An oldie, but a goodie

It’s going to be a tough week; I may be gone for some time. I have to fly to Florida tomorrow – Fort Lauderdale to be precise - to spend 3-4days with my new-ish client (2months on the biz). I know I know what you’re thinking…”Florida? You have to go to Florida. Oh my heart just bleeds for you, you poor thing.”

I know, there could be worse places to have to travel on business, but kids, I’ll be stuck in a conference room in back to back meetings, not lounging about on the beach with a cabana boy rubbing suntan lotion into my back. How evil is that, to send me to Florida and then keep me locked up in a chuffing conference room? They’ve done that to me before, they sent me to a conference in Miami, at the National Hotel of all places, where the conference rooms cruelly overlook the glittering and inviting pool. Bastards!! I kept staring longingly out of the window while some geek droned on about data standardization. I didn't learn a thing. So, despite the lovely location, I’m not looking forward to the trip at all. However one thing that did cheer me up immensely this morning was when they played this song on Radio 1. I love it to pieces. I almost grabbed Jose from the cube next door for a dance.

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did!!

Men...step away from the lycra!!!

Walking home through Central Park yesterday afternoon I was most distressed by the sight of a tall, plump, French cyclist man buying a bottle of water from one of the vendors close to East 72nd St. Aforementioned male was wearing stretchy lycra all in one pale grey short shorts number that was so so so very tight that each testicle was visibly lifted and separated!!

My poor poor poor eyes. The image is burned on my retina

I could tell he was French, because he was calling - in French of course - to two women who were walking away from him (I wonder why). I suspect the women were his wife and daughter. How they could have allowed him to leave the house dressed like that I'll never know.

So much for French style!!

I pilfered the above photo from http://krisalis.org/weblog/?p=1483. Attractive isn't it!! My apologies if you were eating!!

Diving back into the dating pool

I had a date this week, my first since breaking up with GS - or Gobshite as I affectionately refer to him – almost exactly a year ago. In fact today, it’s EXACTLY 52weeks to the day that he dumped me over lunch in Bryant Park. Happy days :-)

GS and I met in salsa class in the autumn of 2005 and became close friends pretty much immediately. Like me he was a foodie, a movie buff and a HUGE fan of Eddie Izzard. He made me laugh like no-one else could and we’d hang out until the small hours every week after dance class. I had many a midweek hangover to blame on late nights out with him - he was a restaurant manager, so his ‘weekend’ was Wednesday and Thursday – and it was no surprise when I had my annual review at work that my boss said that he felt I hadn’t really progressed much in the past year. Ooopsie!! I didn’t really care about my career; I was having the time of my life.

After a couple of months hanging out together GS made it very clear he was attracted to me. I was surprised and told him that although I loved spending time with him I wasn’t sure I was interested in him in that way. He was disappointed, but we continued to hang out and have a lot of fun together. Looking back I suspect he was just biding his time until I changed my mind, and change my mind is exactly what I did. Towards the end of May last year GS and I started dating.

For the first couple of months everything was rosy. He was such a gem that not a day went by when I didn’t feel like smacking myself in the head for not taking a chance on him sooner. Unfortunately my bliss was short lived and in the third month of us seeing each other things rapidly went downhill. He began to distance himself and at times became downright petulant. To this day I’m not sure what happened because he clammed up and refused to talk to me about it - this being the man who often said that the best thing about being with me was that we could talk about anything. Things came to an abrupt end in late August when he invited me for lunch in Bryant Park. When I walked up to kiss him hello he turned his head so that my lips met his cheek and told me we needed to talk.

Uh-oh!!

Suddenly lunch didn’t sound so appealing, so I ordered just a coffee - it was a great day for the muffin top, not so great for my emotional well being. He got as far as ordering a roast beef sandwich on ciabatta bread with grilled red onions, radish slaw and black pepper aioli only to loose his appetite after one bite. A shame because it looked delicious, even I, the pseudo veggie (fish only, no meat, well okay, except for the pork buns at Momofuku Ssam Bar…and…um…a bacon sarnie every Christmas. Ok, ok, I admit it, I’m a complete sham of a pseudo vegetarian), was almost tempted to have a nibble. A bit more luxurious than a slice of cheese between 2 bits of bread and a dawb of Branston pickle eh. That’s because Bryant Park has been celebrity chef-ed by Tom Colicchio, of Top Chef fame (LOVE that show) and there are 4 of his 'Wichcraft booths dotted along the west side of Bryant Park selling gourmet sandwiches, soup, salads, ice cream and coffee. I highly recommend it for lunch if you’re ever in New York during the sunnier months. Bryant Park is a beautiful place to sit and eat; it has free wi-fi too, so you can blog whilst there, should that be your want. I love being there, it’s a total New York moment for me, although at the time it was somewhat spoiled by the fact that GS choose it as the location for the break up. I felt odd going anywhere near there for the following few months, that is until I came to my senses and decided to reclaim it for myself. I’d say about 90% of my visits to Bryant Park over the last seven years in New York have been in the 12months since the break up. I’ve been there so often it’s definitely mine. I’m a couple of visits away from sticking a flag in the lawn ;-)

Anyway, back to my break up lunch in the park. The conversation went a little something like this…

GS: I think we need to take a step back from our relationship.

Me: Are we breaking up?

GS: No, no, it’s not a break up; it’s just a…a…well, a stepping back.

Me: It sounds a lot like a break-up to me. If it’s a break up why don’t you just call it that?

GS (Irritated): No no no! It’s not a break up; I just need to have a break from us for a while. I can’t be sexual right now; I need to focus on my career.

Hmmmm!!! Focus on his career!! Right! My arse it was a stepping back, this, my friends, was a fully fledged break up without a shadow of a doubt. Why couldn’t the wanker just be honest with me? I know why, because if he told me outright he was breaking up with me then he’d feel like the bad guy. Better to just let me read between the lines and work it out for myself. Fuckwit!! Why don’t men realise that leaving women hanging like that, wondering whether this is the end of the relationship or whether there could be a reconciliation, being cowardly instead of being upfront, is EXACTLY what makes them the bad guy!! Why don’t they understand that???

At the time, my opinion of the break up was that it was less about me and more about the stress he was under – he’d recently moved into a new apartment, taken on some new responsibilities at the restaurant and was anxiously awaiting the New York Times to come and review the place – they didn’t visit until almost 9-10months later. The review was published on my birthday of all days. Naively I thought he might come to his senses after a few weeks and call me. Seriously, the man spent close to 6months chasing me only to dump me after 3months when he finally got me. Of course he didn’t come to his senses at all, but about 10months later I finally came to mine.

I know what you’re thinking, you're thinking “TEN MONTHS???” Are you fucking kidding me? You only dated for 3months and you wasted 10months getting over him!! No actually I’m not kidding you, it really did take me that long to get over the horrid little twirp, although when I say it took me that long I don’t mean that during those 10months I was walking around wailing and gnashing my teeth at the unfairness of being dumped. That’s not the case at all. I was fine, I got out, I was busy, I did things, but I say 10months, because it’s taken me that long to feel like I’ve 100% moved on. I no longer feel any anger towards him for his cowardice or pretence at friendship; I’m certainly not shedding any tears, in fact the strongest reaction you’re going to get out of me with regards to GS these days is a shrug. I no longer dream of running into him on the street and giving him a sharp kick to the goolies. Those days are happily behind me.

However it does take me a while to move on, even from the shortest of flings. It’s just the way I am. I recently read an interview with the French actress/director Julie Delpy where she said "I’m very romantic. I suffer tremendously for love," and I immediately thought 'me too'. I feel such crushing disappointment when things don't work out the way I hoped they would, but I know it's part and parcel of life and I deal with it, but in my own time, and I have to say that one of the things that needled me most about the break up was not losing my boyfriend, but the reactions of some of my close female friends. Friends who in all other aspects are completely wonderful and supportive, they'd be there for me in a heartbeat, but when it comes to getting over a break up...well they most definitely come from the 'pull yourself together' school of tough love.

Six weeks after being dumped I had dinner with one of those girlfriends at Mexican Radio restaurant downtown on Cleveland Place.

"How are you feeling?" She asked

"Oh still a bit up and down about things" I replied.

She looked at me in disbelief.

"STILL!!!! You’re still upset? How long has it been now, a month?? I can’t believe you're still upset??"

“Well, yes actually I AM still upset. Our romantic relationship may have been brief, but I had expected it to last a bit longer than 3months. I honestly thought he was a good friend and as such I thought he may have been a bit more invested in making it work. I was very close friends with him for almost a year, so yes I do think it’s going to take me more than 6weeks to feel like I’m fully over him and I can do without the judgment from people who are supposed to be my friends thank you very much. It’s not as if I’m walking around with a face like a slapped arse, I’m keeping busy and hanging out with friends, throwing myself into work, but it's going to take me a little while and if you ask me how I am feeling I am going to tell you the truth. Do I say to you ‘oh wow, you really got over that broken engagement quickly, two weeks, that must be some sort of record, what are you, some sort of heartless bitch?’ No! Of course I don’t, I’m supportive like a friend should be, so don’t sit there and judge me just because I take a little longer to get over breakups, okay?”

Of course I didn’t say anything of the sort. Instead I just sat there feeling worse about myself. Marvellous!! Trying to get over a break up is bad enough without knowing that some of your friends think you're pathetic.

I don’t know about you, but I can’t just will someone out of my head. I just have to wait for the day when I wake up and think, 'oh, I haven't thought of so-and-so for ages. Wow. I'm completely over him.' I can't force that day, but I do my best to try to distract myself from thinking of a recent ex by keeping as busy as humanly possible. Unfortunately I found that even as long as 6-months post break-up GS would occasionally pop into my head unexpectedly and I’d find myself brushing away tears. Lucky for you if that's not the case in your life, but please, no judgments towards those of us who have a bit more trouble moving on.

It was completely lost on my friend at Mexican Radio that I wasn’t just upset about the loss of the 3month relationship, but the loss of a friendship that meant an awful lot to me, even if it meant very little to him and was just a means to getting into my knickers. Her contemptuous attitude didn’t help me get over my relationship any quicker, if anything it made me want to distance myself from my friendship with her.

Anyway that was last year and I am happy to say I’ve most definitely moved on and I’ve dived back into the dating pool. In fact tonight I have date #2 with the guy I was out with earlier this week, so who knows. Keep your fingers crossed for me ;-)

Masochism

I can barely walk this morning – noooo not for THAT reason. Honestly, minds out of the gutter you dirty buggers!! Ha I wish. No, nothing so fun, I went to a body sculpting class last night. It was the first time I’d been to the gym in about a month. I’m usually a fairly regular gym goer, but work has been so busy lately that I’ve been in the office until 9 or 10pm every day. Instead of working out I’ve been developing a very close personal bond with the office vending machine. It’s not pretty.

Last night I got the opportunity to leave a little earlier and decided it was high time to get off my lazy arse and get myself to New York Sports Club pronto. I left the office at 6.45pm for the 7pm class at the nearby gym and felt like I was sneaking out of work early. Sigh. I remember the days when I used to leave on the dot of 5.30pm. I miss those days. I’m not by any means a live to work person. My work idol is my previous boss, Kimberly, who when asked about her “5year plan” for her career told her manager that her goal was to work a 4day week. Ha ha. And now she does. She’s got her priorities straight that one. I’d love nothing more than to work 9-5pm everyday, take an hour off for lunch and never work a weekend, but unfortunately that’s not going to happen any time soon, since we’re understaffed and in the midst of a hiring freeze and my conscience won’t let me skip out without making sure everything is done. Sometimes I hate myself for being such a goody two shoes.

Anyway back to the exercise…I’d never been to this particular instructor’s class before, but I knew he must be good from the long line of people waiting to get in. When the preceding class ended there was a near stampede for the door with everyone jostling to get a spot. I squeezed myself in to an available space at the back of the studio and waited for the class to begin.

It was different from the usual body conditioning classes I’ve been to in that we didn’t exercise specific muscle groups in isolation, but rather multiple parts all at once - very efficient - so instead of just doing squats to tone our tushes, we’d squat and then come up and do a shoulder press with alternating leg extensions, or plié squats with bicep curls and heel raises to tone our inner thighs, bums, biceps and calf muscles. There were also no breaks in between, so each exercise flowed into the next. It was hard. The instructor had some sort of name for the type of exercise we did, but I was too busy making up names for him to remember what he called it.

It was exhausting and after 4 or 5 sets of doing combination moves I sneaked a look at the clock. Big mistake, I was dismayed to see it was only 7.20pm. A mere 20minutes of the class had gone by and I was already fit to drop with another 40minutes to go. The girl behind me walked out about half way through, but I stuck it out. Today I’m paying the price. However I ache in a virtuous way, so I think I’ll go back for more punishment next week. I swear my arse is perkier this morning. If I keep taking his class my bum will be so firm I’ll be able to bounce tennis balls off it, should that be my want ;-)

Kathleen Turner just gave me the once over

I think she was admiring my cardigan. I admit, it is very nice. I get a lot of compliments on it. It's a sea foam green Cynthia Rowley number that I got for $40 (bargain) at a sample sale.

Kids, I am ON FIRE with my celeb spots at the moment. First Tim Robbins and now Kathleen, a legend of stage and screen. I didn't twig who it was at first. I recognised her, but I returned her smile because I thought she must be someone I knew from the office - I was right outside the building. Then I realised who it was. She looks different in jeans.

Isn't it weird how you don't always connect where you know celebrities from, but assume you must know them as their faces are so familiar. A friend of mine once greeted Noel Gallagher like a long lost friend when she saw him on Oxford St, in London some years ago - this was at the height of Oasis' fame. She said to him "Oh my God, how are you? I haven't seen you in ages. How have you been?"

Noel apparently played along and told her he'd been doing well and that it was good to see her too.

She walked about 10feet before realising he wasn't some random acquaintance from her local pub. She said she felt like a complete idiot for the rest of the day :-)

Coming to a silver screen near you

There’s much movie making afoot in New York City just now, not that there isn’t always some sort of filming going on, episodes of Law and Order and what not, but the city seems to be especially popular with filmmakers at the moment. According to Gawker.com Simon Pegg (love him) and Kirsten Dunst (hmmm, not so keen) are filming the final scenes of "How to Lose Friends and Alienate People" today, the movie based on Toby Young’s book; Cameron Diaz is apparently lurking in Chelsea filming “What happens in Vegas” and a bearded Adam Sandler was recently spotted shooting scenes for some movie on the Upper East Side. You almost can’t walk 10blocks without coming across a convoy of Haddad’s location trailers and a gaggle of crew and extras huddled around the catering truck and scoffing bacon sarnies.

While the experience of actually seeing New York on the big screen always gives me the chills - pinch me! I can’t believe I live here - it can also be something of a distraction. For me watching a movie set in New York is a bit like watching a film where someone you know, say your aunt, is playing one of the peripheral characters. They’re playing a character that isn’t necessarily critical to the plot, but each time you see the person on screen it distracts you from the action. You can’t help but ignore what the main character is doing, because you’re thinking “hey, that’s my aunt over there in the background.” When I see New York on screen I can’t help but start scrutinizing the location to try and work out which neighbourhood the scene was filmed in. As a result I usually end up missing critical pieces of the plot.

The other thing I find distracting about movies filmed in New York is when the streets I know so well are rearranged for movie making purposes. For some reason I find this incredibly irritating, although why it should matter to me I don’t know since on the whole I'm really very good about suspending my disbelief when watching a film. Realism generally matters not a jot. Take the recent Bourne Ultimatum movie for example - no spoilers here – where I found it perfectly acceptable that Matt Damon (phwoargh) could walk unscathed from a car which had been squished flat by an articulated lorry after a particularly violent car chase. In fact I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid if a T-Rex had suddenly appeared on screen and chased him up First Avenue. Perfectly acceptable. However when Matt walked along 3rd Avenue, passing 48th street and then turned a corner and ended up at Port Authority bus station, well I was ready to throw my shoes at the screen.

"Pht! That’s sooooo unrealistic" I scoffed –"there’s no wayyyyyy you can get to Port Authority from there. You've got to go south 5 or 6 blocks to 42nd Street and THEN go west for 7 avenue blocks before you’ll get to Port Authority Bus Station. It would take at least 20minutes, but they expect me to believe that he can walk one block north on 3rd avenue and arrive there? It’s completely ridiculous. These film people must think we’re idiots."

Ahem!!

....And don’t get me started on that scene in Spiderman 2 – a movie clearly set in New York, Peter Parker lives in Queens for God’s sake - where Spidey stops the runaway train which runs along elevated tracks which the uninitiated no doubt assumed was downtown Manhattan. Errr no!!! In fact there was a collective “WHAT THE …” during that specific scene from me and my fellow New York movie patrons, since although there is indeedio an elevated subway in New York, there is NOT an elevated train that runs between the downtown skyscrapers. THAT particular train my friends would be in Chicago. I may be taking my locations a little too seriously, but folks; I kid you not, that geographical snafu almost ruined the entire movie for me.

Maybe I should see if I can get a job as a New York location scout and sort these movie people out once and for all. Hmmm, now there’s an idea :-)

Photo Credit: Jenny Vee @ Flickr

And to that I say...COBBLERS!!!

So recently I’ve heard a lot of chit chat about this NY Times article which talks about the increasing number of women who order meat as a “strategy” on a first date to impress a man.

What is wrong with these people?

I can understand that there are certain foods to be avoided on the first few dates…Spaghetti Bolognese for obvious reasons – in fact I’d err on the side of caution and avoid anything in the long stringed noodle family entirely. I’ll also concede that it’s probably sensible to avoid garlicky foods, and sushi rolls are not the best, because a) your breath will stink of fish and b) you’ve little choice but to pop those suckers in whole and there’s just no way of looking attractive while chowing down on a sushi roll unless your mouth is the size of Carly Simon’s.

…But choosing to eat steak as a STRATEGY for snaring a man!!!

Purleaze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm guessing these are the same women who bought "The Rules."

Sadly there are men who are apparently suckered. Francesca confessed to reading the wedding pages of the Sunday Times this past weekend – Why oh why? I’d have to be really bored to resort to the wedding pages. Francesca and I may have to have words – and she mentioned a guy who said he was impressed by his new wife when she ordered steak on their first date. He claimed it showed she was adventurous.

Steak = Adventurous!! Uh huh!! Right!!

If this numpty thinks adventurousness is encapsulated by the ordering of a steak then thank God he’s spoken for. Sorry folks, but ordering steak doesn’t say adventure to me, it says you eat meat and potatoes. My Irish ancestors have been doing for years. I’ll tell you what says gastronomic adventure to me….ordering the sheep brains. Now THAT’S adventurous. Of course I may not want to snog you after dinner, but hell I’ll be assured of your pluck!!

.....And the Times PAYS people to write this nonsense??? Tiresome!! Seriously someone at the Times could do to read Witty Writer Gal’s post on common sense. I think someone there might be in need of some. Sigh!!