Intimacy And My Cell Phone

I've noticed lately how easily people move in and out of eachothers lives. Some friends you swear you'll have forever and others you can't wait to get rid of. The other day I was looking through the list of contacts on my cell phone wondering when I met so many Mikes. A few of my contact entries were simply bar names...the places were I'd met random people, added their phone numbers and never bothered to edit or even remember their real names. And what of my illegible entries....AsHMniog...that's not a name...wow I was drunk. Cell phones, something most people so readily rely upon to communicate with loved ones and friends...something that is so vital to my daily routine, should not be the means for allowing any Tom, Dick, or Harry into my life. Maybe I should be more protective of my cell phone. To a certain extent, adding someone to one's phone is an act of intimacy...like establishing the builing blocks of a relationship. My roomate the other day declared that she had "deleted" a guy that she'd been seeing from her phone. With a press of a button, she ended...removed someone from her life. It seems to me that intimacy, whether friendly or romantic is as easily acquired and lost as a press of a button. I guess I miss the days of writing a phone number on a cocktail napkin.

Sharks

I was in an elevator this week at work with a couple of them. I think Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City called them Toxic Bachelors or something. They are the guys that many women in New York want to be with...they appear ultra successful because they dress impeccably, have immaculate grooming habits-their hair, complexion, even manicure are flawless-and yet they appear so masculine- that urban masculine look alla George Clooney in Ocean's Eleven. Of couse I stared at them shamlessly and noticed which elevator button they pushed. We made a couple of slighly flirty comments to eachother and then ding....my floor...I was on my way. I'm not sure what exactly is my "type", but damn these guys were gorgeous...and of course they knew it. Upon stepping into the elevator though, almost immediately, the red flags flashed before my eyes...stay away the flags said. Not that any woman wants to settle, but come on...these guys are kryptonite. You think you can change them, make them great boyfriends or husbands, but when it comes down to it, their eyes will always be wandering...especially in this city. Oh they'll settle down..maybe a girlfriend or wife...cause that's what people eventually do...but that girlfriend or wife will always be on her guard. And why will these guys keep looking? Because they can. This shark is the ideal of many gals I know...sometimes myself...but happiness in a relationship often times can't be found with a guy like this. And if settling means ending up with a guy that doesn't fit a certain mold you've spent years creating in your head, but that makes you feel good and confident in yourself and your relationship, then settling may be a bed I'd like to lie in.

Bored

I'm twenty-four, single, have great friends, great social life...and I'm bored. I've felt this way for awhile...like I've just been waiting for something to happen. A friend mentioned the same thing-that she was bored, and really didn't know why. I think we're both spoiled brats. We live in a great city where something's always going on and everywhere you go there are people to meet and things to learn. Maybe we're trying to shake off the summer routine. Perhaps the changing of the seasons will inspire us to take more joy and interest in the things we're doing and the things we hope to take on. I'm buying a camera next week. I really want to make my interest in photography a serious hobby. I'm not sure if taking photos will spice up my life, but at least it will add some eye candy to my blog.

Rent

Living in New York City...I suppose everyone has experienced their apartment become a hotel/hostel at some point...especially in your twenties. There's always someone crashing on the couch, floor, and futon...people coming into town for visits, local friends moving into and out of apartments/condos, and the random third and fourth roomate that pops up for " extended visits"...specifically those who pay part of the rent, but never seem to get their name on the lease. These living situations become all too familiar in a city where people decide whether to eat beef jerky every night or pay rent on time. Sometimes though, these situations leave little room for privacy/quiet time, and make me feel very anti-social. The "additional roomate" days leave me screaming for alone time, and the absence of conversation. Maybe I'll take an oath of silence as an excuse to avoid another worthless conversation. It's funny though how loneliness can creep up in a city that never sleeps. I guess random company isn't that bad.

Fall Cleaning

I love the changing of the seasons. Especially fall. I'm not such a fan of spring cleaning. The whole losing an hour thing is no fun, and I can't say that I'm a huge fan of my spring wardrobe. However, this whole fall forward thing is great. Sleeping in an extra hour, taking out of hibernation weathered sweaters, scarves, leather jackets, buying new boots, planning trips to cider mills and apple orchards. This stuff interests me far more than planning your entire summer around the weddings, graduation parties, and barbeques of others-no matter how fun these events may be. Summer is always fleeting. And the whole season is all about questions like- what's up for this weekend? And are you heading to the shore sometime? There is a constant sense of urgency to make sure that every waking moment of sunshine and warm weather counts. And a sense of guilt if you don't. Fall is a time to relax, and say- no...I don't really have plans this weekend-thank god. So cheers to the not so warm weather, walking to and from work before sunrise and after sunset, and those stupid seasonal sweaters decorated with pumpkins, apples, and haystacks.

September 4, 2006

Labor Day weekend is over. It was a great holiday. I'm still going to wear white shoes.