Moving out of the darkness into the light

Depression cripples you… it’s like this dark secret you hide deep within, but it’s always there in the shadows lurking and pulling you back with a few whispers… “You’re worthless… you’ll never amount to anything… come back inside this shell with me… no one cares for you out there…you’re all alone!”

It always appears like a fog creeping in overnight and there is a crow making noise reminding you that you belong with them in the darkness… far from the light. The emptiness inside your soul, bones, mind and heart creates pools of tears at the drop of a hat to slide down your face…without notice, you’re pulled back into the abyss of familiarity that you once climbed far away from.

Yes…. I have a history of depression or just being sad…anxiety. Maybe it’s because we moved around so much in my childhood and I was always forced to reinvent myself, new friends, new life, and all during my high school years.

I remember my earliest memories in my early teens and my wanting to get lost in a sea of sleep. I just couldn’t get myself out of the feeling of melancholy and sadness that would overcome me like shackles…I carried the weight with me for years. Who knew then, that this would be a lifelong battle with periods of desperation and times that were so low, it’s miraculous that you made it out alive.

Well, my old nemesis that is Depression has shown its ugly head again over the past few years.

When things were not going well in my life, financial issues, when my apartment caught fire, or the ceiling caved in and I had to move quickly, or the time that I lost my love, or I was in so much pain that I ended up needing surgery on my spine…the other time I lost my love, plus the struggle of recovery to the time that I lost my job with no severance and lost my insurance 60 days post surgery. I’ve lost so much over the past few years…my house, jobs, pets, loves and have literally had to abandon things and walk away just enough to survive the flames called my life without getting burned up myself.

My challenges with depression have been a lifelong struggle. They go in waves, but lately and especially this year, it’s been severe with every hurdle, every path that I take is a journey on survival.

This was also why I went dark over the past few years and stopped writing… hiding the words and avoiding the voice inside me begging to come out.

There was a time that I wished that I would be able to fall asleep and wake up with all of this washed away. Then there are other times that would hold onto this like a long lost friend.

Lately, everything is better when it’s time to go to bed…I hate waking up and struggling with my plans for the day, reading my emails, applying for jobs, scheduling interviews, then seeing my bank account and knowing my best bet is to stay in bed.

My wish is to regain myself in 2018, get back to my core being, better health, heal my body, listen more, help more, be kinder, better, go to yoga more, date more, explore more, Love more and travel more. Let go of the things that are not serving me well and be more of a minimalist in some ways. Life isn’t about things…it about the moments.

Every day is a struggle, people are fighting silent battles all around you and in the end, try to be kind and be grateful for the people in your life that are there to help.

When you’re at you are feeling close to rock bottom, you’ll find out who your true support system is. These are The keepers… friends and family. Without them right now, I would be lost. I’m at my most vulnerable and am grateful every day that they haven’t given up on me yet.

I am so thankful that I have my family and friends in my life. With the holiday season upon us, they’re bringing in the light to my life right now.

Xx

What happened to having a drink first?

What the fuck goes through men’s heads when they reach out on LinkedIn with a perverted comment about your photo and or try to ask you out? I know that I’ve asked this before, but seriously? And…. with time, it’s only gotten worse. I get messages on Instagram from random people and I’m no innocent, as I’m online dating on Tinder, Bumble etc., but I expect to receive messages there. Not sure that I expect some of the ones that I receive though about oral sex, 3 ways, and if I want to join in their poly lifestyle.

The Internet has created a marketplace for passive aggressive men that would not typically approach a woman like this in person. I don’t know if it’s that’s they’re more brazen and bold hiding behind the internet, but whatever the case, it’s getting worse. I get on average 2-3 messages on LinkedIn and then, Instagram has become a new playing field and then there are the randoms that will use your Airdrop from Apple to send random dick pics to your phone on the subway or in public just because they can. Lol. I keep that locked down after hearing about this new tactic.

Remember when someone would write a bad check and the check would be hung up for everyone to see In the market and they were shamed? This was a response to hoping that the person would not only be deterred from his behavior, but also not do it again, right? I’m thinking perhaps this behavior being called out may help some realize how ridiculous it is.

I have an Instagram account and receive no less that several unsolicited messages from men starting by saying, “Hello” … or telling me that they saw me on either Tinder or Bumble and since I did not match with them, they wanted to reach out to me anyway and see if I could meet them!? Umm… First, I swiped left, which means that I’m not interested, but “Thank You” for your persistence, but please leave it there… instead, they push it to asking me for photos, about sex, commenting about my body, and my favorite is receiving dick pics this way… Umm… Look men, no one wants to see your dick pictures. No one… and if you send these to us… unsolicited, we have the right to share them with our friends. Ha-ha…and I do.

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With all the harassment and misbehavior taking place and men being outed, I think that we have tended to shuffle this behavior under the mat for decades, as it was typically not managed well. I believe that we are at a Tipping point right now where women are coming forward to exploit these men of their actions because we are just exhausted of being treated like sex objects, getting paid less for the same work, being ridiculed and we are supposed to be your equal, yet why are people only now listening? I don’t know, but I’m grateful that they are.

Personally, I’ve been sexually harassed my entire life… I can still tell you stories of being held down and felt up by boys on my swim team that I once thought were friends… they each took turns and then, acted like nothing happened. I think this was the way I lost my innocence with men and reacted by calling them out and probably used some fine words… it continued throughout my life. Sometimes in ways that were worse than others… I’ve been solicited by men in the workplace dozens of times in my life, most were executives.  Believe me, I can say, “Fuck Off” faster than most.

I was asking my guy friend the better place for online dating where men are actually looking to date vs. fuck and he just laughed at me… I was wondering his opinion on Tinder, Bumble, OKC, POF, Match and etc. He goes… “Umm… I get more ass from Bumble”… I was shocked.. I thought Bumble was the upgrade to Tinder? What did I know? I met K on Tinder and we still talk and see one another…who knows. Everyone that reaches out to me ends up being a perv eventually.

With this, I would like to share some of my wall of shame….There are several more where these came from…and I may just keep sharing them, as I have that many.

What happened to asking a girl out to drink and trying to feign interest? Then after a few drinks, acting like a pervert trying to hook up? Now, they go straight for the jugular and ask if you’re “DTF”- Which Apparently means, “Down to Fuck”… or into a 3 way.. or just tell you how they want to lick and eat your ass…Thanks for the romance boys, does option b come with flowers?

When people wonder why I keep going back to “The Boy”… well, these are just a few examples.

Enjoy!

He gave me butterflies & made my heart race

He gave me butterflies from the first time that I set my eyes on him… I think that I always knew he was going to be trouble, how you know in your gut that I was going to love every second spent with him.

After some back and forth, a few phone calls and some photos traded, we decided to meet for a drink. It was only fitting, since he was my neighbor living only 2 blocks away.  We decided to meet after his event/my dinner plans later that night. I’m typically not one for these meetings, I like to have dates and well, I was nervous that he was just a fuckboy seeking all of the wrong things, but perhaps this wouldn’t be a bad thing for a night… or three.

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He not only looked like his photos, but was better in person. This tall, dark and handsome man had a smirk and the way that he looked at me was completely disarming. After a drink or two, we went back to my place…the whole night, I was hot and cold on how I felt about him. He pushed my limits, was very respectful, but there was something about this guy…and we talked for what seemed like hours. I didn’t think that I’d ever see him again… He felt like a Fuckboy and I wanted to kiss every inch of him. I had not felt like this in a very long time…

Here I am in my 40’s, curvy, and this 33-year-old successful, smart and hot younger guy was with me? What is he thinking? Yeah… my only conclusion…, Fuckboy.

I remember kissing him goodbye that first night and sending him on his way with a smile. I never thought that I would see him again.

The next night I met up with a girlfriend for happy hour, dinner and some much-needed girl time. We were exchanging dating stories about the men we’d been seeing, and I had downloaded all of the details about him, our night and well, the glow and smile on my face was already giving me away. Hell, I was glowing after that night.

As we began to play with Snapchat filters and then, my phone starts blowing up…. It’s him. I remember feeling butterflies, and being so nervous…my heart was racing just replying to this man. He was asking if we could get together… he was on his way back up east… Next thing you know, I am in a taxi home… he arrives with 2 Bottles of wine and a bottle of Veuve. A man after my own heart… I love my wine.

After another amazing night, we ended up spending the next week together non-stop, when he went to Boston with friends… he even called and talked with me all night long and as soon as he was back home, he was at my side. I was beginning my new job soon, so my nights were filled with him and days on getting the much-needed rest, as well as preparing to start my new role.

Even when either was out late, he would come slip into bed with me in the cold weather and cuddle until dawn and we would part… after a while, we had a routine, and after a few weeks, I had to implement some rules and a curfew. Although I loved having him over, a girl at my age needs some sleep.

This went on for over a month…. and then, he went dark. Nothing…No replies….he disappeared. My heart was crushed… had I caught feelings for this man? We did meet on Tinder, so what was I thinking would happen?

After a week, he reappeared with an apology and told me, “I’m sorry…. I sometimes do this to friends and they know, but I regret doing that to you.”

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That made my heart melt…He returned…we continued as we were…. Seeing each other 2 to 3 nights a week for the next few months. Things finally came to the point where we both were together so much, but still able to date other people… so, I finally asked if he was seeing anyone else or what we were doing… He goes… “I’m not seeing anyone, but you right now. I think that we should see other people either together or apart still though and just be honest about it. “

This was when I started realizing that this needed to lighten up, pull back on the number of nights that we were together, and I needed to try dating multiple people…After all, he is 33 years old, still lives with roommates, a strict bachelor lifestyle and I’ve flat out refused to come to his place. I justified this to myself, as I needed to let him be himself… a 33year old single man, and if he wanted to be with me… it would have to be his choice.

At this point, I started dating other people and accidentally texted him thinking it was a friend that I had a date and he replied faster than I could blink with, “You go girl!” … I was mortified.

As things go… he pulled away, I pulled away and yet, we still saw one another one to two nights a week on average. We had some of the most amazing times together and this went on the have some hilarious types of scenarios together, but we stopped talking as much as we once had… I eventually started dating other people, and there was one guy that I will explain, but we were better as close friends and so, I kept seeing The Boy and told him everything about my dating the Banker… and one night, when we were laying together talking… he told me that, “I could date anyone that I wanted, but he was never going to leave me. He would always be around in my life.”

Over the next year, we ended up having periods of time where things were more serious and others where we managed to see one another if not weekly, every other week a few times. I woke up on Christmas morning with him, we boarded ourselves into my apartment during a blizzard together, and other times…it was just a drink. I won’t lie that he held my heart at times, but it was very casual between us. There were times between that we would get very intense for a few weeks, then take a break for a week or two… always in cycles. We were the same, yet different. He lived with 2 roommates and still lived the bachelors life with them. I refused to come to his apartment unless he was sick and needed me, which he would always tell me after the fact.

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I always had to remember he was also in the lifestyle of going out all the time… I had myself become more of a homebody in the past few years, preferring a bottle of wine and the sofa to a lounge that was loud and crowded. This is where the age difference would come into play.

On or around the year anniversary, we shared some Veuve and had an amazing evening…then, things went back to normal…. when we were together, we spoke our own language and no one else would understand it. At times, he would be hot and cold, but there were more discussions around plans, etc.

By late May, things went on as usual… even with some late-night talks about our feelings for one another…giving into the admissions that neither was good with feelings.

After Memorial Day, when I got uncomfortable with pain, he disappeared. He went dark without any communication, no words, just silence. Nothing hurts more than this.

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I imagined somewhere inside of him there was the man that I had spent all that time with… so, as I had news on my illness, I would text him to let him know… never received a reply until the day before my surgery… He wished me, “Good Luck and apologized for going dark and was sorry that I was going through this.”

I was heartbroken that he’d done this to me.

About 60 days post-surgery, I nearly had a heart attack when he texted me to see how I was doing. My heart was racing, my body was a mess and I replied… He asked to stop by. It was probably the most awkward time that we have ever had together… He was only here for about 20 minutes and we just talked small talk… he was assessing me and by this time, I’d already taken a muscle relaxer and was ready to go to bed. Alone.  When he left…he kissed me and said, “I’ll see you again soon.”

I never thought that I would see him again and I was at peace finally with it, but the heart wants what it wants, and I’ve decided that I don’t really think that we have much choice in the matter. There are people in your life that you connect with, really connect with and he and I were that. He was to me more than I had ever thought he would be…there was a level of need at times, he fulfilled parts of me that I never imagined, yet broke me in every way at the same time.

He waited almost a month before contacting me and as fate would have it, I had a tough day and had been drinking … he was out with colleagues in midtown and asked to stop by, and explained that he had a curfew and would not be able to stay but about 15 minutes. Haha…

As soon as the door opened, he saw me and pulled me close to him and kissed me… he didn’t leave until he had to go home to get ready for work that next morning. We stayed up talking about everything… he kept trying to explain why he went dark, apologized and instead of fighting… I just let him get it out and was grateful to have him back in my life. Late at night when we are laying together talking…he reminds me that I am his…he tells me that he owns me,…body, soul, heart and mind. and I don’t disagree. I just smile and tell him that he is mine too.

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He’s back in my life, but we’ve made some changes… I have promised to come to him more and finally met his roommates, and we have been around a few other people, which is weird. Everyone that sees us together says that we really “have something or a strong connection” because we are in our own world when together… I’m not sure where it is going, but I’m not forcing anything…and I am finally learning to just let things happen. While laying in bed, I did grab his balls in my hand, while looking into his eyes and told him if he ever ghosts me again, I’ll come find him. He’s promised he won’t, so here’s to hoping.

Somehow this man has slipped under my skin, invaded my blood and seized my heart.

I’m still trying to meet other people, as I need more than he can offer, but for now, he’s mine and I am his.

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The Boy…

The Boy

He was the first one to write… we both swiped right on one another… flirted back and forth… established where we both lived compared to each other…. Then, he vanished…like people do.

The next was a playful Ivy league graduate in Mathematics, soccer player, worked for his own Investment firm…very cute. He was about  9 years younger or less…We flirted back and forth, then he asked me out. We went on a few dates and all of which, he was a complete gentleman… after a few nights of drinks, banter and not even a single kiss… I kind of wrote him off. After days of silence, he started texting me again… flirting…. explaining he was courting me… so the affair begins… He was definitely responsible for getting my groove back… it was like delivery. All I had to do was text him and he came running over…sometimes bringing wine with him.

He even met me after a flight home… wished me a happy birthday, and you ask, “what happened to him?”  He ended up going on a series of trips and one of them was over a month gone… with this, I ended up answering other men… and well, things happen for a reason…

This is where, “The Boy” entered my life… he’s 10 years younger than me.

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The fountain of youth…

Where to begin…. I’m still single, so the long-distance thing never worked out…as it never really does, does it? Now, after sharing so much of yourself with someone and dreams, hopes, and experiences… then, it just disappears…evaporates and you’re strangers again. I ended up giving up dating for a while…I believe that I went almost 2 years without intimacy or any kind of romance in my life, other than some random dates that were less satisfying than a hot bath and glass of wine.

 

I have tried to build out a career, where I thought that I had one, but in the end…that didn’t work out as planned either, yet then I will become one of those people quoting cliché’s… “Everything happens for a reason”, “Another fish in the Sea or Plenty of fish in the sea”, “Just when you stop looking…love finds you”… it’s like finding a fucking apartment in New York City.. That shit doesn’t happen easily, and it doesn’t happen without investment… like 3 months’ rent or approximately $15-20K USD. Lol. Don’t get too excited…that doesn’t include the broker fee or moving costs.

I literally had so many bad dates that I will highlight in time, I met an old colleague out for drinks and she enlightened me on her success with online dating and Tinder. So, I begin….

After several glasses of wine and tapas… the conversation moved to the new adventures of dating… We had both had bad experiences with men our own age and older, but after our storytelling… I explained… how I was literally made to feel guilty for being from one man our age because he had erectile dysfunction… he turned it around to acting like I was some sex hungry slut and if you know anything about me, well… I don’t put up with this shit…I hit back and below the belt and managed to pull out a PowerPoint quickly in my head on his inadequacies, yet explained that I dated him anyway…by this point, I knew there was no coming back. He had treated me with such ugliness to have me come back that I was beyond consoling… Then, I’d met another man my age that decided to lie about his being married, another who completely was lying about living locally and managed to tell me later it took him 4 hours to get home to Boston, as he thought that I was going to let him stay over??!?! WTF.

After these stories, she recommended that I get over the whole issue that I had with dating younger men and open my search criteria to 10 years younger and 10 years older. Me, dating younger men? Jesus, did these men really want to meet an older woman?

So, after a bottle or three of wine, I changed my Tinder settings and on the Uber ride home…. I had a series of matches with very attractive, educated men… all 10 years younger… all flirting with me….

 

Could this be the solution to my dating dilemmas? Forget the crotchety older men with families, issues and that were resentful for the uninhibited younger men that are still enjoying their lives?  J

Let the fun begin… My journey to dating younger men…..does this mean that I’m a Cougar? Meow… :

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What am I doing?



Have you ever been in a long distance relationship? There are twists, turns, emotions, sadness, excitement and heightened feelings and emotions, as you try to fit everything into a small amount of time. 

You’re partner is like a dealer of love or attention, and when they pull away or don’t lend that same attention or feeling to you…you want it more. It’s a sick game that your mind plays on you, as you slip from being that once confident person to becoming the one lying on the bathroom floor or laying in an empty be night after night going over every detail to try to figure out just when you stopped being the one and turned into that pathetic, needy version of yourself. 

I’m not that person, but I can tell you from experience, I’ve been that person more than once. In all of life, I’ve never had one  homerun in life in love, where I’ve felt the comfort in knowing someone will still be waiting for me when I get home… unless you’re talking about my four legged friends. Let’s be honest, they stay because I feed them. 

In the back of my head, I always think that it is just a matter of time until this happens…the second guessing, a rough day and the day ends with one or both of you not making each other a priority. 

Things slip, you stop talking a day here, stop sharing ideas, and you both add some space to focus on work, life and etc…until it eventually fades into just friends. I don’t handle this well when I can’t see someone, and I’ve never been good at long distance relationships or relationships where one travels too much between seeing one another. 

Part of me knows this, then the other part is holding onto hope or a glimpse of this working out. It’s a cruel joke that life plays on you, especially when there are so many odds against you from the beginning. 

My core tells me that it’s about managing, “the little things” and through these affirmations daily, you can try to beat the odds, but in life there are no guarantees and all is fair in Love and war, they say. 

I want to runaway

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I’m finding my self getting that incredible stir inside of me, you know….the one that makes me spin, the one that makes me laugh…just the the one that makes me magically want to leave it all behind and escape into a foreign land, a foreign place where there is nothing, but ruins, art, new sites, adventures, new friends, and a new beginning and maybe an end to something I’m leaving behind. 

 Either way, I’m getting the urge again to travel alone on a new adventure and take a leap into the unknown soon.

Is this just being bored, not being challenged, or am I ready for a change? I don’t know yet…my mind wanders to a time where I left everything and traveled several countries alone. It was scary, it was tough at times, but the life that came from the travels were amazing and I learned a lot about myself. 

I lost my home, left my love, lost my job, lost my dog, lost a cat, lost part of myself in the transition, yet on my travels I met myself again. A new, stronger self and have never looked back at a time in my life as a better opportunity.

 I would love to say that I’ve actually found a new love in my life, yet love evades me…as it usually does. It comes during a night and sneaks out by Dawn again with only a few lingering promises of love, a future, a dream of a lifetime that I yearn for and a wish on forever. 

 I’ve heard this story a hundred times or more in my forty plus years and it always ends the same, with me in tears, left waiting and never with the outcome one had hoped. 

Life is tough for a dreamer, yet dreams only come true for those who make wishes.

xx

Bad Gifts, The Christmas Spirit and What happens at a Holiday Party…stays there…right?

White Elephant, Chinese Christmas, Gag gift, re-gifting parties are always a great time…

I always wanted to be a “good-gifter”, since I know what being the victim of a bad gift feels like.

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In regards to gifts, as I was growing up I used to get the worst Christmas gifts and these continued into my adulthood from my grandparents or aunt.  Whatever it was, I usually received the pink one and my sister, the blue one.

Some of my favorite worst gifts were in my teenage years….

There was a strange flannel nightgown with little flowers all over it, and resembled something from, the TV show, “Little house on the prairie.”

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Another was white ceramic cat that had pink rabbit fur glued to it, always makes me laugh remembering opening these gifts and I’m sure that my face said it all.

I finally started putting their gifts to the side and allowing my sister to open them first. One year, my sister opened a ring gift box first and it was a beautiful opal setting and showing it to us. I’m thinking… could they have possibly gotten this right? Then, I open my ring box to see a pearl ring. You’re thinking, wow…that is a nice gift, right? Yeah, well…my pearl was the size of an eyeball. It was something out of a costume bin or a gumball machine and it was hilarious, probably not to me at the time, but I did love showing it to people as they looked horrified.

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As I got older, the gifts became more awkward.

When I was in my 30’s, I will never forget that I received a package of what appeared to be underwear. I thought that was odd enough, but this was a leopard print netting mesh panty set with top. Umm….. Ok. What the hell is this?  Did they send me a nighty?

Odd thing about it, was that they didn’t have a crotch?! My grandmother sent me crotch less panties?? I gave these to goodwill with a laugh wondering who would buy them at Goodwill.

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Then, another year, I received a strange lamp that I recall re-gifting and taking to a White Elephant gift exchange party… If I recall, someone actually fought over the ugly lamp. It was a crazy leopard lampshade thing.

Another time, my two close guy friends in high school once bought me a sweater for Christmas. It was “hands down” the ugliest sweater that I have ever owned.  I recall that it was a blend of light brown, teal, purple, & black that I’d ever seen. However, since they were so proud of it, I had to act like I loved it and also wear it.

Then, I have had boyfriends give me some crazy things as well, some of which I wondered who they were shopping for when I opened them. Awful earrings, one gave me, I recall Christmas morning opening them and being so disappointed.  There were so many funny gifts, one guy I dated bought me a DVD once, and I was like, “What is this? Who buys me a $10 DVD?” and I think that I’d bought him the DVD player. Umm, typical of my dating life… When it comes to gifts from people you are dating, I have learned that it’s better to just tell them what to buy you.

In my family, we always have a tradition on Christmas Eve with our friends to have a “White Elephant” party. They are generally awfully funny gifts that we intentionally buy for laughter, shock value and are usually hilarious. I must explain that this is one of the best events all year long, as we plan and prepare for this sometimes months in advance. While others show up with something normal or without a gift at all, the original members of the family tradition and friends always show up prepared for fun. My mother always has an extra gift or two wrapped, just incase someone shows up unprepared.

The funniest part about these parties is when someone new comes and they bring a nice gift and don’t necessarily understand the concept of a “gag gift” and bring something good, that you would actually want, yet they receive one of the funnier gifts.

I’ve seen the likes of a gift bag containing Peanut Butter, Jelly and a loaf of bread, singing stuffed animals, sexy toys, literally jingle bells men’s jock straps, and one year there was the set of men’s thongs that were furry and looked like Rudolph the red nosed reindeer with bells and all, bottles of booze, children’s toys, some of my favorites were from the “As Seen On TV” aisle or the Infomercial gifts. I think that I still have the “Shake Weight” somewhere around here…it’s that arm weight dumb bell thing, that looks like you’re doing something sexual jerking your arms up and down to tone them.

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Others were Chia Pets, The Clapper, Flow bee, the thigh master, and such.  The funnier part of these gifts is that some are so funny that they’re recycled year after year…like the infamous “Hank Williams” that sung and after a few years, he was finally retired.

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I personally favored the booze gifts; however, as I was always traveling, I was unable to take the bottles on the plane, so it always seemed like we were trying to drink it down before I flew home.

So, as I prepared to go to another party like this a few years ago, I found the classic gift to bring…The neck massager. It was perfectly perverse, as you could imagine it was shaped like a “C” and a woman could actually sit on it for vibration. I think to myself, wow… this is perfect. Under $15 and will be a classic terrible gift. My friend that I was going with said that they understood the concept and wrapped a gift in a bag and away we go.

The party gets along with a lot of drinking, booze, there is some food…we’re all having a blast, they even have karaoke set up in the living room…after an hour or two, it’s time for the gift exchange. By now, we’re all too drunk to understand some of the rule’s, or they’re being made up as we go.

So, the game begins, people are picking, swapping gifts, there is a bottle of booze, a pocket vibrator with some lubricant in a stocking…it’s hilarious, someone opens a red velvet thong set for a man with white trim and yes, it’s fought over…next thing you know my friend grabs it and is running around with these over his jeans.

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Finally, someone picks my neck massager, it’s an immediate hit, it’s immediately being ridden like a bull, and the rest of the party was a blur as I think that neither of us ended up parting with any of them…but woke up with a terrible hangover and calling each other trying to recap the night.

Later that afternoon, I open my purse to find something and find the Santa inspired men’s thong and a pocket rocket vibrator..hahaha and I laugh to myself… I finally left with the good gift!! How in the hell did these get here? I can’t wait to re-gift these again…the thong, not the vibrator.

Then, I find a video on my phone of my friends singing, “Hit me with your best shot!” ….One wearing the Santa thong, another in a green velvet jingle bells thong, and the third figured out how to straddle the neck massager and connect it to them…as he is holding a male blow up doll.

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My friend later admits that he found the blow up doll in his entry of his apartment and had also pissed himself and vomited somewhere, as there were evidence on his clothes, along with a bag from Mc Donalds…we laughed so hard about him walking passed his doorman with that bag of food and a blow up man doll.

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He never told me what he did with it, and I erased that video, as I never wanted to view it again…it was THAT bad.

This was such a fun night.

Classic Christmas tale.

Chinatown & The Happy Ending…

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I should have known this was going to be a strange day….any day in New York City can turn into an adventure quickly…New York City is a bitch, but I love it.

As I stand waiting on the platform, I notice the train schedule time is not changing frequently, it’s actually saying 2 minutes, but it’s now been 5 minutes and the time is now going up. There is a strange amount of traffic walking into the subway platform, which is a bit concerning to see it filling up so fast, with no relief of a train…meanwhile, we hear a muffled message about local trains being delayed downtown. This is when simultaneously, two older men, one to my left and one to my right start screaming obscenities about the costs of the subway and the “God Damned Delay’s!! We pay money for this shitty service!” one screamed, while the other screamed, “God Damn It! I got delayed 3 times yesterday on the fucking bus!! What the hell is wrong with the MTA!?!?” and he throws his paper into the subway tracks. Note to self, do not sit next to these men.

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Meanwhile, I am monitoring the platform fill up more and more and wait patiently for the train.  It finally arrives and to my surprise, it’s not a normal 6 train with the blue newer seats…it’s one of the older subways that runs on the west side with the brown panels and orange and yellow seating, no electronic messaging or notification of the times, delays, or next stops…which means that the speaker system is not the best either. I think, “Shit, what in the hell am I doing on this train!?”

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As we finally get moving, the conductor tells us that we are now running express from 42nd to Brooklyn Bridge due to an accident at 33rd. Then, we get another message as we are being held again that there is now “No Service below 42nd on the 4, 5, or 6 trains and the train is being re-routed for uptown when we get to Grand Central!” WTF! I think to myself, “Damn…it must be a jumper”…and exit at Grand Central. I call my friend that I am meeting for lunch and tell her I’m delayed and walking there…meet me in 30 minutes, as I have to walk there.

I walk west across Bryant Park to head south to Eataly to meet my friend for lunch, when I finally make it there, this place is so fucking crowded with tourists and she is nowhere in sight. I text her and she says that, “she cannot talk now, but will call/text soon?!” WTF?!  Today has been a complete shit show…I need a drink.

When she arrives, we have a bit of a wait for the table, then I order my food with a huge glass of wine, then another.

At this point, I’m being grilled by her on the trade secrets of dating in the United States, well specifically in New York City, as she is from the Philippines.

I’m like, “well… It’s difficult to meet people at our age, let alone date.” At this point in my life, I settle for a good book, a hot bath and a bottle of wine most weekends.  However, she knows that I have been actively dating and have been in relationships, as the 2 times that we have both met and gone out, I have been involved with men. Yes, the only 2 men that I have been with in over a year happened to be timed right around the same time that she has been visiting in the New York City area.

She asks way too many questions. At some point, I tell her this. As she asks me more questions, I am reminded of needing another glass of wine. Yes, if they could pour the entire damned bottle in my glass, I’d be happy at this point.

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The constant grilling of questions is reminding me of an interview and quite exhausting. Especially, when I cannot seem to figure out the “code to dating in NYC, let alone in America.”

I have been really good at being single most of my adult life. I could be voted off the island for this, I presume. One of my guy friends, recently told me that he needed to start lying to people about being “divorced” now, as people look at him funny because he’s in his 40’s and has never been married, let alone engaged. It’s sad because I can definitely relate to his dilemma, as I’m in the same category.

After lunch, we walk down the Highline, through the West Village, The Village, and Soho and to Chinatown, where she wants to buy me a Bubble tea and the plan is for us to get cheap massages. After walking 8-10 miles today…

I think to myself…”A massage does sound nice.” In my mind, I’m thinking spa…this is where that phrase, “Little did you know” comes into play. Let the fun begin.

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We walk down Canal Street, and then we wind through the back alleys of Chinatown that I have never explored before. Imagine a fucked up maze of tiny streets with bright neon signs for massage parlors that are lit up and you know, they don’t look very clean, nor do they look very legitimate. My inner American girl that grew up in a middle class, southern/midwest family is screaming, “What the hell are you doing here!?! GO HOME!” However, she’s leading us deeper into the evasive maze and says that she always goes here when she is in New York. So, I let her lead the way.

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As we wind through the streets, we pass many massage parlors, nail salons, hair salons and etc. all on the left side of the narrow street.

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Then, we go into the smallest, thinnest store front with some strange writing on the wall and a fake rose bush on a table to the left of the hallway with a bright massage menu that I glimpse at as my friend is barking commands to the man and ladies in waiting area, that are greeting us as we walk in. The people that work here do not speak much English; they speak some words, but nod a lot; they smile and bow.

My friend seems to raise her voice louder to them acting like it makes them understand her more, since her voice is raised…this reminds me of something my mother would do and I laugh to myself.

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The girls that work here are dressed in a strange “dirty” girl kind of looking way, maybe it’s to entertain the big, older gentleman that I just saw dive into one of the stalls with a younger girl for a “massage”.

The area that you walk in has some strange pleather sofa’s to the right, then you walk through a doorway with beads, yeah beads like the 70’s draping down to a darker area with red lighting and there are strange curtains hanging up on both sides of the room separating the massage tables, I guess.

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They point me to one on the right. Mind you, it’s fucking freezing outside, so I have got a huge puffy coat, pants, sweaters, boots and etc. on and have a huge bubble tea in my hand. I walk beyond the curtain to undress and the space is obviously where they store crap, as the massage table is pushed up at the end against a small sofa with big bags all over it and shit everywhere. The massage table is so close to the curtain, that my legs hang out of it into the middle of the walkway and hands keep coming through the curtain as I undress. I place my belongings at the end of the massage table on the sofa with the other junk. The area around the table is about 6-12 inches from the wall/curtains on all sides. I finally get down to my panties and think, “Damn, whoever is massaging me must be in the Circus, as they’re going to have to trapeze into this tiny area and hang on strings to get around me to massage me! What in the hell did I agree to?!?”

Then, as I lay there practically naked, someone comes into the area around the sheet and for all that I know, my arse is possibly able to be viewed by anyone in the walk way. I’m trying to relax enough to enjoy a $40 hour full body massage.  Someone starts rubbing my back and maneuvering around the table…I’m a ball of pins & needles and I cannot relax.

In my mind, I’m thinking…”What the fuck am I doing here!? Only $40? Am I still in New York? This place is scaring the crap out of me…are these people legal? Are they slave labor? Is that grunting that I’m hearing in the other stall? For fucks sake, what have I agreed to?!”

Then, my concentration is broken by my friend yelling in the opposite stall that she needs someone new. Well, that meant that the person that she didn’t want was then exchanged with the person that I had at present, so they swapped.

Then, I get a woman…the only reason that I knew this is because she has her hair down and keeps draping it over my back as she rubs my shoulders and at some point, she directs me in a movement.Wait a minute, is there a monkey in here, someone just hoisted themselves on the table with me! What in the hell just happened?

Meanwhile, a man interrupts the massage through the curtains to ask me, “HOW LONG YOU NEED ONE HOUR?”  I reply, “Sure, whatever my friend has agreed to!” This was a strange reply that they did not understand, so they keep sending people over to ask in different ways, so I finally reply, “Yes. One Hour!” What am I doing here?

I’m being rubbed, groped, pushed and pulled all over my body and she is pulling down my panties and accidentally touching me in areas that she should not be that close to, so I keep shifting by body around the table and moving my head. Let’s just be clear, I am not here for any happy ending folks, nor do I care to get massaged in my nether region by a chick for cash. What in the hell is going on here?

After my massage is finally finished, I am shuffled out to the seating area on the pleather sofas with the strange Chinese woman that gave me the massage.She keeps showing me her hand and making a face. Apparently, she has been doing so many massages that she has injured her hand and She tells me, “You pay my boss! You pay my boss!” and then goes, “You tip me?!”

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So, I hand her a $20, and she hides it after looking around in both directions, then I sit and check my phone, foursquare, face book and wait for my friend to return and finish while listening to strange music on the sofa with this woman, while she puts on makeup and primps for the next person to enter the parlor.

As I sit there, I wonder about the big man that I saw going behind the curtain with the other young girl when we walked in, what in the hell kind of service is he getting? As, I started after and had an hour massage and I’ve been sitting here over 30 minutes now… Is this place a brothel too? Is he getting a happy ending? Gross.

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Once my friend finally comes out, she doesn’t stop there with the body massage, she has the owner giving her a 10 minute foot massage and her feet are on an ottoman, as he gets on his knees in front of her rubbing. She tells him that I need one and tells me that it’s included, I opt out, as it seems completely demeaning at this point, plus I’m ready to get the hell out of this place in fear that some authority will come in and bust it up at any moment.  I make an excuse, “that I don’t want to take off my boots again.”

After her massage, we walk through the streets and wind back to the main streets and get back to Mott Street to modern day civilization. This is when we determine that we should get some food for dinner.

We see people standing in line for dumplings and dim sum and opt for another szechuan restaurant that looks pretty popular. Again, I need to explain that I am American, now this means that I’m somewhat adventurous, but only to an extent and fish is a touchy food item for me. I love sushi, love sashimi and I love meat, but mine comes in pretty pieces, in packages in the store and etc. I think you understand.

My friend keeps asking about sharing food and I tell her that I’ll just order something, as I’m funny about eating fish. I look at the menu and it’s huge…opt for spring roll’s, something similar to Kung Pao Chicken and she orders some fish dish and other dishes.  She refers to me as such an “American”, and I think to myself, “Why yes, I am.” And I tell her about the time that someone tried slipping me some catfish to eat 20 years earlier and how upset that I was.

The spring rolls come, Dumplings come, I eat them too, then the Kung Pao dish, and I’m eating some green beans that she has ordered to share and it’s a huge plate. At this time, I have no idea what is about to happen. This little waiter comes with a HUGE platter with a WHOLE FISH ON IT and puts it in front of me, in between the two of us. Then, she looks at me and says, “Dig In!”

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My face must have said it all…the waiter cut it in the middle exposing the bones everywhere and leaves it. She asked for Soy Sauce and rips into the fish like she’s never eaten before.

First thing she eats is the entire head, face, eyes and all with soy sauce, as I watch wondering about the bones, eyes and lips…then, eats the fins and explains that in Asia, this would be something that is fought over first in a meal.

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Meanwhile, she is asking me if I want some. I reiterate that I’m funny about certain foods…fish, being one of them and the fact that she just ate the entire face off the fish…it’s messing with my appetite. You see, I’ve realized that American’s, or at the least, this one, we do not like to eat things that look back at us on the plate. I explain this to her as well, then as she goes back into the banter of asking questions about dating American & men in New York City while devouring the remainder of the fish. I am thinking to myself, I wonder if any of the men that I know and have dated would react well to someone eating a whole fish in front of them, let alone the head first. After we are finished, she had the server package up the remaining food, both the fish and the food that I had not eaten to take home with her.

This evening was good, but a very strange adventure in New York City…. When I got home, I seriously scrubbed my entire body clean in the shower to ensure that I was clean before getting into my bed for the night.

As I’m dying for another massage, I’m still not tempted to return to this land of the happy ending.

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