Anddd a Milkshake

I want to share a video I came across from a fellow blogger. He’s pretty amazing, and I’m sure many of you have seen his videos before. He’s also exceptionally easy on the eyes. I would love to “hang out” with him and come up with something we can both blog about 😉

Anyway. I digress. Here is one of his video posts I found really funny and relatable.

Back to our regularly scheduled program:

Sunday arrived. My parents and I woke and went to church. Unbeknownst to them, I hadn’t gone in a while. However, since I moved to a new part of town, we would be going to a new church.

At mass, I immediately noticed something about the priest at the Catholic church closest to my new apartment. He was young. And, he was hot! He certainly was going to have my attention throughout the mass.

I know it’s terrible to objectify a priest, but I couldn’t help myself. He was kinda dreamy and very down-to-earth.

As I was leaving the church, I shook his hand. He did a double-take as I walked away. I think he recognized a young person in his congregation who he’d never seen before.

Nothing would ever happen there, but it could still be motivation for me to attend mass in the future.

After church, the whole family went out for breakfast. We met my sister at the restaurant and had a very nice morning. While we waited for our table, I took the opportunity to talk to my mom more about Smiles. I even showed her a few pictures. We had a nice casual conversation.

Following breakfast, my dad helped me with a few last-minute needs before they got on the road home. I was very appreciative for everything they did for me all weekend, and I wished them safe travels.

After they left, I still had my work cut out for me. I went shopping to get a majority of the supplies I would need for my holiday party and went to bed.

While shopping, Smiles texted, “Hey. How’s your day been?” I decided to pick up the phone and call him. I really missed him. We talked a bit, but he was watching TV, and I was shopping. I continued to text and picture message him in all my travels around New Jersey for party supplies and groceries. He was “being a fat girl with a pint of ice cream and Vampire Diaries. I was originally going to bring him ice cream when I brought him the soup, but I never had time to get it for him. “Glad to hear you found it on your own,” I told him.

When Monday arrived, I was anxious to see Smiles. It’d been some time since I had any one-on-one time with him. That would have to wait. I had this obligation called a job to take care of first.

When I was finishing up at the office, I texted Smiles to make sure he was coming to my holiday party. He was the only one who hadn’t RSVPed yet. I also called to see if he was home. I wanted to come by and see him. He was home and told me to come over for dinner.

I arrived and gave him a gentle hug. I really missed him and was happy to see he was doing alright. He wanted sushi, and I was certainly fine with that, so we placed our order. He’d been getting into Vampire Diaries, so he informed me we’d be watching that. I was fine with that because I was just happy to get to be with him.

It turned out to be a very nice night together. We were enjoying the show together, and he was taking the time to catch me up when necessary. He’d been putting a serious dent in the soup I made for him as well.

When we finished eating, he had a hankering for dessert. Surprise, surprise. The man has quite the sweet tooth. He wanted a milkshake. I learned there was a place around the corner who had them, Kool Bloo, so we looked them up online. He decided what he wanted, and I ran out to get us milkshakes and dessert.

I’m not exactly sure why, but I also bought us a slice of cheesecake. That would end up in the fridge for him to eat at a later time. We both enjoyed our milkshakes, even though we couldn’t find a difference between the two considering we ordered different flavors.

It was getting late, and I didn’t plan on spending the night. One episode was ending, so I made that my cue to make my way home. This was the first time I set the timetable for my departure. Usually, he was the one who indicated when it was time for me to leave. It was a nice change.

“Addicted!!!!” he texted as I walked home. Apparently he got himself into a few more episodes of Vampire Diaries after I left. I simply responded, “LOL! 😉 .”

Delighted with the night and the fact I got to see him, I went to bed a happy man.

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Breaking Through

Saturday night, we had a special celebration planned. Every year, to commemorate another year of my father being on the planet, my parents come visit, and we go out to dinner in New York City. Afterwards, we take in all the Christmas sights around town.

Even though I recently moved and invited my parents into town to help me move in, this year would be no different.

With a closet built and an entire chest of drawers assembled, we prepared to go out for dinner. My parents wanted to have dinner in Hoboken, so I decided to take them to my favorite restaurant I go to every year for my birthday, Piri Piri. I coordinated with my sister to meet her there to celebrate my father’s birthday.

We sat down for dinner and placed our appetizer orders. Somewhere along the way, we started to talk about me and the guy I was dating. For the first time, they didn’t change the subject to who my sister was dating at the time. I was shocked when my mother brought it up. I think they got the hint this was more than just a fling when I went into the city to spend the night. They were finally taking an interest in my dating life, and I loved it. They asked questions about what he did for a living and where he grew up. It was great. I was happy to talk about him.

Both my father and my mother were showing a vested interest. I wonder if my sister spoke to them about my unhappiness. It seems like a night-and-day shift from past history. I don’t care how the change came about. I’m just happy it happened. My dating life is a LARGE part of who I am, and for them to not share that with me was painful (However, I don’t share everything. I don’t quite know how to tell them I write a blog).

Our food arrived, and we had a very pleasant meal. My sister wasn’t feeling well, so when we were ready to make our way into the city, she went home instead to rest.

I took my parents to a cute shop in Hoboken, Michaelangela’s. They had the store decked out wall-to-wall with Christmas decorations and ornaments. We continued to the PATH as I asked them what they’d like to see. We have all grown tired of the standard Macy’s windows and the Rockefeller Christmas Tree. One of our favorite displays, the Sak’s snowflake window show, was discontinued. I proposed a new set of sights. We’d never done the Union Square shops, so I proposed we start there.

When we got off the PATH, we walked to Union Square. It wasn’t too cold out, so the walk wasn’t too bad. When we arrived, all the shops were closed for the night. I apologized, and we hopped into a cab to head uptown to Bloomingdale’s. This was another part of the city we never usually visited. The cab ride was cramped, and he was a very bad driver. I’ve never gotten so many red lights in the city in my life!

Bloomingdale’s was less than thrilling, so I suggested we head over towards Fifth Avenue. My mom kept commenting on how impressed she was. She couldn’t believe how quickly I could learn to navigate the city coming from a the farm life out in the country. I explained how easy it was. As I was showing them new landmarks they’d never visited before, my mother commented on how many she’d seen on her Sex in the City tour of New York City. (I found it ironic that subject came up. Even though I’ve only seen the show twice, I aspire to maintain my blog in the Sex in the City fashion).

She was finally piecing parts of the city she’d been to before together on a map in her mind. It was all starting to make sense to her. Who knew Sex in the City could teach you geography. We window shopped as we walked because many stores were closed. I took them to The Plaza Hotel. They were happy to see the inside since they’ve never been.

Afterwards, we walked past the Bergdorf Goodman window displays. These are some of my favorites since they are not childish and are often done tastefully. My parents took pictures in front of them and of each and every window. They really enjoyed them. I was happy to be sharing the joy with my parents after they spent the weekend substantially helping me settle in to my new apartment.

A small part of me wished Smiles joined us on our little adventure. It would have been nice for him to meet my parents and spend a little time with them, but we weren’t there yet. I also wanted him there because I love spending Christmas in the city with someone I care about. Last year, Broadway and I made a point to take in the Christmas sights. He even treated me The Plaza Hotel to my first drink ever bought for me by another man at. I wanted to share such happy times with someone else I cared about. However, this wasn’t possible or realistic. We weren’t at the meet the parents stage yet, and Smiles was home in bed recovering.

We continued to stroll down Fifth Avenue, but by this time, we were searching for some kind of dessert. We were striking out because it was around 11:00 at night. Most things had closed for the night. On top of that, I was walking around the city on a freshly sprained ankle — Probably not the best idea. My parents were starting to grow weary as well, so I suggested we head towards my office for a pit stop before hopping on the PATH home.

I realized we’d be passing McDonald’s, so I suggested we get hot fudge sundaes, cookies, and fries for dessert. My parents agreed. It would also eliminate the stop at my office because I could use the restrooms there.

I checked the PATH schedule. The next train was leaving in eight minutes, and the following one was another fifteen minutes after that. I urged them to hurry and bring our dessert with us. We hustled to the train, making it there with a little time to spare.

Luckily, we all got seats and relaxed on our ride home. I was really happy to do something nice for my parents in return for what they do for me. It was nice spending some quality time with them as well. I was also still on a high from their newfound interest in my love-life. It removed a big roadblock in our relationship. I could go to bed a happy man.

It was a long day, and we were all tuckered out. We would all surely sleep well the minute our heads touched the pillow.

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Chicken Soup for the Surgical Soul

Since my parents were staying with me to help me settle in after a move, I was relegated to the couch. Luckily, my roommate was out of town for work at the same time. Before he left, I asked if he minded if I use his bed.

It was working out quite well for me. Smiles offered me his bed Thursday night, and my roommate was nice enough to allow me to use his the other two nights my parents were staying with me.

We woke early that Saturday morning. We had a lot to do, so we got started with breakfast and began our day.

My mother finished unpacking the kitchen and washing dishes while my father and I got a jump on my closet. Since I had it designed and all the boards were cut to size, it should be a relatively simple project.

We were making good progress when I realized I needed to take a break so I could deliver the chicken soup I made for Smiles the night before. I texted him, “Morning babe. How you feeling? Gonna be home in a little bit? Gonna swing by and drop something off for you. :).” He was awake and responded relatively quickly: “Going to crawl over to see the doctor, then straight home. Should be back about 12:00.”

I asked him how he was feeling since he was in surgery only a few hours earlier.  “OK. Sore, but can move,” he responded. “Will you bring over Tylenol? I can’t go out again to get some, and I need it for swelling,” he asked. I was more than happy to be able to help him. I felt guilty I wasn’t there when he woke up from surgery. I originally planned to, but with the move, it became difficult. Luckily, one of his other friends was able to be there.

I sent him a text letting him know I was on my way, and he responded, “OK. See you in a bit. [My friend] is stopping by to bring me soup :).”

SH*T! I didn’t want her to beat me there with soup. Chances are she made chicken soup too, because who makes anything else when someone is sick or recovering. The race was on. I needed to get there first. I didn’t want to be the superfluous soup. I wanted to be the primary.

I quickly packed up the soup and added some of the brownies my dad made. I ran down the stairs and hopped on the bike. I was off into the tunnel. It would take me only fifteen minutes to get to his apartment. Hopefully I would beat her there!

When I buzzed at his door, his friend answered. DAMNIT! She beat me. I was so disappointed. She came down to let me in since the buzzer wasn’t working. We chatted while we descended the stairs about how we hadn’t seen each other since the Hamptons for the film festival.

When I walked in the door, Smiles was sitting on the couch eating a bowl of soup. I noticed the take-out containers on the counter and realized she didn’t make soup. She’d only brought him soup for lunch.

I showed Smiles the large Rubbermaid of soup and placed it in his fridge. I also told him about the brownies, and he asked me to bring them to him now.

I came into the living room and gave Smiles a kiss. I sat while Smiles and his friend continued their conversation about work. I noticed a very large bouquet of flowers by his bedside and eucalyptus next to the couch in a vase. The arrangement was gorgeous, and I immediately felt guilty and outdone. I know it wasn’t a competition over who cared more about him, but in my warped mind, it was. (I later learned he bought the flowers himself before the surgery since he’d be so homebound).

While sitting and talking, another friend arrived. I was also taking every opportunity to wait on Smiles. I gave him the Tylenol, got him water and cleared his dishes. I learned he was the one who brought Smiles home from the hospital. We’d met before, so I said hi. The four of us sat and chatted a bit about a funny scenario involving Smiles, his straight friend and a girl from the night before.

After a bit, he had to be on his way. The conversation changed from Smiles’ movie project to a new work project he was getting into. I moved across the room to help massage a knot out of Smiles’ back. I was crouching next to the couch in an uncomfortable position, so when I couldn’t take it anymore, I made a move back across the room. Smiles then moved over on the couch and asked me to continue. I was happy to be doting on my man.

The time came where I ha to get back to my parents and moving in. I already stayed past the time I told my parents I’d be back. I’d been waiting for the opportune time to head out. I was under the impression his friend/coworker was going to leave shortly, and I wanted a little alone time with Smiles. When that didn’t happen, I had to bounce.

I kissed him goodbye and told him I’d talk to him later as I made my way out.

When I got home, later in the day, I received a text from him. “Thank you for coming over and making soup. Yay.” I told him I was glad to see he was okay and to think nothing of the soup. “Ya know, those brownies aren’t going to make it to tomorrow. Haha,” he added. We joked about what it might do to his system.

I was happy to see him in good sorts and glad he was surrounded by friends. I was also happy I got to show him how much I cared about him, even though I was insanely busy getting settled in my new apartment. He’s a good man, and he deserves special treatment every once in a while.

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Appendectomy

I’m always happy to wake up next to Smiles. And, if you ever read my blog, you know I wake up horny when I’m next to a sexy man. This morning was no different.

If anything, it was intensified by the idea of abstaining from sex for quite some time since Smiles would be recovering from his appendectomy.

My alarm went off at 9:00am, and I knew I’d have to head home in a timely fashion or deal with my parents nagging. We cuddled in bed for some time, and I made some effort to seduce Smiles, but his head was elsewhere. I’m sure he was still working himself up over his surgery in a few hours.

I realized it was time to make my way home, and he told me his plans for the morning before his surgery. He wanted to move some of the last few boxes over to storage before he went under the knife. He knew he would be apartment bound for at least a week, and he wouldn’t be able to lift the boxes with his stitches. I, however, knew there was no way in hell he was going to accomplish that in the time he had before heading to the hospital.

I arrived home and my parents and I made breakfast. We mapped out our plan for the day. We had a lot of places to go — Lowes, Ikea, West Elm, The Container Store… It was going to be a long productive day.

My father and I went over the plans for the closet one more time to make sure our math was correct before going to Lowes for custom cut boards to build shelves and clothes hanging bars.

We worked on a few things around the apartment to get unpacked and settled before we began the day’s errands. I also had to make a trek to CVS to get some supplies to take care of my ankle. Once we got my apartment in decent shape, we made our rounds. This took up a majority of the day.

Smiles was supposed to be done surgery around 4:00/4:30. It was 5:00 and I still hadn’t heard from him. I was starting to worry.

Finally at 5:45, he texted, “All done. Going to bed. Soooo tired.” I responded, “Was just about to text you. Was getting worried… Glad to hear you’re okay. Talk to you tomorrow ;).”

When we realized we weren’t going to be home in time for a decent dinner, we decided to have the turkey the following day for lunch instead of dinner that night. We settled on Swedish meatballs from Ikea instead (We grabbed them after many friends recommended them, but I recommend you stay away from them!).

That night, my father and I assembled what we could to prepare for the work we needed to do the following day. It was late, so we couldn’t begin on the closet just yet.

I took the opportunity to work on my other side project. I wanted to make Smiles chicken soup since I knew he wouldn’t be able to make it out to provide for himself and wasn’t going to be cooking. If you can’t tell, I love taking care of the people I care about. It makes me happy and makes me feel needed. I wonder if I give too much sometimes, but then I reassure myself that I’d rather that than being incredibly selfish. I also think it makes up for the times I am selfish, which can be quite often.

While making the soup, I finally told my parents of my plan to visit Smiles the following afternoon since I was unable to help bring him home from the hospital that day.

I put a lot of love into that soup. It was my way of showing him how much I cared about him, and I couldn’t wait to deliver that appreciation.

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Mom & Dad to the Rescue

Moving to a new apartment is both exciting and strenuous. For me, anything new is stimulating, but the arduous task of physically moving is exhausting. I needed to call in reinforcements.

Before my big move, I enlisted the help of my parents. When I broached the subject with them, my mother pointed out their physical inability to help my move. She volunteered them to come help me pack or unpack, but they were not lifting any boxes. I would never even consider the idea since neither of them are spring chickens.

I preferred they help me unpack because I would be able to pack over a long period of time, but I would need to have my apartment set up quickly for my holiday party. I also had a few major alterations I wanted to implement in the new place. I design a closet I would need to build to fit all my clothes. (This is where my inner gay comes screaming out).

They were set to arrive Thursday night in time to come watch my sister and I play in our weekly volleyball league. They were going to stay through the weekend, so my mother made lasagna and was bringing a turkey. We planned to go to the gym for our match and then have a late night dinner after.

The night before, Smiles offered for me to stay with him Thursday night since he knew my parents were staying with me. I graciously accepted since it would save me from sleeping on the couch when I gave up my bed for my parents. I thought it was really sweet of Smiles to notice that and offer a solution. He was also going into surgery the next day. While I was comforting him and put on a brave face since he was so worked up about it, I am always slightly concerned any time someone goes under the knife, especially when they’re being put under. I care a great deal about him, so I was thrilled to sleep with him the night before surgery.

My parents have seen my sister play volleyball in college, but had never seen me play. I was excited for them to be there. However, I was still exhausted. I could barely keep my eyelids open, as they felt like sandpaper, and I could barely lift my arms. We were doing fairly well, when out of nowhere, I came down on the side of my ankle after a hit. I knew as I was coming down to the floor it was a bad sprain. I’d sprained both ankles many times before running cross-country and playing tennis in high school. I was done.

I moved over to the bleachers to elevate my ankle and ice while my team finished out the matches. My mother took the opportunity to point out that I should have taken the night off. A sprained ankle couldn’t have come at a worse time. I still had a lot I needed to do that weekend. The only thing that could have made it worse was if it came the night before the big move.

My team fared well without me, and they all came over to console me after they finished. The sprain was bad, but I was able to walk on it. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew exactly what I was in for.

When I got home, my mother, who teaches athletic training to high school students, wrapped my ankle. I hadn’t told my parents yet, but I was still planning to ride into the city and spend the night in Smiles’ bed.

As we were waiting for the lasagna to heat up in the oven, I proposed my sleeping situation to them. They didn’t seem phased by it, but pointed out that I needed to be home in the morning at a reasonable hour. I told them about his surgery and how I would have to leave earlier regardless, but I wasn’t waking up until 9:00 anyway.

I was leery about the ride into the city. When I sprained my ankle, all I could think about was if it would limit my ability to shift gears on my motorcycle to ride into the city to Smiles’ bed. Luckily, I was still able to do so after wrapping it.

Smiles called to see when I would be coming into the city, and I told him I would arrive around midnight after we finished eating.

I got my parents settled, threw on sweats to head into the city and was on my way.

When I arrived, Smiles told me how long he had to go without eating or drinking anything, even water. He was a little worked up, so I did my best to calm his nerves. I told him to concentrate on his hot doctor instead. I was really hoping for one last throw down in the sheets since I knew he’d be out of commission for quite some time, but since it was so late, that wasn’t in the cards. Instead, after chatting a little bit about my ankle and his surgery, we dozed off in each other’s arms.

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Moving Date

After my impromptu date with Smiles Monday night, I sent him a text telling him how I truly felt. I didn’t feel entirely comfortable doing it, but that’s who I am. I speak my mind. I realized I needed to start being myself and stop worrying about “auditioning” for Smiles.

The next morning, I received a very surprising text from Smiles. “Morning handsome, sleep well? I woke up at 4:30 ready to go for the day! Weird huh? Guess that happens when into bed at 10:00. LOL. Hope you have a good day.”

He never sent me text messages like that. Maybe I’d opened up a new door that granted me access to his feelings. I shot him a text back as I walked to work: “Morning sexy. Slept great! Can’t believe you were ever up that early! Good luck with your client today!” The previous night, while talking with my roommate in my bedroom, I noticed written among the list of other things actually in the box on one of the packed boxes on my bookshelf was “Sex Toys.” After asking my roommates and my sister if they were the culprits, I snapped a picture with my phone and sent it to Smiles with the caption. “Btw… Was this you?” He copped up to doing it.

“LOL. Now I’m that guy walking down the street laughing to himself that everyone looks at like he’s nuts…” I responded.

I went on with my workday and didn’t hear from him again. Late that night, I sent him a text: “Hey babe. How’d your day go?” but sadly, I received no response.

I woke early the next day to begin my long arduous day of moving to a new apartment. This was no small feat. I own a lot of things, and we weren’t able to procure a moving team since we were moving mid-week. Myself and my three roommates were going to have to work overtime to get it all done in one day. I had been dreading it for two months.

The morning was spent retrieving a UHaul truck and loading it up. That was the easy part. We had an elevator for that part. The hard part would come when moving into our new apartment. In the middle of all this, I got a text from Smiles. It was a welcome distraction, but I barely even had the time to look at the message. “Hey there. Find anything to do today?” I responded indignantly, “Are you kidding me?! So sore already.” He responded with laughter and a wink. “Presentation to dr.’s went well today. Just finished grabbing lunch and getting back to work,” he detailed. I congratulated him and went back to lifting heavy boxes and furniture.

After hours and hours of grueling lifting, walking and carrying, I took a break to eat something. I realized I’d forgotten to eat all day, and I was starving! As I was finally putting food into my face, I received another text from Smiles. It was just the little pick-me-up I needed to get me through the rest of the night. “How did the move go? Ya worn out yet? I’m not looking forward to this surgery Friday. More on my mind than it should be. :(” He scheduled an appendectomy for himself in the coming days. Apparently it was weighing on his mind. In this respect, Smiles is a delicate flower. He was stressing himself over routine surgery. I found it cute. I was happy to be seeing his fragile side.

After reading his message, I tried to call him. I received a text message in response: “At Webster Hall. A friend from L.A. is performing tonight.” I’d forgotten he had plans for the evening. “Oh yea… I’m pooped but far from done… Don’t worry about your appendix. Call me later if you’re not too intoxicated ;),” I responded. I knew I would be up for a few more hours if nothing more than to find some sort of bed to sleep on. Smiles responded, “LOL. Light drinking. I promise.”

He called as he was making his way home for the night. I was exhausted from working to the bone all day. I swear I lost ten pounds that day. I become so much more energized the moment my phone rang. I knew immediately it was from him. We talked about my grueling day and what he did to occupy himself for the day. He told me about his friend and the concert that night before we said goodnight. That little call was all I wanted and was looking forward to all day.

I could go to bed happy, even though I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor amongst a sea of boxes.

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Happy New Year!

Hopefully you’re waking up to a scene similar to this one this morning! Happy New Year!

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New Years Eve

Honestly, I hate New Year’s Eve almost as much as I despise Valentine’s Day. That being said, I hope you night fares far better than mine have in the past. Find that special someone when the ball touches down to plant a big one on and celebrate a new year and new beginnings!

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Rallying Friends

Every year, for the past four years, I’ve hosted an annual holiday party. Ironically, I started it with a First Annual Holiday Bash because I wanted it to become one of my holiday traditions. It would be the one time of year I gathered with my closest friends and spent time with them around the holidays to show just how much I truly appreciate their friendship.

From its first year, it’s been a big hit. An invitation one year is no guarantee of an invitation the following year. I always make sure I surround myself with the people in my life I care most about. If within the following year I fall out of touch with someone, I don’t extend an invitation.

Earlier this year, my friend reached out to me to plan weekends in December. She knows of my party and wanted to make sure I wasn’t hosting it the same night she was celebrating her birthday. We both picked dates and put it to bed.

Months later, I found out I was being evicted from my apartment since my landlord finally sold it. Our eviction date was November 30th; eleven days before the planned date of my holiday party.

This was one tradition I was not ready to relinquish, not matter what it took. Some of my friends look forward to the party a full year in advance. I make an incredible spread (not allowing anyone to bring any food of any sort), and everyone fasts for an entire day leading up to the party.

This posed a serious challenge. I would have to move into a new apartment, get it settled and cater for about forty people in ten days — A near impossible feat. However, my determination is not to be underestimated.

When I sent out my Evite, my sister immediately criticized the invitation of N. She was shocked to see I would invite him, but she also didn’t have the full story.

Apparently over the course of my short relationship with N, I mentioned my annual holiday party. As the holiday season was drawing nearer, he asked for the date of said party: “When is your holiday party so I can put it in my calendar? I’m trying to attend as many holiday parties as possible without missing one.”

Did he just invite himself to my holiday party?! I mean, he was on the maybe list, I’ll admit that. But I had no intention of inviting him in the first round of invitations.

This isn’t because I was holding a grudge over our failed relationship. It was mainly because I was disappointed in him. Considering we lived across the street from each other, I thought I’d at the very least be seeing him periodically. However, since our last discussion about our failed relationship, I hadn’t seen him once. I still had never been to his apartment considering I basically walked past it every day. He never put in an effort to be my friend following our breakup, so I no longer felt the need to attempt myself. I’d given up.

When he invited himself, I had to quickly think of the best and most dignified way to deal with the situation at hand. I started with honesty. “Oh.. Are you invited to my holiday party???” I quipped. “I’m …. just gonna go… f*ck myself…” he responded. I successfully made him feel uncomfortable, but then lightened the blow. I couldn’t do much. My hands were tied. I’m not rude enough to tell him he can’t come, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted him there either. “HAHAHA. Just giving you sh*t. Sending out the Evites today…”

When others friends learned of his attendance, they weren’t happy. I was confused by this. I didn’t think anyone would care. When we were dating, my friends loved him. Everyone approved and expressed this to me. He was a very charismatic guy to be around and played nice with all my friends. It was one of the biggest things that attracted me to him.

However, when he crushed me at the end of our relationship, everyone’s opinion of him quickly shifted.

I have to admit, I don’t know if my opinion wouldn’t have shifted so drastically. If he didn’t do anything to hurt me, I would see no need for malice toward him. I wouldn’t be his best friend, but I would certainly be civil.

This wasn’t the case with my friends. In an overwhelming show of support, they all rallied against him and attempted to convince me to retract my invitation.

I was blown away. I never experienced anything like that before from my friends. I was truly touched.

However, I would not be able to fulfill their requests. I was not capable of uninviting him. I also felt it gave him the satisfaction of thinking he still had an effect on my life. I’d completely moved on. It took a long time, and I went through a lot of turmoil to get to that point. But, I didn’t need him to know that. (Not quite sure if he’s still reading the blog…)

One friend, J, was particularly poignant in his disapproval. “I’ll crack his head open.” I told him I was going to be civil, but I wasn’t going to pay much attention to him when he arrived. “Honestly, I think its risky having him there. Especially since he is a drama oriented person.” He pointed out that N may bring up the blog in front of Smiles just to p*ss me off. “Good point… Going to have to tell him not to mention the blog,” I added. “He may leave early since no one really wants him there.”

K and some of my other friends expressed their lack of interest in interacting with him, and he didn’t really know many others. J responded, “If I have anything to do with it he will leave early.” I couldn’t believe how passionate J was getting about this. He’d never even met N. “Look I’ll be civil… but if he gets out of line you let me know.”

One of my other friends who witnessed my rebound in Martha’s Vineyard, Shorty, made the following suggestion: “You should warn him that your friends aren’t really fond of him so he doesn’t feel bombarded if people are mean to him.” “No one will be mean to him, but they’re not going to go out of their way to be nice,” I speculated. “Haha. I might be mean if I happen to end up talking to him :),” she finished.

I couldn’t believe how much my friends were rallying behind me. To be honest, I thought they all thought I blew things out of proportion when it ended. I thought they all looked at me like I was crazy for being so emotionally broken up after dating someone for a month and a half. He really did break me down a little bit, and I still feel some of the lasting effects of that relationship, as much as I would like to put it in the past and forget it. But, I thought they all thought I was being melodramatic. Apparently, they validated my sentiments.

On another level, N wanted to bring his new boyfriend. I’m sure he’s a sweet guy, but I’d never met him. I didn’t want him at my holiday party. It wasn’t the time or the place to meet him. Selfishly and childishly I also wanted the upper hand. I wanted N to see me happy with someone else, Smiles, while he didn’t have his security blanket to hold onto. I know that is very immature, but in the dating world, I am still a teenager. I’d like anyone to disagree with me they wouldn’t want to do the same thing.

So, I told him he couldn’t bring him. I explained he situation, and I think N accepted my reasoning. It was going to be an interesting night regardless. Many variables were bouncing around, and no one could predict the night, even if some of my friends wanted to start a pool of bets on how early in the night N departed…

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Night of Surprises

After an attempt to make lunch plans, Smiles and I were striking out to find time to get together after a week apart.

I told him I was heading home for the night and was about to leave work. However, I was pleasantly surprised to get the text, “Meet me for a drink at Extra Virgin. I haven’t heard from [my friend] confirming dinner yet, so I’m guessing it will be closer to 8:00 or he will flake.” I wasn’t thrilled with being second choice/fall-back, but I knew this was a friend he hadn’t seen in years who was in the city from L.A., so I was understanding.

I agreed to meet him and texted him when I arrived at the restaurant. “Oh goodness. I’ll be there in 10. Btw, I forgot I have a call from 6:00 – 6:30. My life is a pain-in-the-ass sometimes,” was the response I received. It didn’t help I was already feeling like an afterthought. Now I was learning the little time I had to spend with him was going to be interrupted by a half hour phone call.

I’d already been waiting for him for 15 minutes before he arrived. We exchanged a quick peck and a hug, and he suggested I could go inside while he made the call. I told him I could occupy myself outside while he took care of business.

While he talked with his movie team about next steps with their film, I sat on my phone playing with every app I could think of to pass the time. I checked my WordPress stats. I answered emails. I read everyone’s Twitter post that day. Anything I could do to keep busy.

When he finished his call, we grabbed a seat at the bar. The bartender was struggling to harvest a pomegranate, so I offered to help her. Smiles pointed out my culinary experience and told her she was in for a real treat. She was all too happy to receive my advice, as this was one chore she abhorred. After running to the restroom to wash my hands, I demonstrated for her how she could save herself some time and energy. She was very appreciative of my advice and thanked me.

Smiles and I placed our drink orders. We chatted over drinks on the spinning stools. I made it a point to turn my stool so I was facing him and our legs were interlocked. I heard all about his holiday on Long Island and the craziness he went through upon his return with his client. I told him about my relaxing trip home, my dysfunctional family, my Black Friday adventures, and my slow day at work.

At one point he had my his arms extended with his hands on my thighs rubbing them. He flippantly made the comment, “I love your big manly legs.” This was the first time he’d ever complimented my physically, so I took notice. He continued to rub them and massage them, and I continued to melt inside.

At that moment, he checked his phone and learned his friend wouldn’t be able to do dinner that evening, so they agreed upon breakfast the following morning.

With that, he turned to me and asked if I’d like to get dinner somewhere. Surprised, I told him, “Well. We’re already here. Why don’t we just eat here.” I was expecting to get the boot at any moment throughout the course of the evening, but instead I was extended a dinner invitation. Once again, I was happy to get to spend time with him.

We quickly placed our dinner orders and continued our conversation. Our dinner was very pleasant, and our meals were excellent. After we finished eating, we split the bill and began to walk down the street.

As per usual, when we reached the crossroad between his place and the PATH, we said goodbye. And, as per usual, it was said with a simple kiss and a gentle squeeze. I pulled him back in for another kiss and made it more than a peck. He smiled, and we said goodbye.

When I got back to Hoboken, on my walk to my apartment, I texted, “Mmmmmmm. I like you. You make me happy… Just felt the need to say that…” He responded twenty minutes later, “Awwww. 🙂 Thank you.” Clearly, he didn’t feel confident to reciprocate the sentiment just yet, which stung slightly, but then again, I already knew  I was ready to move faster than was…

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