That’s Stella

Eric convinced me to ask out John for drinks. It wasn’t a major leap because Eric, John and I had already discussed hanging out on Saturday night. So I messaged him.

“Hi! Great to meet you last night. What are you up to tonight? Interested in meeting up for drinks? Stella”

No reply. Rejection! To be honest, I knew there was a big chance that would happen. Unfortunately, as much as we got along, I kinda knew feelings weren’t reciprocated. Eric has been harping on that he thinks I’m scared of rejection and that’s what stops me from getting out there. I love that he tells me this like it’s some big revelation, but I doesn’t take Einstein to figure that one out. This is 100% true. So even though this is going to sound retarded, I almost wanted rejection from John so I could feel the pain of rejection, and see how I dealt with getting over it.

So I headed out with my girlfriends on Saturday night. Eric joined us and pushed me to talk to random men. After he left, me and my friend headed to one bar in the East Village. By this time, it was 2am and I was a happy drunk and feeling flirty and sexy. I kept glancing at this cute guy who stood alone behind us at the bar, but was occasionally talking to some Asian girl. He wore plaid and was tall and did I mention he was cute? Soon enough, he came over and started chatting to me. My friend felt like the 3rd wheel and disappeared to the toilets. I’m chatting to this guy Sean, and we start making out at the bar. We couldn’t have given a toss about who we were, what we did, our background, etc.. which I think is the reason I felt so sketchy about the whole situation.

He was begging me to leave the bar with him. If he wasn’t so cute I would’ve walked away after his “smooth line” of “How would you feel about seeing me naked?”. But I was lapping up the attention. It was a major ego boost after such a dry season and it was just what I needed. By 3am, the bar was emptying out and Sean and I headed to the back of the bar where it was pitch black and my girl friend was dancing with this tall mammoth of a man. I know this is going to sound juvenile, but as we made out in the corner, I gave him a hand job. Hah. A hand job! Yes, i am 25 years old and gave a hand job to some random guy at a bar. But like I said, it was pitch black. He asked to go back to my place, but I just was not feeling it. I’ve been complaining to my friends for months about my poor sex life, and here was this guy, cute and eager, and I couldn’t feel it. I dragged my girl friend outside and asked what I should do… she walked me to the curb, popped me in a cab and told me it wasn’t worth it. So yes. I left this poor guy at the bar wondering where I was. And whilst I felt really bad the next morning, I had no regrets.

My boy friends have been pushing me to get back into the dating scene. I admit that my love life has been super lame this year. I’ve met lots of great guys, but they’ve either become platonic friends straight away, or like Jason, I start seeing them, we become close, and all of a sudden he’s my best friend and romantic feelings are thrown out the window. This happens all the time. sigh.

When I moved back to NY last year, I met so many guys and was a lot more confident and daring and brazen. My favorite encounters was this guy and this guy. I used my foreignness to my advantage and threw out my Australian accent whenever I got a chance. But this year, that brazen foreign girl that was once me seems to have disappeared. I’ve become too comfortable with my group of friends and being the center of attention with my guy friends has almost replaced the neediness for sex/love/romance.

So Eric (who has been the biggest pusher for me to get back to my brazen self) set me up with his friend on Friday night. I met Eric, his friend John and John’s friend Jeff at a bar on the Lower East Side.

As soon as I saw John, I thought “Holy crap. Eric has really pulled through”. He was just my type. Brown floppy hair and big, thick, brown rimmed glasses. We had a great conversation and exchanged numbers, but he was far more interested in talking to Eric about business, and Jeff was far more interested in me. But I wasn’t interested. Jeff was a little prickly at first, but the more we got to talking, the nicer he was. He bought me drinks because he told me, “I don’t want you to leave”. Conversation was good enough but I felt like he was trying to up me all the time. There was no spark. In fact, I thought he was gay when I first saw him and ruled him out straight away. John left the bar a little earlier then we did. Jeff ended up walking me home.

Erik messaged me the next morning asking if anything happened with Jeff. I texted back…

“NO”.

Saturday night was another story. Two words.

Drunken. Debauchery.

Stay tuned.

A new girl joined our agency today. We all work in an open space sharing big desks. People are pretty precious about who shares their desk. We’re on a big table of 6 and up until the start of summer, we had a perfect little possie - we were one big happy family, till three girls quit the ad industry all together.

I suppose since our table was pretty bare, they sat the new girl with us.

It was her first day and she wore jeans and a white tank top with her belly button showing. The HR director took her around and the new girl kept calling the director “Hun”. “Thanks Hun.” “No worries Hun”. Her ball point pen rolled off her desk and on the floor and she screamed “Oh no!” and made sure everyone on our floor heard about it. She screams into the phone and has to make a noise and make her presence known. Any little twitch is heard. Any little movement and someone on the other side of the building can hear it. Here’s the bitchy girl in me, but oh god she is so annoying!!!

And to top it all off? She’s a Kiwi.

Don’t get me wrong. I have friends from New Zealand, but since Flight of the Conchords, everyone plays up this big rivalry between Australia and New Zealand and this just makes it worse. Everyone keeps asking if we’re going to wrestle and if they need to keep us apart.

I got back from a meeting in the afternoon and had two instant messages from two friends who sit a few desks away.

Phil “I don’t care what that new girl’s name is - she’s officially called Loud Mouth”.

Amy “Don’t hate me for saying this, but that Australian chick needs to pipe down or else her face is going to meet my fist”.

Hooray for friends.

*please note - I do not really condone violence. Not all the time anyway.

Here’s reason # 8298 why I love New York…

Last week I was walking to work. It was a gorgeous day. The sun was out. It was a slightly chilly morning. I was walking the back streets to work, going along Washington Street.

Who do I see walking his dog but my music idol - Lou Reed! LOU REED!
Velvet Underground is my favorite band and I am such a huge fan of the man. I wanted to scream. Instead I laughed because I thought it was such a typically ridiculous thing that could only happen in this city. Walking to work and bumping into a music legend. Love it.

When I moved to NY last year, I saw him at this small show for $30. I went on my own and had a “NY moment”. I stayed after the show hoping to get a record signed. I stayed for a good hour after the show, only to see him get ushered away quickly into a town car. I was gutted.

I went to a party earlier this year and he was there with his partner Laurie. I was so intimidated by the crowd I couldn’t approach him.

And now here I was. Just me and Lou and his dog. My perfect opportunity. And did I say anything? No. I didn’t need to. I walked to work with an extra spring in my step and boasted about my encounter to colleagues.

And of course… I fell in love with NY all over again.