Fucked Up My Chance at Eternal Happiness…Again!

Last night was my first night of my expensive, though (I believe), highly-regarded writing class here in NYC. Maybe I can finally learn something and fine-tune this playing around on this internet blog. We’ll see, maybe I’m just an old dog!

So anyway, I left work early, and arrived with time to spare on the correct street, before realizing that I had forgotten to bring the exact address with me. Knowing it was on this particular street and that it was held in a school, I figured it couldn’t be too difficult to find the place. Well, it was. After walking up the street and then self-consciously back again, I realized that there were a few options. There was something labeled a “seminary” which seemed to have some aspects of a school, though the people hanging outside its front doors were not children and honestly, a bit rough looking. The other option was a large and beautiful church, with a door flung wide open, making me think it was welcoming us in. I chose the church, thinking perhaps it was some sort of religious school the classes would be held in.

I walked up the stairs into a gorgeous foyer of marble-tiled floors, stained glass walls, and hanging down from the ceiling was some very large and unique chandelier, shaped somewhat like a teardrop and beautifully decorated in a rich orange-colored glass. A doorman, and another very hot man were standing there chatting. I approached slowly and asked them if the place was a school as well. “Have you come to confess your sins?” asked the cute guy. I smiled and faked offense, replying that I certainly had not. I explained to them how I was trying to find this class, and the cute guy asked if they had a website, then offered to go up to his apartment and look up the address. So, I waited down in the lobby with the chatty doorman and we talked. I should have been focused on getting more info on cute guy, but I was so enthralled with the possibility of living in a place like this (not to mention the continual opportunity to cause all sorts of horrible sins while living in a converted church). The doorman told me the apartments were gorgeous and gigantic, and a one bedroom ran $8000/month. My eyes nearly leaped out of my head in shock. I’m still wondering if that was true.

Soon, cute guy returned with the address in hand. But he didn’t stop there. Cute guy also walked me to the school, which actually turned out to be the place labeled “Seminary.” Though there were only seconds in that short walk, I was secretly screaming in my head, “Ask me out, please!” He was very kind, and definitely went out of his way (something I seem to see so seldom), and of course he was easy on the eyes. After making a comment that he would like to do something like this himself (take a writing class) sometime, my flustered and hyperbolic thank you’s, he patted me on the arm and took off back to his apartment. Nooooooo!

I know. You’re asking yourself, “Why didn’t she say anything? Do anything? Ask him out for coffee, etc.?” I know I know I know I’m an idiot. Why? Do you really want to dig into that neurotic mess? That, “I’m feeling really fat and bloated today, there’s no possible way he could be interested!” or the “Just because someone is being kind doesn’t mean they want to get into your pants.” or “I’m fooling myself/being arrogant if I think he’s interested in me,” ETC!!!!!

I’ve got issues.

Most of it has to do with my weight, which I previously have mentioned is at its all-time peak of my life. I have joined a gym and have started to go on a semi-regular basis, but the results are not quite in yet. I need about three months. In the meantime, I occasionally catch myself in the mirror and feel a slight shock at seeing myself look older/fatter than I picture myself looking during the day. Thailand gave me wrinkles and returning to America gave me fat. I’ve been ecstatically eating all this great food I haven’t seen for three years and LOTS of candy (I was a big candy eater before, now it’s worse since I’ve missed it all so much). This will all change given time. I hope.

Of course, spinning out this yarn to a small group of enthralled, female colleagues this morning, I was repeatedly told I was an idiot, had missed my chance, and, “You should’ve said ________” over and over. It’s a good way to make you feel even worse about the situation. Don’t give up on my female friends yet, they are also a great source of inspiration, and each person had their own unique way to give it another try. I think the one best suited to me in the end consists of leaving a business card (err, though I don’t technically HAVE any business cards), with the doorman who will hopefully remember me and not laugh at me (though I am dying my hair from dark brown to blonde this weekend and that may put a few kinks in the “Remember me?” approach). Let’s see if I can have an iota of courage to do this. I am hoping to do it before my next class (same time next Thursday), but if not, I was thinking, same time-same place may be the appropriate setting of action. I’ll let you know how it goes.