eekstreetlove

My coworker to me as I was cutting my waffles this morning: One day you’ll be huge, and all...

Wed, 09 Jun 2010 09:47:13 -0400

My coworker to me as I was cutting my waffles this morning: One day you’ll be huge, and all will be right with the world”.

wow

Mon, 10 May 2010 12:28:43 -0400

wow

fuck, chase again. doing the real buffalo tase

Fri, 30 Apr 2010 11:42:00 -0400

fuck, chase again. doing the real buffalo tase

Hanson in NYC!

Wed, 28 Apr 2010 11:03:37 -0400

Yet another Chase inspired post. My genius co-worker came up with yet another way to ruin Chase’s day. We searched high and low for the perfect concert to execute it, and yesterday found it.

HAPPY 5th B-EARTH-DAY BLAKELY!!

Thu, 22 Apr 2010 09:52:00 -0400

HAPPY 5th B-EARTH-DAY BLAKELY!!

i promise that the frequency of Chase making appearances on here...

Wed, 14 Apr 2010 16:06:00 -0400

i promise that the frequency of Chase making appearances on here is not related to any longing emotions. Phil posted this to youtube over a year and a half ago and it recently hit 10,000 views.

"i like the peace in the backseat"

Fri, 26 Mar 2010 17:00:51 -0400

“i like the peace in the backseat”

thanks for finding this chase

Thu, 25 Mar 2010 16:54:00 -0400

thanks for finding this chase

Quick update and some man advice.

Thu, 18 Mar 2010 12:27:00 -0400

I think its only just to state some fresh updates to a few of my former male interactions. Some to revive reputations, and some just to relive. Plus they are random and interesting. But first I’d like to confess my confusion as to why my single goal of casual sex keeps turning into these mild relationships in which I develop lukewarm feelings for these dudes who are all completely different from each other.

I even had Sunday sex (sober!) with a guy after meeting him three hours prior on a Central Park excursion and was then invited on a weekend ski trip happening 4 days later with him. That was early February- I’m still seeing this guy. My male roommate concludes that I have the NFL network in my vagina.

Dating is simple. Act like you don’t care. It’s the oldest advice in existence, but yet girls have such a problem executing it. Want to know why I can keep guys around? Because I actually do not care. For the first month or so, I could usually give a shit less whether I hear from a dude again. And I always do hear from them. But its that moment when you start to care that you need to throw your phone off the subway platform as the 6 train is coming.

I’m also not a slut. Aside from what this blog and my general daily behavior may represent, I’m not (anymore) into the whole meet a dude sloppy drunk at a bar and take him home, or worse, go to his place and sleep in his crusty sperm stained sheets. Not to mention waking up with booze breath and an unexplained black eye.

I prefer to meet my men in completely odd ways, or by dipping into the arsenal of them that I stockpiled while I was still wifed up. O don’t you judge me. You should be doing it too. I don’t sleep with, or even make out with a large amount of people- but the ones that I do I cant seem to beat off with a stick.

This brings me back to these updates. Last night became yet another weekday evening that ended in the early hours of the morning with too much marijuana and someone in our company spitting rhymes. Who was this occasion’s rap star? None other than good old Nicholas from the Sunburnt Cow. Prime example of how I wholeheartedly expect to never hear from a guy again, and then he shows up on my caller ID a month later. Why he called me after I fell asleep (rather passed out) during wine and appetizers at Maialino (yes, the one in Gramercy Hotel), I still haven’t figured out. But why not go out with him? Its not like my photographer fuck-buddy who’s currently being paid to be in Mexico testing pick-up lines on girls at Spring Break for AskMen.com is going to care.

So we met up on the greenest day of the year, with a few friends of mine and a friend of his- a small primordial asian that talked too much. After some beers and shots of Jameson, we headed to switch bars, and actually ended up (wow, big surprise) at his friend’s apartment with a joint. Such a sucker for drugs, Marlena and I. What followed was nothing out of the ordinary to 6 potheads but included chocolate pie, Flip videos, confirmations of a second date and angry religious discourse. Later came 7-11 binging and a taping of two roommates’ observation of a third’s underwear lying inside out in the middle of their living room floor.

I’m actually exhausted, hungover, and at work with a pile of bullshit that needs to be accomplished so I’m cutting this shit short. The other update I am to mention is the repeat return of Sean the Southern Stalker.

February 11th

“Remember me? The cute but crazy guy from back in December. Around your area and thought maybe we could grab some beers. Just as friends to catch up, interested in seeing how your new year’s in Australia went.”

Good memory, nice. And he was cute but sorry buddy, no. I’m interested in the path his brain took in deciding to send me that text. Did he consider probability of response? How about loss of dignity or blow to ego?

Before this, but after the psycho explosion, he did send what I guess can be considered an apology text, but still managing to blame a little bit of the situation on me.

December 18^th

“I know I was a bit too much after one average date, but I wanted to quickly redeem myself for the boring one. I don’t think you sent off the right signals either because I got them all mixed up. Now I just look like an over eager fool. Oh well. Take care cutie.”

I didn’t send off any signals idiot. This I responded to just to curb my own guilt (again): “Sorry it didn’t work out but I with you luck in new york. Have a happy holiday”

Once again, proud of my actions and loving this life.

Photo

Wed, 17 Mar 2010 11:00:13 -0400

typical friday allstaff email picture

i used my sweet photoshop skills

chase mad this pic of him still exists

the final blow

An attempt to turn the emotional and physical hazard of an new...

Tue, 09 Mar 2010 23:11:01 -0500

An attempt to turn the emotional and physical hazard of an new york snowstorm into the future memory of what our current youth entails- sex booze and stupidity

chat roulette dot com

Mon, 22 Feb 2010 12:14:39 -0500

I was introduced to this delirious attempt at a new social networking medium on the same day it seems as the rest of the population. It wasn’t via the New York Times article that had everyone else going mad over its general premise, rather an equally adventurous friend of mine who passed over the link with a confusing word of caution: “its like rapid fire video chat with random strangers. People are weird, naked, or on drugs”. So do I get my choice of weird, naked, or on drugs?

After witnessing what the site really is about, I’m shocked at the lack of effort required to participate in this virtual fiesta. Just type in the URL, click ‘Play’ to begin this so-called “game”, and instantaneously you are face to face with a complete and utterly disturbed stranger staring back at you seething with a sense of self-normalcy that you can’t really make sense of. It made me feel funny inside like nothing on the internet has before. Even more than guyswithiphones.com

Having absolutely no hesitation to investigate sites such as the above (which was introduced to me by my gay co-workers in the first place) at work, I URL’d the shit out of the link and was brought to an under nourished site with little to offer on the information front. You don’t really have a clue what you’re supposed to do, or what you’re supposed to expect. The site took forever to load, which I now attribute to the NYT article bringing an influx of curious East Coasters. Here I was thinking I was for once ahead of a new media trend, and frustrated with the constant crashing of my browser because of my own curiosity, when in fact I was only as cool as the 600,000 online readers that visited the NYT.

I was persistent in my efforts and estimate that I used approximately 83 minutes of my company’s time (spread out thoroughly) attempting to get a better gage of what the fuck this site’s objective was. When I was actually able to connect with other users (about once every 6 browser restarts), I almost (almost) regret it.

My first friend was a mid-life gentleman, sitting in a small room with a dingy white wall behind him. He had a borderline (and I’m sure accidental) handle-bar mustache. Visions of cold, lonely middle America flashed and danced in my mind as assumptions of a pimpled pale pot belly and a piece of neon shaded lawn furniture as a desk chair became a reality.

I quickly hit ‘Next’. My insides jumped again as a young boy, who I’m not convinced hits the required age restriction of 16, dropped in on my screen. I didn’t stay on any person for more than a second or two, and hid half of my face off-screen on account of the dramatic level of discomfort I felt. This discomfort stemmed from not only these whackjobs having a goggle at my face, but also my third arrival who was whacking off, stark naked and standing, right into his webcam.

So what’s the point? Better yet, where does whoever developed this site think it’s going? And how in the world do they think it’s going to become anything more than a brief internet sensation in which people like me write 1000 words on what a valiant contribution the creator has made to the unceasing destruction of society, youth and human relationships?

Marlena: “Why does this make sense?”

Tue, 16 Feb 2010 16:00:28 -0500

Marlena: “Why does this make sense?”

Stop making lists about what you want to do with your life and fucking do it Heather

Thu, 11 Feb 2010 12:04:39 -0500

Stop making lists about what you want to do with your life and fucking do it Heather

Remembering why I liked to be single

Tue, 02 Feb 2010 21:54:00 -0500

Being single is fun. At least i think its fun. I’m aware that there are human females who would disagree with that but they must just not be as good at it. Having said that, I in no way believe my behavior this weekend was the best display of my single skills. But it was a fucking good time.

I should have known one like this was coming. Yea, i’ve been getting plastered three to five days a week, but not to a potentially embarrassing point (ok, there was that one blizzardy-literally blizzardy!- night). But I can say it: I was shameful and borderline cringeworthy depending on you speak to, all three nights.

Friday started with an elegant work happy hour. Wait not elegant, nevermind. Beers and dark liquor with my equally shameful coworkers. Nothing out of the ordinary- just a regular 6pm bingefest. Not knowing where the rest of my night would take me, I opened myself up to the idea of going to Brooklyn with a few of them to see a show and celebrate a birthday. Officially convinced I was when one of my co worker’s roommates showed up to attend. I’ve had a mild crush on him going on two years now. It couldn’t have been set up for me any better by my wonderful colleagues, including actually leaving us behind to catch our own cab all the way to BK. Unfortunately, I was already 29 sheets to the wind, and blew it within the first three minutes. Not one witty, intelligent, or flirty thing came out of my mouth. I don’t remember a word that was said, just the awkward unnecessary silence that played out for approximately 17 minutes.

It didn’t get any better after that. I’m fairly certain that my eyes were closed most of the time we were in the venue and I’m still not sure if what we went to see was a DJ, techno artist, or folk band. My original intentions were to sleep in Brooklyn (roommate’s bed?), but I think that option was left in Manhattan a cab ride earlier. I was convinced to take a shot of tequila, shook my booty a little off beat, and contemplated suicide before my dear, lovely coworker Marcus kindly led me from the scene, took me to get breakfast food, put me in the most desirable method of transportation and hit the trunk three times to signal I was ready for take-off.

A $30.50 cab ride up the entire east side later, I was being poked by my driver (nicely, I’ve definitely been poked hard by a cab driver) outside of my apartment.

That is all I remember…

The next morning, I had yolk on my coat, a voicemail from my mom, was missing my chapstick, and I felt an apology text was in order. “Marcus, im sorry im such a mess”. That should do, right?

My next human communication was stalking Emily in the form of multiple phone calls before the PM hit. We had drinking plans ok. Upon finally reaching her, I had the standard long conversation and decision process that Emily is always willing to have and is in sooth pretty much demanding of. We decided on the Sunburnt Cow, a popular brunch ground with $18 entrée and all you can drink. Faulty advertising because at 7:30pm the bartender insisted I start paying for drinks again. We headed to the Crocodile Lounge shortly after with my new friend Nicholas, to meet up with a few other gents we picked up in our 6-hour bender at the Cow. That bender also included 4 company changes (just Emily- Emily and Kelsey- just Kelsey- Marlena and Kelsey- just Kelsey again). Before Emily departed she stayed for an extra 2 hours which led to her passing out and missing her babysitting gig that night. Before Marlena departed she scribbled my number on a piece of paper and gave it to the aforementioned emo bartender. Hearts and smiley faces certainly included. Thanks for potentially ruining my new brunch spot Marlena! And thank you Kelsey for staying with me.

Overall I give the Sunburnt Cow a sexy pinch in the ass. Great staff, prices, and clientele, but it was goddamn time to move on. The CL was a good idea for about the first 2 beers. Then came closed-eyed blackout Heather who apparently can pull off not closed-eyed blackout Heather for quite a period of time, as I managed to take Kelsey back to her apartment (Nicholas in tow) and get myself invited to a nice restaurant where I distinctly remember eating artichokes and sipping wine. Totally normal and necessary.

That’s all I remember…

I woke up this next morning with a photobooth strip in my bag incorporating myself, Kelsey and the complete menagerie of men we collected through the evening. What I also found in my bag was my cell phone (thank god) with a special text message reading “Had a good night. Get home safe. Be careful you are wasted”. Nicholas!

I also thought I lost my beanie that I wore all day Saturday mostly because I hadn’t showered and didn’t plan to. I would later find that on the pillow of my male roommate’s bed before remembering that was in fact where I originally woke up. Time: 6:12am?

Easily convinced by Marlena, I responded to old St. Nick with an unintelligent (but funny) counter-fact going something like: “No sir. You were wasted”. Time: 1:25pm.

His mind-blowing response that took my already fucked up weekend to a whole new level? “I probably was, but you fell asleep a couple of times at the Gramercy Hotel. Glad to see you made it home”

Let’s dissect…

Last time I checked “a couple” meant more than one. And last time I checked the Gramercy Hotel was a pantsy scene for the likes of Richard Gere and Posh Spice- a pantsy scene to which I had never explored. I then asked Nicholas the only logical thing I could think of: “Did you think it was a good idea to take me to the Gramercy hotel?” it took him an hour after that to come up with “I don’t know”. He should be embarrassed, not me.

Several hours and a $40 Big Daddy’s order later, it was dark outside again so Marlena and I did the only normal thing for two single New Yorkers to do on a Sunday evening such as this and went to Brother Jimmy’s to catch the end of the Terps game. She REALLY wanted to watch that game, so sue me. What we actually ended up catching was the unexpected attention of 5 male models. At Brother Jimmy’s on the UES? Magic.

Confusing entertainment became the theme of the night. We were hard pressed to get wit or intelligence out of them, but they were raucous and smoked cigarettes which just happened to be the theme of my weekend. A little before midnight and several uncalled for rounds of alcohol later (shut up it’s still Sunday) we decided a doobie and some tunes were in order and headed to one of their apartments around the corner. I had been flirting with the only non-model most of the night, and may have shared a classy kiss or two at the bar. He was actually smart, with an awesome job with Sunday Night Football. Plus smoking hot. This may not stick out as an obvious fact given my actions so far, but this dude was my only actual kiss of the whole weekend. I couldn’t possibly bring myself to make this public if it had been more than that…

So, we’re high. Hanging out with attractive dudes. Watching Happy Gilmore. Marlena is literally rapping the plot of the movie while the guys translated her rhymes into a Chinese-Russian combo language. Pictures were snapped and Budweiser tallboys were consumed. After things settled down, Marlena began to doze off and I decided 3am was the perfect time to go home, so we headed out. NFL boy was also going home and walked out with us. The door to his apartment shut behind us at about the same time the door to Marlena’s dignity did. A bit dazed and drunk, she began to gag and spew her Jack Daniel’s onto the floor of this photogenic male’s hallway. As she was blocking the stairs, all non-model and I could do was stand there, somewhat support her behavior, and wait for her ability to stand up straight to kick back in. I can’t make this shit up.

*Editor’s Note: I allowed Marlena to preview this before posting, and she’d like me to clear up that she wasn’t dozing off, she was holding in vomit. I assured her the former was less embarrassing, but she has insisted. “Don’t make me look like a loser. Cuz I ain’t.”

When we finally made it out, Mars got in a cab that began to honk impatiently as I was exchanging phone numbers (and kissing?) boy. If only it weren’t a Sunday…

That’s all I remember…

Monday I went to work. On time. Swollen eyes and in a slight giggle fit that would throughout the day and unexpectedly become sheer rage. I also found out from the lovely Marcus that I fell asleep at the diner on Friday night as well…”a couple if times”.

That’s all I remember…

In the sad reality that is my life, I actually spent my weekend being a bad mom to my dog, body and bank account. Worth it? Blakely and my parents would probably say no, but hey, shit happens when you party naked.

"What are you gonna do? tell mom and dad that i uploaded your dick sucking list to facebook?"

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 10:31:15 -0500

"What are you gonna do? tell mom and dad that i uploaded your dick sucking list to facebook?"

“This tear-jerking video comes courtesy of the Opie and...

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 02:04:00 -0500

“This tear-jerking video comes courtesy of the Opie and Anthony Show on SiriusXM radio. The footage was shot after the show’s producers enlisted a homeless man, Daniel Mustard, to voice over a promo then found out he could sing. Here Mustard does an acoustic version of Radiohead’s Creep with a slightly different take on the vocal phrasing and years and years of pathos in the delivery.”

Mustard Sings Creep

The downside to dating

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 11:27:19 -0500

So in my new single conquest of tackling the male population in this lonely city, i’ve come across the good, the bad, and the just downright heinous examples of the specimen. Below i outline the interaction (not exactly mutual) of one poor Southern soul that i ‘man-ate’ apparently, after only one date. We’ll call him ‘Sean’…

I met Sean on a Thursday night after hours of drinking for the final week of our dodgeball league. He had played the entire season, yet i only managed to meet him once before- the first week when my male roommate urged me to discuss typically lame and generic topics with him. I was not having it.

So i guess something was different by week 8 (maybe it was me having been single for 2 months now, rather than one week). Besides his Asic sneakers, his face resembled Liev Schreiber pretty strongly. Yada, yada, yada- we ended up playing beer pong together and making out on my front stoop. Then it all started…

Friday, December 4th, 1:03am

Sean: “I am so attracted to you, i dont even know what to do with myself. I hope to see you soon”

1:25am:

Sean: “At least text me back to let me know you didnt give me a fake number”

*now i thought the second one was a bit odd, given the late time, and the short duration he waited to express his insecurities after the first text, but i let it go…he looks like Liev Schreiber.

8:39am:

Me: “haha it’s not fake. Thanks for walking me home”

5:48pm

Sean: “My pleasure. And anytime. When do i get to see you again?”

Sean: “And i actually sent that message early this morning. Just saw that it has been stuck in my outbox all day hope you had a good day!”

*a bit TMI, but still liked the thought that he didnt wait 10 hours on purpose

6:41pm

Me: “When do you want to see me again?”

Saturday, December 5th

1:58am

Sean: Did you get my messages earlier today?

*ok, i should have taken a sign from this awkward and somewhat retarded beginning text message interaction. But i didnt. It just gets worse.

12:05pm

Me: “Yes, i wrote back! When do you want to see me again”

12:55pm

Sean: “Today”

12:56pm

Sean: “Do you like college football”

1:15pm

Me: “I do but i have plans all weekend. I’m free next week?”

1:19pm

Sean: “Well i guess i will just have to play the waiting game then, haha. Let me know about next week. or if maybe you end up having some free time this weekend.”

*his persistence is somewhat attractive currently.

Monday, December 7th

8:17pm

Sean: “So how was your weekend? When do i get to see you again?”

*it was Monday Night Football and the Ravens were playing so there was no chance of me responding

Tuesday, December 8th

9:56am

Me: “Hi! My weekend was great. Hope yours was also. I’m around tomorrow if you are”

Sean: “I like the sound of that. Don’t go making other plans now, haha. I’ll call you tonight.”

*Yawn

11:35pm

MISSED CALL and Voicemail

Wednesday, December 9th

7:00am

Me totally turned off by said call. After checking voicemail, he regains some points explaining he was out with coworkers and immediately apologizing for calling so late.

11:27am

Sean: “So what are you thinking for tonight? Sushi or mexican? or something else?”

11:42am

Me: “Surprise me. Just make sure there’s beer”

3:44pm

Me: “Did you get my text? I never know with that phone of yours”

3:45pm

Sean: “Yes, i did, and i was going to surprise you. What’s wrong with my phone?”

*ugh if you don’t get my joke, im not explaining it to you

3:47pm

Me: “Well then i’m looking forward to it.”

3:55pm

Sean: “I am as well. Call you around 7”

7:04pm

I receive a phone call from him saying he will meet me at my apartment at 8:15. Picking me up? Fancy!

8:10pm

He arrives.

The rest of the night is a bit of a snoozefest. He’s really cute, and oober nice, but a little boring for me. He even pulled out my chair, took my coat off and ordered for me, which frankly is a long list of things that make me uncomfortable. He took me to sushi, which is not exactly “beer”. As dinner was winding down, he suggested we go grab a drink. I politely declined explaining i should probably get home- my dog doesnt like it when i stay out too late. It was 10:05. He walked me home and obviously expected a kiss given that I’d already played tonsil hockey with him once before. Not a bad kisser, but hung around for a bit too long.

I was up in the air about going out with him again. I mean he was nice, cute, and liked me. What else could i ask for? It didnt take long for my decision to become clear…

Thursday, December 10th

9:58am

Sean: “I had a really good time last night, actually still have a smile on my face. I can’t wait to see you again”

2:03pm (i only waited 4 hours, don’t take a hint or anything)

Me: “Me too thanks for dinner. I’ve saved your number in my phone now.”

4:26pm

Sean: “So that means you really do what to see me again. Another smile on my face”

*So now begins where the shit really starts to hit the fan

Friday, December 11th

3:12pm

Sean: “So how have the last couple days been for you? What kind of trouble are you getting into this weekend?”

*by last couple of days you’re referring to the past 24 hours, right? no response.

Saturday, December 12th

11:38am

INSERT VOICEMAIL

*although i day drank on saturday, i felt bad about not responding or calling back, and after discussing with my roommate thought that i may go out with him one more time and give it a try…until…

Sunday, December 13th

9:51am

Sean: “Was going to call but it’s early. My friend already took off. Where are you watching football today? I want to join if you want me there.”

*ugh. So i respond generically to curb my guilt

1:02pm

Me: “Hey im going to the east village to watch with a friend i haven’t seen in awhile. What are you doing?”

*Brace yourself

1:22pm

Sean: “The question is do you want to see me? I’m supposed to go to brunch and football with some friends in murray hill. Do you want to hang out today?”

1:57pm

Sean: “So i just got a free ticket to the giants game tonight, but i want to see you today. Can we meet up before?”

3:03

Sean: “You guys are doing well. So…do i get to see you? I really want to”

4:47pm

INSERT FUCKING VOICEMAIL. Is this kid crazy? I now have 2 unheard voicemails from him.

4:51pm (yea, that’s right, 4 minutes after the voicemail)

Sean: “I really want to see you, more than i want to go to the game. And i hate to be one of those guys that calls and texts all the time, i know its annoying.”

*o do you, do you really know? I figured that was the last of it, and that i had earned the right not to respond with anything. Just ignore the problem and it will go away.

5:55pm

After exiting the subway station on my way home, i find another VOICEMAIL has come into my phone….from him. Scared to listen to them alone, i enlisted my roommate to accompany me on what was sure to be a frightening 5 minutes. Below are the transcripts…

Saturday, 11:38am

#1: Hey heather this is sean, just giving you a call to see what youre up to today, and maybe tomorrow. my friend is leaving town at like 5:30 or 6 tomorrow. wanted to know if you wanted to hang out then, or maybe monday, or maybe both. so yea, give me a call back or a text and let me know. Yea, i look forward to seeing you again. Talk to you soon.

Sunday, 4:47pm

#2: Hey heather just seeing whats going on. I know you were watching the game int he east village a little earlier but umm give me a call and let me know whats up. IIIII wanna see you tonight. Alright give me a call and i will hopefully talk to you later. Ok, bye.”

Sunday, 5:55pm

#3: Hey there, this is sean once again, It is not very good weather so im no longer going to the game. But i would definitely like to hang out tonight if you want to. Im just watching at my place for now, thought we’d go somewhere, but uhh let me know what you think or maybe watch a movie as well..i dont know…iii just wanna hang out so uh let me know and give me a call back. bye.

*That was not it however. This morning i received the following text message:

8:48am

Sean: “Hey, hope you had a good weekend. Do i get to see you today? Can i interest you with some beer and wings tonight?”

*no you freak, you fucking cant.

This post may be a little harsh, especially because i used his actual name (whoops), but i would have to believe that if a girl conducted herself in any similar way after ONE date, the male counterpart would feel no remorse in exploiting her as a human for the benefit and laughter of his friends. So let this be a lesson to all of you men out there who think this kind of behavior is acceptable. I’m not sure it’s ever gotten anyone a significant other.

i love this dirty town

Tue, 06 Oct 2009 13:01:13 -0400

i love this dirty town

nom nom nom nom

Wed, 09 Sep 2009 10:00:32 -0400

nom nom nom nom