Effing BOYS!

There have been so many things to blog about these last few weeks, I've been overwhelmed. I'll try a systematic approach over the next few days.

The other day, as I headed into a french bakery to buy some sinful, overpriced spread, a man walking by (who was not going into the store) opened the door for me. I was so pleasantly shocked that I made eye contact with this doughy, Midwestern, 30-something and thanked him, expressing my surprise. After asking me to repeat what I'd said, he nodded his head vigorously, smiling a little maniacally as he followed me into the vestibule. "You don't meet many guys like me in New York!" I managed to shake him by making a beeline for the hazelnut spread. You mean crazies? I beg to differ. That's what I get for engaging.

Last week I ran into a man I have a mad crush on. He's a wildly successful actor who is on tour with something and was back in town for a few days to, ya know, sit in on rehearsals for the play he wrote that's currently in rehearsal. After giving me an update, he asked about me. I explained I wasn't really acting much, mostly doing a lot of massage. "Well," he responded, "it could be worse. At least you're not homeless!" What? So, since I'm not homeless...I'm not allowed to mention that I'm not acting? I am not a whiner about my lack of career activity (at least, not lately, and definitely not with people I barely know and am trying to hypnotize into asking me out); I actually wasn't even freaking out about it at the time, I was very matter of fact. Does my lack of career make you uncomfortable? Are you serious? Dammit!

Today I met Julie for lunch. We went to the Cosi by Union Square, hotbed of NYU students and random officeworkers. Snagging a table by a handsome grad student working on his laptop, I noticed an interested picture on the hardback book sitting, next to him...a papaya cut in half. Hmm. Later, after he went to get his drink, I noted the title - She Comes First: The Thinking Man's Guide to Pleasuring a Woman. Oy. Wow, he was so cute a moment before. That book (conspicuously placed, cover up) was not touched once the entire hour I was there, and he was checking his email the whole time. This was one smooth operator...it was all a calculated setup to attract the babes. I am sorry, I'm really not comfortable using cunnilingus as an opener for chit-chat. It would be like saying, "Cute shirt! (giggle)" to a guy wearing a tee touting Free Mustache Rides.

The man of my dreams continues to elude me.

In other news: Sky Still Blue.