My Triumphant Return to the Gym

Just had to write about it because I’m so proud of myself for actually going! I realized this morning, while feeling like a fatty, that I haven’t been to the gym in a looooong time. I hadn’t been since before the hurricane, which at this point, is about a month and a half ago. My suspicions were further confirmed when I was looking for my sports bra this morning and found it buried under a pile of swimsuits, meaning that I probably wore a bikini more recently than gym attire… and I don’t remember the last time I was in a bikini.

This is how gangsta I feel.

But today the gym-drought ended! I belong to the Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA (literally around the corner from my apartment) and I was feeling so Brooklyn in there, listening to Jay-Z on my Ipod while doing dead-lifts. I resisted singing along since yelling “Can I get a F**k you” in the middle of the Bed-Stuy YMCA is probably going to gain some unwanted attention. The place already looks like a prison gym- full of big, black guys, aggressively pumping iron like their asshole’s innocence depends on it. Usually I just go to the treadmill, barely break a sweat, then go roll around on the mat and complain about having a cramp. But TODAY I ran 4.4 miles on the treadmill, burned over 500 calories, stretched until I got my forehead to touch the ground while in butterfly position, AND even tried to lift some weights!

BAM. Apart from being disgusting and sweaty right now, I feel so good!

Say No to Doctors.

So a bit more about Needle In The Haystack guy. Still seeing him. In all logic, he’s a great choice. Smart, funny, and, lately, very sensitive. The last time I was over at his place, as things started to get heated between us, he got up. This is not unusual for us- I figured he was just going to hit the overhead light, leave the kitchen light and TV on, and come back to bed to take care of business. Like all men do, for the most part. 

However- he got up, turned off the kitchen light, overhead light, and the TV. Then HE TURNED ON SOME MUSIC! I couldn’t believe it. This is like serious love-making quality stuff. This is the most intimate and romantic sex I’d had since probably college when I dated a guy who wasn’t selfish. Shocking, refreshing, awesome.

He usually provides the perfect amount of protection vs trust (a hugely important issue for me). On the protection side, for example, when I was groped by my airplane neighbor during landing a couple of weeks ago returning from Portland, I didn’t really know what to do. It was awkward and I felt dirty about it. He ditched right after we got off the plane and he had done it while we were descending, so it wasn’t like stewardesses were out and about. I was creeped out so I texted NITH guy. He told me I had to report it. Even if I can push it aside like no big issue, it is my civic duty to report something like that to try to save other people from having the same problems with the same creepy guy. So I did. I ended up getting 3,000 airline miles added to my account by the embarrassed and thoroughly confused customer service girl who had obviously thought I was calling to complain about the lack of meals served on flights nowadays. Sexual assault is not common, but not something to be taken lightly. I immediately felt better after doing it too. NITH does the right thing.

On the trust side- when I went up to Boston to see Boston Guy, he knew I was visiting a guy up there for the weekend. I appreciate the fact that he trusts me anyway and I appreciate even more that he didn’t ask me detailed questions. He simply asked “Did you have a good time?” Uhh, yes. Yes I did. (This, by the way, brings up a whole other set of issues that I have an enormous, illogical, and completely one-sided crush on Boston Guy, who has not contacted me in days. More on that later.)

Regardless of my issues, NITH is pretty much perfect. Clearly the most awesome guy in Manhattan. He is frustrating me currently though by taking his “protection side” out of bounds. He wants me to go to a doctor. 

Dr. Leo Spaceman of 30 Rock

I realize that I am sick, but not THAT sick. Two days ago this may have been viable. I hate doctors. Every time I go, it’s always some hassle where I spent the entire day in the waiting room, either filling out new patient paperwork or finding out that my insurance will not be accepted so I’ll have to pay out of pocket. Then, after jumping through hoops all day, I go to an uncomfortable appointment (because, with low budget clinics in NY, low expectations are the new high expectations.) Bedside manner is clearly not encouraged. It’s the typical argumentative bullshit New York attitude problem with every administrative person and doctor through the entire process. By the end of the appointment, they’ll tell you you’re sick and you should drink soup. Then they bill you $100 for that sage advice. They can’t even hook you up with some soup? They write prescriptions for every other thing! If I wanted to waste my whole day, be frustrated, and get free advice, I would just go to the DMV and then call my mom. Because that is what the doctor is like for me. Never worth it.

NITH is trying to bribe me via text message right now. He is trying to bribe me with a massage, which is usually the trump card for me doing anything. Not this though. I told him I would rather die alone in this apartment with my cat, a spinster in her prime, than go to the doctor. I’m not going unless it’s in an ambulance.

And, in any case, I’m FINE! I just have a gross cough now that will be here all season, just like every year, and nothing else is wrong. I think I might go have some coffee and go out today just to prove a point. Back off, NITH. You will not win the doctor argument. I am building my immune system by rejecting Western medicine!

Embracing Spinsterhood. An Exposé on What I Did Tonight.

Today I am sick. I’ve had the flu for a couple of days, but the fever has broken and I was eventually driven from the apartment due to a toilet paper shortage and to wash my sheets that I had sweated on all night. 

I also had what my Aussie friend would call “a case of the Sads.” This is where you’re depressed because things that you thought you would have had figured out are not turning out the way you had hoped. Career-wise, that is always the case for me, so I am almost numb to it. This was a boy related case. 

It was made worse because I was sore from the flu and coughing, alone, in my apartment with NYC-standard-issue uneven heating systems and watching marathon 30 Rock episodes with our cat. On a Saturday night. Loneliness rules all.

After getting too cold, I decided that a bath was the only thing that could fix this. I couldn’t get anyone to come out to Brooklyn to give me a massage (let alone ever) and I sure as hell wasn’t leaving the apartment again. Toilet Paper Quest took it out of me. 

However, I remembered that baths are incredibly boring. I brought my laptop in an balanced it on the toilet so I could continue watching, and turned on the bathroom space-heater, which reminded me of old times in college with my roommate. (When we had lived together, she refused to let us turn the heat on until hats had to come out, so I would always do my homework on the bathroom floor since it was the smallest room in the place. )

After setting up my laptop with my sitcoms, drawing a hot bath, and cranking up the heat, I also decided I was hungry. I grabbed the only food I had available- cold taco meat from making taco salads earlier in the week- and a fork and went off to the bathroom.

Sitting in the tub, chowing down on week old taco meat, a number of conflicting thoughts crossed my mind: “You have found a way to coordinate almost all of your favorite things! Warmth, 30 Rock, leftovers, and solitude. Oh, but you have reached a new level of sadness that you didn’t even know you had in you. No wonder you’re single. I wonder if this is something the character Liz Lemon would be doing? You’re taking this show too seriously.… Man, I hope my roommate doesn’t come home and walk in on this one.”

Luckily, she didn’t. Also, my freezing to death problem was solved for the meantime and I am now nice and clean and ready to go to bed on clean sheets. It’s the little things like this that I appreciate. Loneliness overruled!

Moving On Again

I’ve been avoiding this for a while, but it’s probably time to tackle this head on. Jobs. I like mine pretty well. My boss and I get on great, and as far as having to see someone 40 hours a week in an intimate 2 person office… well, I’m happy to say that we can still occasionally go out for drinks with other industry people after work and not strangle each other daily. It’s probably one of the healthier and more enjoyable employer/employee relationships I’ve ever had.

However, there are still a few problems in paradise.

Being as it’s a small office (aka, the two of us) he is clearly the boss/ owner/ person people call to talk to and I am the assistant. I don’t MIND doing some administrative stuff and I’m actually quite good at it, but the problem is that by being good at something I don’t particularly like, I’m pigeon holing myself into a perma-executive assistant type of spot.

While I love having no structure at work and very much appreciate the autonomy of having my own office and personal space, sometimes it presents a problem. In a corporate world, I would have a job title, business cards, some sort of probably written job description, and it would be understood that raises and benefits are to come in a certain time frame. None of these things are the case here. I don’t have business cards or a job title. Executive Assistant, Marketing Coordinator, Office Manager, Project Manager, Personal Assistant (occasionally) would all work as job titles. I wear basically all the hats besides “owner” and “lead salesperson” although I suspect I would have that one too if I knew a bit more about stones.  

Also, I’ve been working here for a year (6 months PT, 6 months FT) and there are still no benefits on the table. I have had this discussion with my boss a few times. He is “looking at plans” he says, but so far nothing has come to fruition. It’s not an emergency since I am on my parents’ insurance until I’m 26, but at the moment, this position doesn’t seem to be built in a way that will make much sense long term. No retirement, no benefits, and not particularly much salary either.

Unfortunately, all of our talks about these things tend to go nowhere, which then makes me think I need to explore some new opportunities. At least to see what else is out there. I like it here, but there is definitely going to be some sort of ceiling on growth and I’m not sure I’m ready to hit it this early. 

So far my Aussie friend and I have had many discussions and very little action on this topic. We’re considering a “Sexy Resume Party” in which we update our resumes to go get our dream jobs (not that I have any idea what that would be… another problem). Then, naturally, we will become rich and successful and live it up in NY rather than just survive here. (Usually a lot of wine is consumed and statements such as “I Love you, girl! I would hire you in a sssecond!” are thrown around). There may be a few missing steps, but no matter. I’m sure things will work out!

Too Much Of A Good Thing...

Having man troubles, except now it is the opposite of my usual problems in that I have a cup that runneth over instead of a cup that is completely dry. Last night I was texting my Needle in the Haystack guy, who is still too clever for me as demonstrated by the following conversation:
Me: So I breifly considered the gym. Didn't go. But I am still patting myself on the back because I cooked at home and made food like an adult. And then I sat down and ate it at the table instead of over the counter with a napkin or out of the box or something. Heyo!
NITH : I hope to someday have a table.
Me : In my case, it came with the apartment. Thanks, Roommate.
NITH: Mine came with loud French teenage neighbors. Thanks, Napoleon.

Zing! That boy gets me. I like the challenge. However, due to his extreme sarcasm, he's not especially romantic or feely or whatever, so I've been getting THAT fulfilled with entirely too much naughty texting with the 34 year old guy in Boston. That conversation is like reading 50 Shades of Gray, so I will not be posting it. He is a giver, incredibly sensitive, and- unfortunately- in Boston.

He visited me in NY a couple of weeks ago and some stuff (not sex) definitely happened. But it was GOOD. However, this is incredibly inconvenient timing as I had just begun recently sleeping with NITH. Boston knows about NITH, so I don’t feel too bad about that. And he’s in Boston anyway (not being a saint, I’m sure).  NITH doesn’t know about Boston. Just that he’s a friend who visited recently. Technically, I’m single. I have had no exclusivity conversations with anyone about anything and I don’t see a ring on this finger. Time to be a Samantha, I guess, but I still feel a bit guilty about it.

My main problem is not wanting anyone to get hurt while I am whoring around figuring things out. Honesty is pretty painful with this sort of situation, but finding out when you had a different expectation of what was going on is so much worse. That would make me no better than 2FD. I still feel wronged by that whole situation, so I don’t want to end up being a hypocrite doing the same thing as he is. Given that I like both of these people quite a lot, I would hate to damage either of them in any way.

I don't know what to do here. Damnit.