“Where’s Your Unlimited Metrocard?”

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“If you get back with him, I’m not going to think of you as the smart Kim I know.  I’m going to think of you as weak and desperate.”

Had it not been for my guy friends, I’d probably still be waiting and wishing for a way to get back with my ex.  True, nothing is like a post-heartbreak pow-wow with your girls, but they were all pretty much saying the same thing.

“Wow! He’s an idiot! *pause* Do you think you guys will ever get back together?”

I kept giving the same response.  I don’t know… Because I didn’t.  The last thing on my mind was dating other people.  Convinced I was not girlfriend material, I had accepted that I would be an old maid unless I got my ex back.  Oddly, it seemed that my girlfriends agreed. Some suggested I befriend him, maybe he’d realize he made a terrible mistake. Maybe he would miss me as a girlfriend and want me back.  Maybe he’d see that I’m The One and he’d come beating down my door begging for forgiveness. Quizás. (Now that I think about it, I wouldn’t want any of those things to come true.  Why should I be the runner up?)

The boys were of a completely different mindset.  They told me to delete his number, ignore his texts and emails… completely forget about him.  One even told me to “throw that booty around.”  Metaphorically speaking.  But when my friend hinted at my desperation it really shook me up.  Desperate never was a word that I associated with myself.  Gram (my munchkin, my dumpling, my grandmother) agreed with the boys.  “If you listen to those girls, you’ll be moo-hooing over him forever.  I thought you had an unlimited Metrocard.”  That was our running joke… she would say, “Men are like buses.  There’s always another one coming.”  And I would quip back, “Yep, and I have an unlimited Metrocard!”  Where was my Metrocard?

That was the last time I pined for him.  With all my moxie gathered, I flirted with every cute guy I saw.  Coquette… I was back.

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Bella. Linda. Bonita.

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Being that my morning and evening commutes are each a solid hour long, I have plenty of time to read or goof off on my new phone.  The other night I chose to do the latter, testing out the Huffington Post app for Android, when the following headline stopped me mid-scroll flick.

Sarah Silverman: Jimmy Kimmel Never Called Me Pretty

I read it a couple of times, mouthing the words to help my mind comprehend what my eyes were seeing.  Umm, what?! My mind flashed back to her lovely GAP campaign; below was her, cute as ever, from her Page Six Magazine cover. The article goes on to preview her interview with the magazine, in which she says about her new beau, Alec Sulkin, “I think he’s the first guy in a decade who’s given me any kind of compliment, like saying I’m pretty or anything.”  My shock wore off, because right then, I knew exactly what she was talking about. Read the rest of this entry

Bull’s Eye

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24. New York City.

After my boyfriend of over 4 years dumped me, I ventured back into the dating scene with little abandon.  I met men everywhere, from Twitter to subway trains, and boy was it an experience!  Not only did I get a glimpse into the mind of a man in his 20s (or teens due to my very brief, yet enjoyable stint with a 19 year old), I was able to delve deeper into my feelings of love, lust, and, “I am not into him!”  This blog chronicles these adventures and then some.

We’ve all been in like, in lust, and hope to one day, really, be in love.