WANTED...

After dealing with total hell thanks to a computer virus and a defunct modem, I realized that the best date that I have had in a while was with Kel, the computer tech in India via Dell Technical Support. Sad but true, after 4 hours on the phone, I felt a connection, he could feel my pain, and was not only eager but willing to assist me. What more could a girl want, right? Except many a man in NYC instead of India? As I am throwing a tantrum and feeling utterly helpless, surrounded by a box that may the router or may be the modem, I start thinking of the perfect want ad...

A man who knows how to scan my computer and keep it from getting every bad virus know to man, despite the fact that I hardly ever use the damn thing.

A man who knows how to use my drill, and figure out how to secure the molly's, because despite my trying, I can't.

A man with who can handle my freak outs when I am sitting on the floor frustrated with tools all around me and a headache from trying to get an understanding of things that I have no idea about.

A man who is not going to remind me how easy these tasks are.

After thinking about how I should find a man who can do this all for me, I remember the sweet broken English of my man Kel, and my own capabilities. Despite the fact that I lost many hours of my life, which I can never get back, I took care of my business, and didn't need a man to do it for me! Besides Kel that is. So at the end of the day, I am working hard to want myself, and all that I know I am capable of! After all, do I really need to know the difference between a modem or a router?

Poppa

My grandfather is 93 years old. Most of the time, he can't hear anything. Our conversations include how's my apartment, how's my job, and the Red Sox or Patriots (depending on the season). However this weekend, while I was home, for the first time in six months, he switched the conversation up, to something I could have never expected.

He started off with the regular discussion, and I scream him my responses, expecting him to hear about half of what I am saying. Switching it up, he asks me if I have made any friends since moving back to New York. I tell him about the great group of friends I have in my life, thankfully. He probes further, "any special friends?"

I blush. Is this conversation really happening? I tell him that I am dating again, but no one special. He says he heard something from my aunt about a doctor. "What has happened with that?" Further embarrassment! Yea, that didn't work out. He continues to share just how happy that I am "getting back out there." Letting me know that he has no doubt I will meet that special someone and soon!

Really interested in continuing the conversation, he asks about the dates. Where they are from? If they are Jewish? What they do for work? He tells me that he would happy with anything and anyone I bring home. So long as I don't bring home a Black man. That, he tells me, he just won't tolerate!

"Could you do that for me Tootsie?"

What do you say to that? The man is 93 years old. Sure, Poppa, I'll try my best...

Compliments

I've never been very good with compliments. I need to learn to be gracious and appreciate these gems, and am beginning to think I have an idea as to why this is so challenging for me.

In my line of work, I meet a motley crew of individuals who have always have a comment or two towards me, most are not very kind, however, every so often, I get blown away - as I did today.

I get a frantic call from an intoxicated patient in crisis. As he is telling me the unfortunate things he plans to do to himself, I keep him on the phone until help arrives. He tells me how smart he is, how powerful he is, and he plans to leave his fiance. He asks if we can go to dinner, if we can be friends? He tells me that I am "very sane and very good looking." As he is being taken away by men in white coats, so to speak, his fiance is cursing at him and he is screaming my name, wistfully asking me to "come visit him."

Is it sad that this is the best compliment I have gotten in a while? And maybe even worse that I was flattered?

What to do when they don't get the hint and you can't stop...

I have a dilemma of sorts. A few weeks ago, a recent ex resurfaced. He calls me after breaking up with me over the holidays, becuase of our different religions. Completely floored, I'm wondering, "What could he possibly want?" After all, it's not like in the past five months I have changed religions. He tells me that he acted prematurely, that he missed me, and realized how great I was, which I translate to there were no other girls as great as me...

We meet up. MISTAKE. Make an even bigger mistake. REGRET. I tell him there is no need for him to be in my life, after all, I didn't really like him all that much during the time we dated. He was comfortable, reliable, dependable, and gives me the attention I crave.

He didn't enjoy this conversation, stating his disagreement with my feelings, but told he me will respect my wishes. That lasted two weeks. I'm still getting calls, texts, and emails. The unfortunate thing is, that I can't seem to shut this guy off. I keep engaging! Why can't he just get the hint, because with the draught I am in, the attention is warmer than the May weather and I'm a sucker for the sunshine...

The importance of details...

My father has always told me that I need to pay better attention to things. It's true, I tend to be impulsive and overlook the details. What can I say...

This point needs to be revisited after I receive an email from my parents, sharing that a friend of their friend's son is recently divorced and new to the city, stating that we should totally meet up. They forward me along the email from their friend, stating how nice this man is, recently divorced after a "short marriage". He is "kind, funny, good looking, and has a good job". Since I like an adventure, I allow my parents to send along my email to this guy. How bad could it be?

As I share my potential bad decision with my sister, reading her the email that was forwarded along to me, I realize, there's more! Seriously, no attention to detail! I read the email that was sent from my parent's friend to this guy, where they tell him the following...

I have a friend who has a daughter who lives in NYC. She broke up with her fiance 3 weeks before the wedding. She moved to NY from Miami but grew up in Rhode Island. She is 30 years old, quite beautiful and 5'10. She is in some sort of social work and is Jewish. Would you be interested in meeting her?

Glad to know that I am quite beautiful, but really, is knowing that my fiance and I broke up three weeks before the wedding really a selling point? Not sure if I have to just pay more attention to details before making decisions or further instruct others to leave the gory details out.

The Gun in the Underwear Drawer

Its something when the date that you are on ends like a Game of Clue...

I met a Federal Agent, and from the get go, I'm thinking hot. My imagination brings me to this guy that, in my head, will be very exciting, totally sexy, and Bond like. Reality of course brings something different and not nearly as exciting. Still the night is interesting, to say the very least. I mean, the five plus drinks help too.

As I stumble back to my apartment, after the federal agent showed me that he was packing heat, I am made aware that he "is going to need to hide his piece." Makes sense after all, we are both intoxicated, and how does he know I'm sane. Really, there is so much smart decision making going on at this point.

As the alcohol gets the best of me, I retire to bed, alone. It is at this time that the Federal Agent reveals the gun has been hidden in my underwear drawer. Obviously!

Birthdays

So there is something about birthdays that lead us to regress back to childish antics. I think we tend to over look that time continues to pass and hope that with a tiara and ridiculous amounts of cupcakes (and by cupcakes I mean alcohol), we can actually reverse the aging process. I do believe it works, that is until the hangover sets in.

As I celebrated a friends birthday this weekend - the scene was set. There was 80s music, a comedy club, an overly confident birthday girl, fights, pissed neighbors, and ultimately, for the birthday girl, vomit in her sink. Ick!

As I paraded through the streets of the Upper East Side, with three boys in tow, I actually believed I was back in college, seeing myself strolling through the streets of DC, heading towards the dorm. As I pound on my friend's apartment door to return her brother and a random Swedish man, I feel empowered and totally in control, like only a confident college girl can. What I am overlooking is the fact that my shirt is drenched in beer, I am being followed by a man whose shirt could fit my 6 year old niece. And its 5:00am.

Waking up after only two hours of sleep, with make-up smeared on face and a foggy recollection of the night's events, I realize that it was a mere illusion, fueled by a mix of vodka and Bud Light. I am in fact thirty, and can't hang like I used to. It was fun while it lasted and that's got to count for something! In reality,however, I am still drunk and popping Advil and Pepcid.