Adopt ME!~

I've decided to get a cat. Because I need something to love. And I'm tired of talking to myself. And I like warm, furry creatures.
After hours of perusing cat 'personal ads' on Petfinder.com, I'm tempted write one for myself. Maybe I'll start a Girlfriendfinder.com or Loverfinder.com for all of us stray humans who need to be adopted and loved too!
Here's my ad:

This adorable, affectionate redhead is looking for her forever love.

Violeta was found living a hand-to-mouth existence in a rough neighborhood in Brooklyn, spending too much time in bars and on OKCupid - dating one NYC dickwad after another. Though she has mild PTSD from years of dealing with non committal guys (who used her for her body and superior skills in the boudoir), once you gain her trust she'll be a loyal and loving companion.
If you decide to share your home with her she'll greet you with a warm smile, inane chatter and endless BJs (dream on)to show you her appreciation.

Though Violeta is friendly and plays well with others she prefers to be the only lady of the house - no polyamorous looney toons, nor cheating bastards need apply.

She's negative for all STD's, is tattooed and has had her rabies shots. Don't even think of microchipping her!

Please be gainfully employed, provide at least 3 references and an adoption fee of 30,000 cash. A mandatory home visit will be scheduled beforehand.

A Terrible Shiny Thing

The dowdy little houses with sandpaper flapping at their shabby seams hardly elicit a flick of emotion in me. I who was once of the country, who knew the shabbiness of rural poverty, the claustrophobia of the dark gathering woods, the small squalid towns with their provincial ways frowning upon any divergence from the most unremarkable mediocrity. The eyes of the locals regarding any newcomer with a dull and unimpassioned hostility. I feel my own transition from this world of fields and streams, of ponds full of silvery fish, ragged marshes and the rustle of leaves in the wind - to an anxious urbanite - a biting, jagged edge barely concealed beneath a bright surface. Impatient, overly hungry with a trace of bitterness revealed in the tight gathers at the corners of my lips. The swell of people in the cities - of every imaginable color, shape, scent and class - each inscrutable face sealing a chamber of alluring secrets. Wild creatures in their natural habitat of concrete and steel, flashing across the edifices of buildings like shining birds fluttering through the trees. The soft dark eyes and damp skin of exotic men beckons on swarming streets and crowded subway cars. Evenings like these - the heavy limpid air, vaguely unclean, presses upon bare shoulders and fawns over my body like a warm, overly close breath. It is here that I make my home now, here that my soul feels itself liberated, that the infinite possibilities of a strange and exciting future unravel in my head. But its here too that my solitary, scant existence among this vociferous bounty weighs upon me, a close companion though out hot, humid summer nights when I toss on my cheap sheets cursing the futility of my existence. There can be no refuge in this world that is not merely a sweet tang of temporary relief amid the trudging onward of our lives.

Players' Club

If only I could get him out of my head. And what an ugly mess this has all become. I suppose it was inevitable considering neither one of us is exactly mild mannered, conventional or even sane, for that matter… When I told him I loved him I didn’t expect to be accused of being manipulative. And how I shriveled inside when he said definitively “I’m not going to fall in love with you before I leave.” I know it was crazy to let myself feel this way when he’s going back to Serbia for good. Maybe I was indulging my own emotions, letting them run free because I knew he was leaving anyway and it could never go anywhere. Was I being selfish and irresponsible? But after months of these games, I’m exhausted – him telling me he loved me countless times - was it for real? I saw him lose himself with me; I saw those naked looks in his eyes, felt his tenderness and his desire.
I was furious, how dare he toy with me, swatting away my feelings as if they meant nothing! The truth is few men catch at my heart, few men captivate me, excite me. Its been years since a man has evoked these feelings in me. Then I saw that book The Game, some hideous players' handbook lying on his bed. Was he playing some cruel trick on me? Manipulating me for his own ego gratification? He lay in bed, staring at me with those intense eyes, the blue-grey eyes I cannot get out of my head. I wordlessly picked the book up, meeting his gaze with mine - raw, angry, hurt - and tore the cover to pieces. Then I took my things and left. I doubt I’ll ever see him again. But I have to reclaim my heart.

Unbelievable!

Hakim called me tonight. He asked me if I was still single. I told him I was. He was like "Oh well you must not want a boyfriend." As if it were that easy...

When I politely inquired as to how things were going with him and his ex wife he said, "Ohhhh good. Well, she is weak like all women but its OK..." I was like, "Oh excuse me, what did you say - women are weak?!" Hakim: "Oh yeah women are weak in the brain, you too habibati." When I asked him WHY women were weak he said, "Well god made them that way." Hmmmmmm. Interesting. So then I asked him, "So how did God make men?" To which he replied, "God made men assholes."
Ha ha ha!!!! He really is too much! I was dying.
I prompted him, "Oh really, so its God's fault men are are assholes?" Then he said, "Well God made some men assholes and women turned some men into assholes."
Huh. So women are not only WEAK but also partially to blame for why MEN ARE ASSHOLES! Got it.

Then he asked me, "How is your shape?"
"My shape?" WTF?! "Well", I reminded him, "you once told me that I should go to the gym instead of spending so much time hanging out with my roommate." (He was insecure about me living with two guys.)
He was like, "Oh well your shape has always been very good. I must have been drunk or stoned if I said that."
WOW.

I'm not even pissed. I'm fascinated. I just can't believe the things that come out of this guy's mouth.
Hilarious!

One Night in NY

Is New York is the most beautiful city in the world? It is not far from it. No urban night is like the night there... Squares after squares of flame, set up and cut into the aether. Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will.
-Ezra Pound

Its not all agony and loneliness here. Sometimes I actually have fun!

Last night was a good night. I started out meeting a guy for happy hour at a bar in the East Village. As soon I walked in two drunk Irish guys started chatting with me. One was like ‘You look like an old-fashioned model from the 50’s, you’re so pretty.’ That made me smile.

I was meeting C at the bar for the first time. We’d been chatting online for a couple weeks but hadn’t met in person. We were cloistered in a dark corner talking. In our corner we met a crazy Taiwanese girl who grew up in the South, with a weird mixed Taiwanese/Southern accent, who worked in fashion. She was drunk and hilarious and was practically sitting on my lap, telling me all about breaking up with her ex boyfriend, how bored she was in NY, asking what should she do with her life?! Then a bunch of Thai guys who grew up in NYC met her and started smoking pot in front of the bar. They were the friendliest guys ever. Everyone agreed that people are nicer in NY than San Francisco. One of the guys said, ‘In New York you can go out to a bar and meet anybody. Anyone will talk to you.’ It was true; the Irish guys kept coming by and high fiving the guy I was on a date with because he had a vintage Liverpool soccer jersey on (he lived in England for a year). One guy was trying to buy it off his back. C was opening up to me about old girlfriends, living in Spain, traveling, growing up in NYC, his Brazilian mom. He seemed like a sweet guy and he was a good kisser. Later he walked me back to the subway. I fell down laughing into a snow bank. People were out everywhere in the snow, it was Friday night and everyone seemed to be smiling, guarding a secret inner joy. C said, ‘This is the best first date ever!’.

Even though I left C, I wasn’t ready to go home yet. The other night I’d met a very handsome chef, Lou, at a non profit fundraising event I was working at. He’s from the Bronx with a sexy New York accent and a hilarious sense of humor. I was immediately into him. I was dying for him to call. He had called me earlier in the night saying he wanted to hang out when he got off work if I was still out.

At 11:30 Lou called again saying he was off work and he could come meet me. I was eating pizza by myself in Union Square after leaving C. I gave him a huge hug when he showed up. I don’t know what it was about this guy but I was really into him! We ended up in some dive bar full of drunk NYU students dancing to 80’s music. I kept sucking down vodka sodas. Not such a good idea but I was so excited to be out and hanging out with this guy. There was just one BIG problem though. Turns out he has a girlfriend. I asked him point blank after he told me he had a big two bedroom uptown. A sane person would have probably gone home at that point. Unfortunately, I’m not sane.

Lou said he liked me immediately when he met me and since I told him I was new in town he thought we could hang out as friends. I was like ‘Yeah, that’s a nice idea but I kind of LIKE you.’ Then he said, ‘I’m not gonna lie, I think you are very beautiful.’ Great. In theory it would be nice to have him as a friend but I don’t quite understand how that will work if we are both attracted to each other. Shit! I started telling him how I was a good woman and how I deserved to meet a nice single guy who was really into me, blah, blah blah, I was really drunk at that point. I should have just shut up and gone home. He told me he fought in the Serbian war (he was born in Albania) and I asked him, ‘So did you kill anybody?’ He was like, ‘Violeta you aren’t supposed to ask questions like that. What do you think?’ Somehow that made him even hotter. God, he was really, really sexy.

Anyway, he ended up driving me home. We got lost in Queens in a snarl of dead end roads full of snow and abandoned factories. I was smoking with the window down, babbling about the history of exploitation of workers in New York City and demanding that he treat his kitchen staff nicely. What a mess. But the Queensborough Bridge was all lit up in a brilliant blue haze and Manhattan was gleaming across the river and the cold air felt good on my face. I was finally feeling like I had arrived here in New York City. Even if my life was just one big giant, confusing, lonely morass - at least I was somewhere different.

I gave L a hug, his body felt really good; big, strong and comforting. I miss being in man’s arms so bad. But he’s not mine so I sent him home.