You're a Big Girl, Hold It

We've Come to An End

2004 is almost over, and a lot of things are coming to an end. This website included. It was there when I needed it, but this is where it needs to stop.

The world doesn't need another site of single girl missives. That's right. I am now a single girl.

Besides, this was a website about growing up, and being a single girl is sort of like regressing. But I can live with that.

Subway Observation #6

Nobody flinches when a guy pulls out a switchblade on an uptown number 2 train. The guy holds the knife open, rotating it, admiring it. It's thick and long, like a steak knife. People consciously don't look at him. I stand with my back mostly to him, watching his reflection in the subway car window. I breathe a sigh of relief when I get off at the next stop, and he doesn't.

The incident reminds me of a house party the boyfriend and I once went to in Ithaca. While the boyfriend is outside almost getting arrested for setting off firecrackers, I am inside with a homeless man. When the homeless man hears there are cops around, he pulls out a knife. The partygoers think this is hysterical. When the boyfriend reappears, I started whispering to him that we had to leave now. Now.

Two years later, I hear the boyfriend's friend Justin does a hell of an impression of my reaction. Even the boyfriend still thinks it's funny.

Sure.

Happy Three Years!

My boyfriend and I celebrated three years together today. We almost didn't make it this far -- and (as the fight drags on) we might not make it much further. But I think the two of us -- as unlikely as we were -- really made an incredible team.

After all, who else encourages me to be creative? Who else finds the humor in a website, where he more often than not comes across like a jerk? Who else hangs my "artwork" on his fridge with magnets? Who else tells me I look like an elf in my winter cap? Who else would install my air conditioner? Twice? Who else likes it when I sing silly songs? Who else appreciates a good "I love you THIS much?" Who else lets me take him shopping for clothes I like? Who else would beat up a student government member for making off-color comments? Who else chases Haddonfield bunnies? Who else makes yummy "small animal cocoa?"

And who taught me how to stand up for myself? How to be a hard-ass? How to laugh at myself? How to laugh at other people? How not to care what other people think? How to evade the law? How to drive drunk? How to fly kites?

So on our third anniversary, I just want to tell the boyfriend that it's been one hell of a ride ... no matter what happens. You'll always be special to me, G.

Keeping Secrets Secret

I've learned my lesson, and I can't talk about it.

Things I'm Glad About

I'm glad there's no heat in the apartment.
I'm glad it's finally getting cold.
I'm glad I'm fighting with my boyfriend.
I'm glad there's a hair salon opening in my building.
I'm glad that in order to take a vacation from work, I need to work twice as hard leading up to it.

I'm glad I have this blog ... so I can listen to myself complain ....

(not) For All Mankind

I've heard the truism that a pair of 7 jeans can make any ass look hot. I've even seen some pretty amazing transformations with my own eyes. So while shopping at the Soho Bloomie's today, I decided to try on a couple of pairs. And I've come to this conclusion: my ass must be hopeless, because the magical jeans don't work for me.

But if I'm honest with myself, I know that Manhattan hardly needs another short brunette in a pair of 7 jeans.

So I bought myself a pretty nice consolation prize, which look great from behind, and went on my merry way.

That Kind of Day

Today has been that type of awful day when you find out that your landlord who lives downstairs is moving out, and a hair salon is moving in.

I need to save my pennies for my first Manhattan apartment ... four and a half more months! (Well, I can dream, can't I?)

I'm ... Guess What? Edgy!

My boss told me today that I have an "edge." She meant it as a compliment too. Do I have an edge? Am I snarky? Hmm ...

High School, Revisited

I actually watched 24 minutes of a VH1 show called My Coolest Years tonight. This episode was about geeks. My high school was 100% geeks. You had to take a test to get in. I think that says it all.

I was somewhere in the middle, I think. Luckily my best high school friend was beautiful and cool and fun and, even though she was Indian, attracted hot Jewish boys. Meanwhile I dated someone who played the oboe. Beat that.

Ouch

I kicked my own ass in the gym yesterday.

I Want to Date This Guy

I have every intention of leaving my apartment before it gets dark today, but I had to gush about my new best friend. Actually, I've never met the guy, but he is one of the funniest people I've read so far. And he's from South Jersey.

I'm only up to the October archives, but I'd like to quote some of my favorite lines:

"She informed me that in order to see if a boy is dateable the first thing every girl looks at are his shoes (to make sure they are "cool"), his jeans (to make sure they are not from the gap) and his watch (to make sure it is expensive)."

[Editors note: I look at watches too. I'm sort of an IJC at times ... but my boyfriend wears Gap jeans.]

"One of my buddies is from staten island. he's jewish. he went to an ivy league school (a real ivy, not upenn) ... he also happens to be considered by most of my friends to be one of the most offensive people in new york city. yet we all love him."

[Editor's note: My boyfriend has competition. Except my boyfriend is from Tenafly.]

"I don’t care if you can make millions doing that, no girl from long island is bringing home a guy who catches fish for a living."

[Editor's note: Greatest line. Ever.]

"The next three weeks were the only time in my adult life that i've ever dated a girl who i actually enjoyed spending time with and was attracted to at the same time."

[Editor's note: I can totally relate. And I am a girl.]

"Jdate is just as bad as you might think...and maybe worse. the girls are overwhelmingly mediocre, mostly under 5'4" ... "

[Editor's note: Is there something wrong with being under 5'4?? I better not get fat ever. Short and fat is just a horrible way to be. I would never date again.]

The Jewish Way in Dating

The New York Times had an article today about non-Jews who join JDate because they want to meet "nice Jewish boys and girls."

For all my anti-religion rantings lately, I still feel pretty strongly about marrying another Jew. Because I realized -- on the subway, of course, where some of my best thinking gets done -- that religious traditions really are beautiful, and the trouble only comes in when one group insists that its traditions are more beautiful than any other.

And because my reading habits have changed. After hearing the same thing from several people, I finally started reading The Plot Against America. So I moved from Dostoevsky and Maugham to Philip Roth.

As for JDate, it's hours of entertainment. My friends and I love finding people we know. Sometimes I even find someone I might actually want to date (a doctor! a sushi lover! a mensch!)

Update: This is not to say I want to get married anytime soon. I mean, consider the awful thing my boyfriend told me ... at my birthday dinner nonetheless. He said, "I'm getting older, and I'm not getting any better looking. So I was thinking I might as well stick with you." Excuse me? Say that again? Some guys get better with age. Why would I stick with you?? And more importantly, nothing says I love you like "you're the best I can do."

Bigger Me

I started thinking today about why I have this silly website in the first place. Or why I didn't decide to post commentary about pop culture, or politics, or celebrity gossip. Or about something completely inane like cooking (OK, I know why I don't write about cooking ...)

I never really meant to get too personal. The inspiration for this blog was one of my senior year TAs, who said that the first three years out of the college will likely be the worst three years of your life. And didn't I know it. Every person I spoke to (all four of them) when I was living in the middle of nowhere, South Jersey, afraid that I would be stuck writing about retinitis pigmentosa forever (instead of 11-months) ... every person I spoke to said the same thing. This sucks, and I'm scared. I'm gambling too much, I'm drinking too much, I'm watching too much TV, I hate my job, and why oh why did I ever think I could handle the real world?

And, granted, I took some creative license. (No one knows about that more than the boyfriend, who would call me up after almost every post and grumble, "so I was reading your blog ..." And I'd yell at him to stop stifling my creativity.)

Sure, I could have kept a journal. Only now it was much cooler because the boyfriend bought me a digital camera and I was learning about photography. And I taught myself how to manipulate HTML codes (with not a shred of help from said boyfriend, who is getting a PhD in this computer stuff, because he wanted me to teach me about self-sufficiency.)

And I'm pretty proud of my newfound self-sufficient-ness, if I do say so myself. Maybe I've even outgrown my silly little website.

Today is my 23rd birthday, and I am writing a manifesto. Typical.

Forward Looking Statements

From now on, all future posts will be about my fish, Flippy, Dippy and Skippy. Enjoy!