Party Pics.

my Best-guy-friend-Karl was in town this past weekend. Interestingly enough, Morgs (my bestie up here) has a best guy friend too. She met him in college at UNC and his name is Chase. Weirdly enough, Chase is Karls Brother. smallest world on earth. My girl from College LA also lives in NYC, so we all went to Marquee on Saturday night... here are a few highlights...

click to enlarge....

Rope-A-Dope

Rope-A-Dope-- refers to a boxing technique made famous by M. Ali. The idea is that he would get into a defensive stance and let's his opponent beat him up. The opponent would think he was winning because of all the landed hits. Meanwhile Ali is posted up, waiting for the other guy to get tired, then he comes off the ropes, K.O's the other guy and its a rap.

I like that idea and it's an applicable like approach as well. However, in this situation...I'm the fucking other guy...and I got Ali-ed.

My sister E met a boy in January. This was delightful to me because I figured once she was occupied and entertained the focus on my unconventional 'relationship' with the banker would no longer be in the spot light.

So she sends me a BBM in the class we have together: 'what are you doing Friday at 9'

Side bar: the correct way to answer this question is "why?" If you're like me and say "mmm...nada, what's up" you are already saying yes to whatever the plan is. See how I don't have any defenses up? See how my ass is just runnin around the ring all willy-nilly like I don't need to protect my face!

Ok, so she then asks me if I'll go bowling at the spot in Harlem. She explains that her new boo is bringing his buddy from college and he asked E to bring a friend too. She then explained that she really wanted me to get to know her lil boo better and it was gonna mean a lot to her if I went.

So, I say yes because I am dumb and because I love E. I make it very clear that I want the guy-friend to know that I am there as E's sister. Not as nobody's date. I don't go on dates like that. And, if I did? Trust. It wouldn't be a blind one to go bowling.

So the Friday night rolls around and we head to the spot. I'm not sure what to wear because E keeps insisting it's 'totally casual. Real chill'. So I put on a black v-neck tee. Skinny jeans, my fucking Nikes... And for good measure I put on a nicer cardigan and, like real make-up. E is wearing like, boots, and a nice coat and like, I'm thinking, whatever....this is HER date. I'm here to like.... Bowl.

Went we get there I see E's boo and he explains that his friend... Is in the bathroom. we'll call my date "Elliott"

When Elliott does appear I do the mental filing that every person on earth does when they meet someone of the opposite sex:
My thoughts went like this---
'Hum...tall, nice clothes. Not that hot. Sort of not fit. Probably very nice. I def. Could never date him.... I don't wanna even bang it out.... Category: after tonight I'll never see this kid again.'

Seems shallow, but act like that's now how it really happens.

I am immediately played when I meet him. He says something to effect of "it isn't often I get to take beautiful girls out... Of course its on me."

What.

This is a 'taking me out' why the fucckkkk is this a date?

This bowling alley was the kind of place that had a full bar in it. E and I go and buy the first round. So all 4 of us re having a beer, getting ready to bowl and Elliott and I start making small talk. As I we chat I realize a few things. 1- He has a great personality. 2- He isn't "ugly". He's more teddy bear cute. 3- I am on a date. Personality is my kryptonite. I am a sucker for a good vibe. I'm also a natural born flirt and, contrary to popular belief, I am really freakin nice.... so it pretty clear how this is going to go down.

To quicken this story I'll hit up the highlights:

- I start drinking like a fish because Elliott is stressing me out. For ever compliment he dished, cheap feel he copped, and follow-up date he arranged, I drank. So much that after the 2 hour bowling session I'd had 7-8 beers. The boys? they had 1. E? she had 3.

- So now I'm that drunk girl, talkin shit, getting belig. Cussing every time I roll a gutter ball, talking shit to Elliott and E's date, etc.

- Elliott make a bet that if I out score him, he picks our next date, and if he outscores me, I pick it. my response is "well. I guess I respect your hustle, Elliott." What.

- He keeps on getting hugs and has me sit on his knee like I'm some kind of child. I don't sit on nobody's knee and all that close talking is weird.

- He asks me if I have a boyfriend. I say "no....but I'm not single either." I pulled the Eyrkah Badu Next Life Time intro move "... you know, I'm in a situation...." He responds that he is up for the challenge. In life if he sees something he likes, He'll go after it. And he is more than ready to make my #1 disappear. What.

-When we leave bowling he is walking with me in the street. I am trying to BBM my friends/ text the banker a fast as possible. he then HOLDS MY HAND AND PUTS IT INSIDE OF HIS COAT POCKET FOR WARMTH. I want to puke all over him at this point. a) you're trying to keep me from texting. Yes is rude, but you don't need to be trying to regulate my behavior, guy. b) you're holding my hand inside your pocket and it's gross.

- We get to this bar and E realizes she left her tab open at the bowling alley. So she and her boo go back to get it. And I am just there, drunk.

- As I mentioned before, he has a good personality. So, I tell him I'm really hungry, since I drank my dinner at the bowling alley. We go to his car and head to the IHOP in Harlem.

- On the way he keeps referring to me as "his perfect Clair Huxtable." what. That is fucking weird. You don't know me.

- He keeps making references to me as his future wifey. "...lets say, you and I get married...." And he keeps pouring compliments on me. All I can think is "this wasn't supposed to be a date."

- He was weird about food. I order a fat Omelet and he gets pancakes. He doesn't use the butter and he askes for sugar-free syrup. Not a problem at all.... but he kept like talking about it. Things like "I've been back in the gym lately" or "if you and I have kids, we'll have to make sure they are active in sports because their daddy has big genes." whyyyy.

The end of the night:

We leave IHOP after a good conversation, and a part of me is sorry that I can't/won't date this kid. A small, small part.

He tells me that he'd like to take me out again on Feb. 19th. Somewhere downtown for jazz, and he let me know upfront that he was comfortable being #2 right now and that he was working for the #1 spot. That made my skin crawl. I felt like Carrie in the episode when she and Miranda are trying on ugly wedding dresses, and because Carrie doesn't really want to marry Aiden she has the aaa (acute anxiety attack) and has to rip the dress off. I NEVER confirmed these dates. I NEVER did anything to make him think I was in to him. I treated him like I treat all my platonic relationships. I swear.

We get to my house and I tell him good night. He insists on walking me to my door. I am dying. At the door he starts in on the speech about how great the night was, etc. I give him some awkward hug and try to slip in my door. He has my arm and pull me back. DIE.

He gives me a kiss on the cheek and I return it. I don't even know why. Then he goes for ANOTHER kiss on the cheek-fake-out and tried to fucking kiss me. Here's where shit gets real.

I PUT MY HAND OUT TO HALT HIM. (read: sp awkward and unpleasant for everyone.) and I am visible shaking my hand and I may or may not have been hand gesturing to him as well. Here is me: "No, no, no, no, no. No, Elliott. No. No." Really, Sesh? Like.... seriously?

He then proceeds to beg me. Yup. Shameless begging " Please.... Please, just one Kiss? Please."

Me: (more hand gestures) No Elliott. No..... but, I had a great night, drive home safe!" POOF: I disappear into my building feeling all icky and sick.

Then the texts, and calls begin. I find out that this "date" on the 19th is actually his birthday. Who asks a stranger who isn't that into you to be the birthday date? I spend most of the week ignoring the calls and responding to the text as seldom as possible. It gets worse when I find out from E that Elliot told E's boy that he felt like we had a major connection and really clicked. What. What. Whatttttt is this!?

"Elliott, No." Is the new punchline between me, my sister and my Mom. It's the 2010 version of "Scotty, Don't" that SM and RSJ coined in 2007.

Thing is, I don't know how to get out of the date on the 19th. Yea, thats on Friday. I don't want to be a bitch, but I am not going. I like, cannot go. I feel so bad that my drunk ass somehow made this boy feel like he'd met his future wife. Even worse.... if he didn't lay it on so thick and scare me so much we could have at least been friends. my best guy friend Karl is going to be in town on the 19th, so I'm hoping I can somehow use that as a valid get-out-of-date-free card.

In this scenario, I am the dope. All night I thought I was runnin things. And end the end I got knocked the fuck out.

just to clarify...

I've been posting pictures as regularly as possible to facebook (even though I am starting to really not like it, too many bells and whistles...). As many of you know, I'm really bad at tagging pictures or writing captions because it's time consuming and I never know what to say in the captions. I realize the confusion that causes when stalking pictures because obviously people are on the look out for pictures of my new friends, and specifically this new boy, am I right.

a couple things that I died over:

8:20pm---

"Your lack of captions is making it hard for me to tell if the new guy is in your facebook album"

-- Bex, via text

And from Facebook--

BKE, EC, and Bex have inspired me to clean up my act on facebook, most definitely. And, just for the record:

-- The Banker doesn't "understand" facebook or myspace (I don't get myspace either....) So he doesn't have one, doesn't want one, literally is clueless about it. Furthermore, he thinks he isn't photogenic, so he doesn't like candid shots... or posing for them. AND, lets be honest, he knows what girls like us (me?) do with pictures... send them to other people, obv.

He is well versed on just about every friend I've ever had and is very set on making a good first impression, so if you ever call me and I'm with him, he most likely will want to talk to you, or pass some message through to you. Meeting my friends is something he takes pretty seriously (he doesn't get how a pictures doesn't equate to meeting, haha) So much that he was planning a trip the weekend SM visits and is currently trying to reschedule. he knows my friends = family to me, and to win with me, you gotta win with them! The feeling is mutual though, I am scared to meet his mom, didn't meet a couple of his friends one night b/c I had beast of a zit... silly girl stuff, but real stuff none the less.... Ok, that was a super long sidebar. my b.

There is one picture of him on facebook. (Please see exhibit A) His camera shyness is clearly in a conflict of interest for me, because I'd pose for a picture at the drop of a hat. So, please, imagine this BSS scenario:

Monday Night: The Banker and I have just gotten back from this cuban place where we were having drinks. E isn't home yet and so we beat her there. (E and the Banker are pretty much BFF, just fyi) Oops-- backstory: my mother is totally dying over the lack of info she has on the banker. I mean, i divulged all his "looks good on paper" info, but I had no picture and she had no like visual. So earlier that night she's all like "snap a picture! " and I'm like... "um... ok." (read: "um... no.")

ok, back to real time: So E gets home and is on the phone as she walks in 5 min later shes like "so.... our mom wants you to take this picture so I can send it to her." Die. Seriously, I DIE at that moment. Like, WHO DOES THAT?! ahhahaha it was just like, wow. So he debates for a while, (blazer, no blazer. smile, no smile) After about 15 minutes of E explaining a Southern Mother, he caves. And we pose for the grainiest, low budget, shit picture on earth. My mom loves it, however, and E had a great time torturing the kid. It was all in all hilarious though. SM is coming to visit me in a couple of weeks and I've already begun prepping him for the paparazzi like photo sessions that occur among old friends/drunken sorority girls. We'll see how he does. I assure you, despite the shit hole quality picture a couple of you received, the guy is a freakin Dime. Like.... pretty much regularly when I'm with him I'll be chatting and then I'm like "oh word?? I seriously am hanging with this Dime?"

So. Thats the story behind the lack of pictures (the the confusing pictures of me and other boys) I pretty much promise that the minute I get him in a legit, taken-with-a-real-camera picture, I'll share. Best guy friend Karl met him a couple of weekends ago... and according to SM and Grace, he knows his first sighting was very important to those back home... so, in the mean time, just ask him hahaha.

Exhibit A-- My girl KB was just snappin pictures at The Heights one night. There is a montage of ones similar to this one, all hilarious, but you can see how well the harmless candid shots picture turned out...

(he isn't that short, he's just sitting on a bar stool and I'm sort of standing up on my stool)

The journey to New York part 1

As predicted, there was gonna be some serious BS shenanigans going on for this trip. I knew it. So, Here we go. SM and I went out for Grace's birthday the Saturday night before. We planned to only stay out til 12. as usual, at 12 we were heading to another bar. We get all mixed up between Kashmir and Sullivans, and end up meeting Denny and Courtney for a drink at thee latter. We don't leave Raleigh til 1:30 or so. go fig. So I get home and pack/weep til 3am. I wake up at 6:30, take my last shower shower at home, and pack the last of it up. best-guy-friend Karl is coming over at 9 to pick up the Uhaul and drive me to Washington DC. BS-Senanigans #1: best-guy-friend-Karl is supposed to have his best friend Lucas help load the truck. For reasons way to irritating to explain, Lucas backs out. Awesome. Rude, thoughtless little pig. I start to freak. I am litterally driving, texting and calling at the same time. I am cash poor on a Sunday, looking for some loser willing to make a quick buck by loading my crap. The guy who cuts my parents grass (and who i've know since I'm 5) comes through in the clutch. He gets the car loaded up with Karl in 25 minutes. The only casualties of the pack were: my nightstand (broken), my bookshelf (left behind), and my big house plant (I still can't talk about it because I'll cry). Karl and I get on the road at 12:05. He doesn't follow my GPS at first and is U-turning all up in this bitch like we're in a sedan. but I digress. The ride was with no complaint. I organized my blackberry, screamed at Karl for texting-not-driving, and played a rousing game of F,M, or K. BS-Shenanigans #2: as we enter the city (all of 4 miles from E's apartment) we miss our turn and go down 17th street. Surprise! 17th street is a "no truck zone" so we see that sign... and see all the construction and our country asses assume they are talking about Mack trucks, dump trucks, idk, bulldozers.... We see a cop turn behind us and Karl and I joke about how much it sucks to hear those sirens come up behind you. 3 minutes later? Woop Woop Woop. we get pulled. not by the DC Metro cops but by the true life, no lie SECRET mugfug SERVICE. yup. blah blah blah it sucked, I was stressed, Karl was calm... but they give him a ticket for the moving violation, $75.00 and 2 points on his license. Sucks, but no biggie, right? Wrong. Karl already has an inappropriate amount of points on his license because of past bad behavior. So. Thats great. Karl, you're going to G-D jail.

We get to DC, our professional movers get everything in the truck and it's beautiful.

E, my mom and I go binge eat at our favorite mexican spot, go home, to sleep. All thats left in the apartment are 2 cots (which I brought from NC). So, somehow here I am with my no meat having hips or ass, sle

eping on hardwood floors. Somewhere at 5am I switch to the cot. We left

for NYC at 9:15 on Monday morning, and I'll have to continue the story a little later.

(pictures are of me pumping gas in the Uhaul in Dinwiddie, Va,

the effing price to fill up the truck, and 2 pictures of the back of the profe

ssional movers

truck, sunday

night (look at my pretty plant there in the bucket!)