Vacation

Going to South America for a week... Hopefully I'll come back with some steamy Latin sex story!

You Win!

Okay, yes, you're all right, it's British Scientist. Here's what he said:

"Your new website looks great-congrats on the part!"

Interesting timing, don't you think? Though I'm not exactly itching to get involved with him, so he can pull the disappearing act on me a third time... Maybe this is the perfect case of "let's just be friends"?

Guessing Game

Okay, folks, time for a guessing game....

Guess which former flame just text messaged me? Long-time readers who followed me from the prior anono-blog will have an advantage.

Winner gets the contents of the message...okay, well, you'll all get that.

Extended Absense...

Sorry folks, I escaped upstate this past week, took some time off to breathe, and get away from everything, and not focus on the IBF thing, which was good. And there was no internet access to be found, so I got to hang out in the woods, read a lot, and relax. Just what I needed. A break from IMs and shitty ex-boyfriends.

Though it seems I may have a possibility on the horizon. In the last two weeks, I've run into my College Crush twice!! I had a crush on him all through school, which culminated in us making out on a friend's roof about six months after we graduated. The perfect ending. I haven't seen him at all since, but I ran into him the weekend IBF and I broke up, and then, at a baseball game I went to with my dad. Huh? Yep, we were both buying baseball caps. Coincidence? Or Soulmate? You decide.

;)

Independence Day

My first 4th of July in 10 years without a boyfriend.

What? Yeah, you read that right. My last single 4th was in high school. Sure, there’ve been 3 different July 4th boyfriends since, but when I started to think back to the last 4th of July I spent alone, to reassure myself, I realized that as an adult, well, I never had. As a result I’ve been conditioned to expect the 4th to be a ‘romantic’ holiday, one spent snuggling in my sweetie’s arms as we gaze at the night sky together, just like the candid pic here, taken a few 4ths ago. My favorite photograph ever.

So spending yesterday alone seemed a frightening prospect. Though initially (read: when coupled) I was upset that I’d have a show on the 4th, it turned out to be my saving grace. My theatre company had a pre-show BBQ at the theatre, and we had an awesome crowd for the show (I’m sure the fact that I was a little tipsy—for the first time on stage ever—made me enjoy the show just that much more). Afterwards, I decided to leave on my full showgirl makeup (it took 90 minutes to apply, I might as well enjoy it), fake eyelashes and all. And boy, did the boys come out to flirt.

I’ve never quite understood that attraction. Here I am, wearing more makeup than seems humanly possible, somewhere on the spectrum between porn star and drag queen, and I get noticeably more attention. I don’t know, I think I’d prefer a guy who prefers something a little more natural looking. But hey, I need the ego boost right now.

The whole company ended up trekking to the Founding Member’s Brooklyn rooftop (longtime readers, remember him?). And what a view. We had a straight shot of the midtown set of fireworks, with the Empire State and Chrysler Building directly behind, serving as a backdrop. Beautiful. Though my instincts screamed “snuggle,” there was no one to snuggle with, so I drank champagne with company members and enjoyed the view.

Tried to flirt a bit with the Founding Member after the fireworks, but kept getting intercepted by a new acquaintance who was quite obviously flirting with me. Not exactly my type, but he was super cute, if a bit short, and a budding director with some amazing credits for someone his age. Flattering at the very least.

As all of us Manhattanites trekked back to the city together, I looked around. Surrounded by new friends, happy to take care of me, listen, and offer support, I smiled. Though it certainly was a new experience of independence, I felt anything but alone.

Sags like a heavy load.

I was repulsive in middle school.

Okay, maybe not repulsive, but it seemed that way. My blonde hair, D-cup breasts, and nearly 6' tall height, standards of beauty throughout the western world, made me freakish in my over 2/3rds Asian middle school.

The cystic acne didn't help either.

My crushes went unrequited. No one liked me. No one asked me a) to the dances or b) to dance at the dances. Well, I did get asked to one dance. By the short, fat kid, with acne worse then my own.

So I made a deal with the devil. I told myself that being a famous movie star would be worth all this. That never finding love, or true love, would be okay, if only I could achieve my dreams.

Then college. Two plastic surgeries on my skin to remove the acne scars. All of a sudden, the freakishly large breasts, the height, the hair, became attractive. Guys were interested. I made a lot of bad decisions, but learned a lot, too. I certainly had no trouble getting dates.

Dated the wrong guys. Dated the almost right, but not quite guys. Dated the right, but not right for me guys. And yet, never the right guy. The one that would make all the effort worthwhile. Forgot the deal I made. Thought I could find true love. And with IBF, his 2nd date declarations of love, his talk of our children's names, the house we'd move into, our wedding, seemed so right. That this was it. At last. I'd found it.

But, poof. Gone, as quickly as it came. Our latest IM conversation? "I was crazy about you. And now I'm not--not in that way, at least."

I feel had. Why say those things? Why name our children, discuss our wedding, plan our future? Not if you don't mean it. If you're going to take it back less than a month later. I would have been much better without it. Thanks, but no thanks, buddy.

I'm hurt. And I'm sad. And I think, "What a waste." And the 12 year old in me takes me back to the old days. The hurt days, where my gut response was "when you're a big star, it won't matter."

But I'm not a big star. And I don't seem much closer to that than I was 14 years ago. Is this really fair?

"No one ever said life was fair, kid."

It's Over

Yesterday morning IBF and I decided to call it quits. I'm kinda bummed about it, since I really have no idea what happened with us, but I suppose it seems for the best. He really didn't seem into the relationship anymore anyway--and I don't want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me.

It's so strange though. The first month of our relationship was so wonderful. He seemed so great--he wanted me to stay over all the time, wanted me to meet his family (which I did) and was talking about us having kids, getting married, moving in, growing old together. All a little fast for me, but I went along with it. This blissful period was followed by two awkward weeks, then two bad ones, where he seemed resentful of everything I did--and seemed really upset that he had found himself in such a serious thing. But that was totally his doing, not mine. These past two weeks have been okay--after our big blowout two weekends ago, we both were going to try and mend things--but despite my repeated attempts to try, he didn't seem into it, and couldn't get back to where he was that first month. It seemed pointless to prolong the inevitable, I guess.

Our breakup was actually quite amicable, as far as they go. Despite the fact that I couldn't stop crying, we ordered food, and he agreed to redesign my website, as he had promised earlier, and we spent a few hours doing that. Then I rushed off into Pookalu's care, for dinner, drinks, and a birthday party. I totally owe her--most of my other friends are out of town this weekend, so I didn't have anyone else to turn to. Serendipitously enough, however, I ran into an ex-lover, who was happy to care for me the rest of the night. He was very sweet--though I never mentioned anything about the breakup, he could tell that something was wrong and was very consoling, without saying a word.

I'm doing much better. I've stopped crying, which is good, and have a huge party to go to at the theatre tonight, which I'm sure will lift my spirits.

Polly's on the market, yet again.