And my nice, new laundromat friend informed me that if I’m there early on Saturday, there’s never a wait. So, looks like that will be part of my new routine. And not only am I saving money by doing it myself, I think I’ll also be saving money by not having to replace certain things quite as often as I would given the wear and tear of industrial cleaning.

Look at me making fiscally responsible choices. And it only took me thirty some years to get here.

a resolution

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If you follow me on Twitter, you may know that I have been a little obsessed with food trucks lately…because they are amazing! Just around the corner from my new office is a food truck lot and every day there are three different trucks, usually two food and one treat. And I have been taking full advantage of the trucks. Just one more reason to love living in a big city. Here’s a little look at the delicious treats:

Kimchi Taco
VanLeeuwen
Desi
Je and Jo

Rickshaw

And then, the other day, I realized that I was eating out breakfast (okay, it doesn’t really count because I just buy a banana from the fruit guy by my building for $0.25, but I’m still eating out), lunch, and dinner. Almost every day. Almost every meal. Not only is this not the best idea for my waistline…it’s also not the best idea for my bank account. I have a weekly budget and I was blowing it. Every. Week. And then this whole hurricane thing happened and I thought about food storage, and how I need to keep on top of it and rotating through the food…which would require me eating that food.

So, an idea was born and a resolution was made. For the month of September (well, really from yesterday until I fly to Utah the first week of October) I am not going to eat out. At all. (Although the fruit in the morning after my run I’m not counting because it’s as cheap as the grocery store.)

I went grocery shopping Monday night, and even with shopping at Whole Foods and purchasing organic whenever possible…I was well under my weekly budget. I know I’m only on day two, but already I feel better and I’m less stressed about money. It might put a little bit of a wrench in my social life this month, but it also means I’ll be a little more creative when it comes to time with friends.

I realize that this would not be a big deal for some of you…but until you’ve lived in New York as a singleton, I don’t know that you can understand just how dependent you can become on restaurants for your survival (okay…maybe that’s a little dramatic, but you get it is kind of dramatic). So, don’t judge me or think that this will be easy. Just wish me luck. It’s going to be…interesting. And at the end of the month, maybe I’ll have a new plan. One that’s a little less extreme, but that helps me stay on track, both physically and financially. Maybe?

Oh, and I’ve also cut out Diet Coke. Now do you feel concerned for my survival?

endorphins

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A couple of weeks ago, Jenna (you should visit her blog…she’s hilarious) and I started running together in the mornings. What this means is that I am up every morning at 5:15 so I can get out the door and meet Jenna for our morning run. And by “run” I mean I run the 1.5 miles to meet her…then we walk and talk (sometimes we jog) for about 30 minutes, and then I run home. 

Initially, the getting up in the morning thing was a little rough. And Jenna, bless her heart, does not have to get up nearly as early as I have to, and yet she does. But now, it’s like my morning coffee (or Diet Coke, in my case). It wakes me up. It starts my day off exactly as a day should start…with a body pumped full of endorphins. And I get to work out all of my little issues (anxiety, stress, whatever the issue of the day might be) before I do anything else.
Jenna’s in Utah this week. I’m super sad. But I’m determined to continue the exercising, because not only has it benefited me in all the ways I’ve listed, I have found that my weird mood swings have stabilized quite a bit. And I have fallen in love with exercise again. I mean, in LOVE. And it has become my go to medicine. 
Case in point. Yesterday, I got back from a lovely trip to Rhode Island (same as last year with some new and different people, oh and a hurricane) and I was seriously depressed for a multiplicity of reasons. Like, lying on my bed, crying into my pillow depressed. Let’s be honest, I was pretty tired, too. Anyway, I was going to just lie there crying, but then I had this lovely vision of a bike ride and off I went. And two loops around Central Park later, I was fine. 
Now, I just need to not forget this. Somehow, when life gets busy and stressful and I need exercise the most, it’s the first thing to go. I’m hoping between Jenna and playing on two soccer teams this fall that this will not happen. The question is, will she still be willing to meet me at the butt crack of dawn when the world is freezing and covered in snow/ice. (I’m thinking probably not, since she basically told me as much, but a girl can dream, right…?)