How Chivalry Died...Flush.

SO, I went on a date last night.

Horrific! What the hell happened out there? Dating used to be exciting and fun and where the butterflies in your stomach came from! I used to get such a thrill out of getting dressed and picking the right outfit, making sure my hair was perfect and looking forward to a fabulous evening with an even more fabulous human being.

I'd anticipate new conversations and an exchange of fresh ideas. The whole process of learning all about someone new was just so pleasurably edifying. A different background, a different upbringing, a different neighborhood, a different life. Then the best part always came along when the relationship (if given enough time to flourish) became intimate, and the persons idiosyncracies began to show, and you either loved them more for them or ran for dear life because of them.

Now it seems as though THE GETTING TO KNOW SOMEONE part has been rather quickly replaced with the GETTING TO KNOW MY BEDROOM part. Seems like men want to cut to the chase and just have sex. No intellectual conversation required, no exchange of ideas needed, no last names warranted-- just no-strings-attached- sex. Have common courtesy, decency and simple respect died? Since when has the period between getting to know someone and sleeping with them become so ephemeral?

ALL NIGHT I was being cajoled like baby being motioned to come hither to a rattle. I tried to smile it off, turn away, even roll my eyes but nothing worked! I even brought up POLITICS when he brought up SEX just as a real mood killer but it seems that he found a way to dance around my mundane topic to something a bit more epicurean.

Not to deprecate the once very fun act of dating but it's become a daunting task, unfortunately.

I think that while men were forgetting to put the toilet seat down all these years chivarly was being flushed down the toilet.

satisfied but not full

I'm sitting at Starbucks on Third Avenue and 28th street right now writing up three term papers. I've got my seat facing a window so I can peer outside every so often to help collect my thoughts. My thoughts say I'd rather be outside basking in the sun but then thinking of doing all this work late at night is enough to keep me in.
I've written up two and a half papers so far and am editing my third, so I'd say this was a pretty productive afternoon. I decided to take a small breather and instead of going out for a cigarette, write.
I did quit! It's just that, lately, I've been feeling a bit nostalgic. I can't explain it at all but I just have. I have had no appetite for food whatsoever, it's almost as though I don't even need it. I've had no zest for anything creative, and the only craving is one of nicotine.
Up until Thursday I had not bought a pack of cigarette's since January, and before that since last summer!

They help though. I feel a little better.

But still empty; like the pack I just tossed in the trash.

'Family Guy' sparks druggie attention in Times

Back.

Not that I went anywhere I've been sitting right here the entire time. Doused in the after effects of drug taking. Engulfed in this wrath of drowsiness peppered with this feeling of euphoria. I'm floating, not sitting, at my desk and doodling in my note book. I tried reading the Times but these articles just arn't grabbing my attention today. Except the one about Family Guy, but who doesn't love Family Guy; that little baby is the smartest man on t.v.

Boss is still at conference and I'm still high.

drugged

hello,

@ work right now and not feeling very well. i just popped in two over the counter pills and one prescription (not of my own i might add). effects of drugs definitely kicking in.
results:
1. missing bed
2. finding paper clips very funny looking
3. ?
4. getting sleepy
5. still laughing at paper clips

in any event, i have an exam right after work today. one that i have not studied for due my being born on this past weekend therefore birthday celebrating all weekend long (p.s- inebriated state experienced over past weekend seems to be triggered by massive dosage of OTC pain killers just consumed). then of course on sunday when i plop down to get some serious perusing done it's all of a sudden mother's day!

boss is currently at conference therefore i took free unsupervised opportunity to blog (and OD on painkillers).
however, still missing bed.
contemplating crawling under desk a la George for a quick wink.
Zzzzz

On Palindromes

Palindromes are a funny sort of idea. The thought of being twenty-two at first scared me but it kind of has a nice ring to it.
"Twenty-two", I say , and it just rolls off the back of my mouth and lands right before my two front teeth...twice!
I say it with a little flair, slight lift of the shoulder and maybe a wink, 'cuz it's a pretty cool thing, this palindrome of mine. It's the same front and back, which I think is a little ironic because so is the date that I turned 22; May 5, 2005 or simply: 05/05/05.
Also, this year, my birthday landed on a Thursday, which is the fifth day of the week.
And, I woke up at 5am that morning (I kid you not).

It's sort of like the essence of Pi, except with a 5 instead.
It's prevalence seems to be my lucky number (or just an ubiquitous one at the very least); hopefully it will make for a lucky year ; )

Here's to a fine walk down the road of twenty-two, right off of the luxury of fifth avenue.

Thanks!

My twenty-second birthday (05/05/05), may have quite possibly been the best birthday I have ever had; ever!

I've received the most thoughtful gifts from all of my friends, and some were quite surprising! Everyone who showed up at my party, was a gift to me in and of itself. Just having people there made my night!

I'm dedicating this blog entry to all my friends and everyone who showed up at my gathering last night and who will be at my dinner tomorrow.

You guys are the best friends a girl could have, you made my birthday memorable, and for that
I thank you. Thanks Tina, Olga, Kat, Aracelis, Julia, Christine, Melissa, Nancy, Linsday, Paul, Nick & Sam for one of the most memorable nights I've had.

xoxo,
Maya

the intellectual, the perverse & procrastination

Ahhhh, the past-time of blogging.

I've been so busy lately that I've neglected the one thing that helps keep me sane...writing.

I've been spending most of my nights at Starbucks along with other mocha-loving fiends reading academic articles, the New York Times and writing up college term papers way into the wee hours of the night.....well 1am, but whatever it's late to be out studying at 1am.

While at Starbucks, the one on Astor to be exact, I've gotten to know my fellow latte-drinking counterparts.

There's the smelly guy whose always there after 11 p.m. He walks around in his baggy black attire and 400 bags of what could feasibly be feces and urine judging by the way he smells.

Then there's the pervert, whom I always catch staring at me while I read. No need to look I can feel his intense gaze from the corner of my eye. Even when I try and sit behind a pole he positions his seat exactly so I'm in plain view of his lurid fantasies. The jerk even had the nerve to write me a perverted love letter, spelling out exactly what he'd do for me if I ever gave him the chance.... ugh, asshole. If you're reading this: I hate you.

There's the late-30's man, obviously unmarried and with no children since he spends all his nights glued to his laptop with whatever Venti he's decided to savor for the night. You can count on him to be there religiously, night after night, working on what seems to be the same Excel spreadsheet.

Then there's Nazi Man. Yup an actually Nazi. He's referred to himself as one. He has made blatant & outright racist comments. Insulted one man so bad there was almost a fight right there in the very vicinity. Looks around and snickers at people. Cynical man that nazi. He's sometimes there with his grandfather, but usually there alone. Bitter. With his coffee. And he's not even drinking starbucks coffee, he's drinking the outside kind of coffee with the little "We are pleased to serve you" logo on it with a picture of the Parthenon surrounded by Greek key.

And of course, the smart bum, whose usually there on Sundays but hasn't been around in a while. You can catch him strolling in on a rainy night, plastic yellow raincoat-clad and all announcing his opinionated yet astute comments on the Bush administration.
Pretty bright fellow; it's a shame he's got no home that smart bum.

Finally, there's us. Two, young, care-free twenty-somethings spending hours in our little wooden chairs leaning on little wooden round desks, sipping some way overly-priced, highly over-rated coffee and talking international politics like we really mean it. Sometimes we make fun of Paris Hilton, cuz thats always fun. And we sometimes laugh so loud, that the NYU students start giving us dirty looks, like they can't study or something. Sheesh.

Maybe they just need to laugh with us. Like the smart bum...he laughs when we laugh, makes comments on politics when he overhears a conversation on the topic, and sheds light on the fact that my friend and I just spent 3 hours at a table and still haven't written a word!
Smart guy that bum.