That’s Stella

When I was back in university, I fell hard for this guy. I spotted him in a 500 person Accounting 101 lecture. He wore a blue Carhartt jacket, had brown floppy hair and nerd glasses. I went to every Accounting tutorial class till I found which class he was in. When I found him, I sat next to him at the back of the class. I cracked some joke about him and we instantly became friends. We would go back to his house after class and lay on his bed and listen to music. Whilst I acted as the cool chick friend, he would tell me about the girls he was sleeping with. I listened to Interpol the whole time to sort of numb the pain and even today, nearly 5 years later, completely over him, and remaining friends, listening to Interpol today still makes my stomach get into a knot.

I know this seems really out of the blue (especially because I’ve never mentioned him before and more recently there’s been The Beard and The Brit) but I’ve fallen for this guy – who I’ll call the Surfer for now. I can already tell it’s going to end in heartbreak. I’m listening to the new Yeah Yeah Yeah’s album “It’s Blitz” and not only is it such a beautiful record, but the tone and feel of the whole album couldn’t be more appropriate for the way I feel right now. Just like Carhartt boy owns my experience with Interpol, I hate that The Surfer is now linked to this album.

On Saturday night, one of my Aussie boy friends who is in town for a week met me at my apartment before heading out for dinner. Whilst drinking a few glasses of red, I accused him of having yellow fever. Of course he denied it, but when I pointed out the fact that his last 3 girl friends were of Asian origin and his Hollywood crush is Lucy Liu, well, it wasn’t a hard case to argue.

So we head to Do Hwa for dinner – a great Korean restaurant a couple of blocks away from my place. We’re seated at the back of the restaurant and just as we’re ordering, I look at the table next to us and realize its Patricia (who did all the wardrobe for Sex and the City and has her own clothing line). She’s with three other people, including a little Asian woman.

I joke with my friend that it’s Lucy Liu. I looked back at the little Asian woman….
“FUCK. It is her!”

My friend called me a liar, till he looked at the pretty, sweet faced Asian woman and nearly had a panic attack when he realized I wasn’t pulling his leg. I had to tell him to “Chill the fuck out.” He did a relatively good job considering he was practically sitting next to his Hollywood crush.

Lucy is really small. I read on imdb that she’s 41, but she looks like she’s 21. She’s really pretty, but to be honest, I wouldn’t have noticed her if it wasn’t for Patricia (who is this 50+ year old woman with bright red hair and rock and roll style).

I love funny coincidences like that in NY. Last year I watched Shawn of the Dead. A couple hours later, I walked out of my apartment building and bumped into Simon Pegg. Trippy.

I woke up on Friday morning to my alarm going off, a splitting headache and a naked British man on my favorite side of the bed. He smelled of cigarettes and alcohol.

On Thursday night, me and my Aussie mate (who is in town with all his friends, including The Brit) bar hopped from The Spotted Pig to Employees Only, to Fat Cat and ended up getting a private room at Sing Sing Karaoke at 3am belting out some golden oldies.

The Brit was looking after me and I was drowning in gin and tonics from early in the night. I got up on the couches in our private karaoke room and attempted the moonwalk as I belted out Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Were Made For Walking”. The night almost turned sour when the Brit and I went back to my place and I thought I was going to throw up in the cab. Classy.

I got cosy with the Brit two days earlier. He was the hot rocker type with wavy brown messy hair, side burns, brown leather jacket and Led Zeppelin band shirt. The heavy, charming British accent didn’t hurt either.

It was a struggle getting ready for work that morning. The Brit remained asleep the whole time I was getting ready. When it was time for me to leave for work, I shook him… he got up and was pasty and red and blotchy… I told him I had to go but he could sleep in and just close the door behind when he left. He gave me a big cigarette tasting kiss (BLERGH!) and hug and fell asleep.

When I got home from work that night, I found post it notes scattered in my apartment (my fridge, bathroom cabinet, TV, cupboard) with little notes from him. Cute!

A: We’ll be drinking at the same party tonight.

When I moved to NY, one of my “TO DO’s” was to see Lou Reed live - and I did - last year. He played literally around the corner from my apartment at this small and intimate venue. My ticket was only $25. I think I might have cried during the concert because it was so fucking surreal. But, I never thought I’d be at the same party as Mr. Velvet Underground.

I have so much to tell you.

In the mean time, check out my pretty new phone.

I had a Motorola Razr and the top finally snapped off - yes, I was pretty much expecting it from the day I bought it. Poor purchase decision. I am sticking with Nokia all the way.

Okay. I hate that every weekend seems to be a new boy drama but this one I have to share.

Last Saturday night I went out with one of my girl friends, Fiona. I had low expectations of the night because she was on the hunt. I hate going out with the aim to pick up, because 99.9% of the time you come home alone and that’s always a bit of a disappointment.

We went to 8 different bars in the Lower East Side within 2 hours – hopping from one bar to another if there were too many girls and/or no cute guys. It was a bore. She wasn’t really interested in having a conversation, and spent the whole time scanning the room. At every bar I felt like I was back in school phys ed class, waiting for someone to pick me to be on their basketball team.

We ended up bumping into some guy friends on the street and decided to go to The Back Room (a speakeasy of sorts that has a “Toy Store” sign in the front to deter people – once you pass the sign, you go through a dark alley and enter this hidden luscious Victorian-y style bar that serves drinks in tea cups and has faux book shelves that take you to hidden rooms).

As soon as we get there, I spot this beautiful bearded indie hipster man wearing a striped white and black sweater and donning nerdy eye glasses. Um… WOW. I wanted to take him home.

Ten minutes later I’m talking to the gorgeous bearded indie man of my dreams. Turns out we’re in the same industry (he’s a TV/commercial/music director) so we have loads in common, other than our shared love for Broken Social Scene. We start getting a little cosy – he has his arms around my waist and I have my arms around his neck. We are cheek to cheek, he is talking into my ear so his beard is brushing my cheek and the combination of everything from our closeness to his beard rubbing against me, to his warm breath… ARGH! I just remember closing my eyes and being completely hypnotized and really, really…horny.

Fiona kept telling me she didn’t find him attractive (she likes short baldish Jewish men) so imagine my surprise when she could not stop flirting with him the whole night and kept trying to get in on my scene!! At first I didn’t think anything of it. We left The Back Room with the Beard and his friends to go to the Saturday Night Live after party, and that’s when I got smart about what she was doing. We would be walking on the street, and she would stand in between us and cut me off and have a private conversation with him.

We all ended up having pizza at 5:30am and that’s when Fiona gave The Beard her number!!!!

Furious was an understatement. I could tell at the end of the night that The Beard liked Fiona more – and I wasn’t upset - I mean seriously, what a dicky thing to do to play two girls. And fuck him. He is just some random guy and I live in New York where there are plenty of indie boys.

But I can’t believe my “friend”. I haven’t said anything to her yet because I wondered if I was over reacting, but I have come to the conclusion that I am entitled to be pissed. She knew I liked him and we were only hanging out because of ME. What a shitty thing to do. If my girl friends like a guy, I am all for facilitating romance, not ruining it!

My sublet for my apartment doesn’t end till June, but it’s such a good time for apartment hunting right now that I can’t help but look. The great thing is, I’m not on the lease so I can technically leave anytime, plus my house mates are pretty cool girls and would understand if I found a place bigger then our home now - right now we’re living in a shoe box in the best part of Manhattan - the West Village.

Prices in rent have really come down with the recession and landlords are even offering one month free rent.

Here’s a few places I want to check out in the next couple of days:
Tribeca Loft
Massive Soho Loft with Outdoor Deck
Greenwich Village Loft with Outdoor
West Village apartment

My favorites are the top three (Tribeca, Soho and Greenwich Village) but they’re not my ideal location.

I can’t believe I’ve even been contemplating a move out of the West Village - it’s great walking to and from work in 10 minutes and walking through the beautiful, quiet brownstone lined streets - but space is really becoming an issue. Not so much so that I’m contemplating a move into Brooklyn (HA! I am no where near ready for that - ask me again when I’m about to have kids), but all I want is space where I can have dinner parties and entertain friends in my own place. Is that so much to ask? Well in New York - yes it is.

I spent Saturday night bar hopping in the Lower East Side, going from one friend’s birthday to another. Around midnight I settled at one of my favorite bars, Stanton Public.

We ended up sharing a table with one cute guy who was with his group of attractive indie hipster friends on the next table. I sat opposite him and we said hello’s.

Shortly after, he starts conversation with me. We’re one on one and I’m thinking this guy is really cool. A nice, down to earth guy. We get onto the topic of social marketing, namely on Twitter and Facebook and my girl friend sitting next to me butts in on our conversation when she hears the guy say “I don’t use a real photo of me on my profile”. To that comment, she butts in with “That is really lame!” and she starts going off at him, with no real argument other than “It’s lame” and it’s the first time I realize just how brash and loud this chick is!!! I was blown away and embarrassed.

It’s one thing to tease and be a little sassy, but this poor guy got a full fledge abusing!

Anyway… my friend can’t stop talking. She’s going on about how she uses Facebook to stalk old friends and to be honest, I completely zone out because not only am I furious that she is being a cockblocker, but quite frankly, it’s at this point where I don’t want to associate myself with her mindless banter AND get this, the guy excuses himself mid way through her story to use the bathroom! When he returns he sits on the other side of the bench with his friends!

My girl friend remarks “Awww he’s cute!! I am totally going out with you next weekend. Random strangers talk to you all the time, I’m telling you, it’s the accent! Anyway he’s lame. I can’t believe he’s not talking to us”.

Firstly, even though I hate go to out to “pick up”, even if I did, I would definitely not take her. Secondly, random strangers DO talk to me, but very rarely are they cute and interesting.

I ended up walking a few miles home at 3am to walk off the frustration. Let me just say, it’s going to take a lot more than a walk to get rid of this sexual frustration. ARGH!

… I am not convinced Jon is completely straight.

He says he’s straight. His friends say he’s straight. But it’s the way he speaks. The way he laughs. That makes me question if he’s undecided on what team he bats for.

My gay boyfriend - who only came out when he was in his 30ies after he got divorced to a chick who apparently looks like Jane Seymour – told me I should just confront Jon about it. He thinks I’m confusing Jon’s French background with being gay, but even if I am, I don’t want to be the girlfriend constantly being questioned about her boyfriends sexual preference.

A good friend of mine, Christian is similar-ish. Totally appears to be a gay man, but loves women, but has a disturbingly alarming obsession with androgyny. So I feel like I should be more understanding, but dude… I need a MAN man.

It took me forever to decide what to wear on my date with Jon. Our plan was to check out some bands in the Lower East Side (hipster central) so I was leaning towards the indie girl checkered dress outfit. But my house mates (who dressed like hipsters for Halloween) convinced me otherwise and told me to go “pretty”. I waved my long locks and donned a cool dress and wondered in the cab on the way to meet him if it really would have mattered either way. Oy! What girls go through!

I went to meet him at 10:30 at the Mercury Lounge. When I got there, I was on the look out for tall men to spot him in the crowd. I was checking out one tall cute guy and was pleasantly surprised when I realized it was Jon. I had butterflies in my stomach. Ha!

There was a big crowd so we didn’t really get to do the hug/kiss hello. He led the way to the entrance and discretely paid for everything like he was handing $20 bills in a handshake. One minute I was inside and the next I had a drink in my hand. He was such a smooth operator.

We found a place inside towards the back to the corner where I could see the band and where he wasn’t blocking anyone’s view. Perfect compromise. During one of the songs, I went to whisper something in his ear. He leaned down and before I could say what I was about to say, he kissed me.

And it was awesome. And it was lingering. And I completely felt it.

After the show, we caught a cab to the East Village and had drinks at this cool bar. It was nice and dark and we nabbed the perfect corner seat by the window. Every time he put his hand on my leg or I brushed his hand it was a little exciting. We teased each other between conversations about music and New York and our experiences.

At 3:30 I kissed him on the cheek and got in a cab to go home - alone.

Despite how great everything seems, there was one thing that was bugging me…