same as it ever was

So, there is officially going to be a Sex and the City movie. Anyone who knows me at all is aware that I have been completely obsessed with the show for years. It’s pretty much the only thing I watch.

The original cast will be back, which is rad…but it makes me nervous. I mean…can this movie change the way I felt about the end of the series?

Ok, I’ll shut up about that now.

In other news, I’m going to New York soon / trying to work a lot and save some bling. Also, my second column ran in the Sun-Times Friday and my 3rd (along with a feature story) will run next week. It’s pretty badass. My mom called me up crying yesterday…which is ridiculous. But it was cute anyway.

Last night was another landmark: My opinion of the male species managed to get even LOWER. I for one didn’t think it could get any lower, but oh it did.

Let’s start at the beginning:

Last week, I got off a 3-day working spree and went to the Grafton to pick up my tips after work at the paper. Instead of going home and sleeping like I originally planned on doing, I drank. Heavily.

I was at the Grafton from about 5 p.m. until 1 something. A dude I dated briefly/still hang out on with on friendly terms sometimes met up with me later. Before he arrived, a regular, let’s call him D, came up to me…equally drunk…and said that I should have sex with him.

Now, I have always liked D. He seemed like a nice guy. He’s Mr. Buff/tall/conventionally attractive dude. I’m not normally into that. I said that I had someone meeting me and that I really try to avoid casual sex. He persisted. I left.

During the week, I mentioned the incident to a coworker. She informed me that he was engaged.

Yesterday, I was working and he came in as he does every Friday. He would NOT STOP touching me when I was walking by carrying trays, coming up to the waitress station, and trying to talk me into fucking him.

The conversation went something like this:

D: We could have a good time. I’m 6’3.
Me: Yeah, it’s not going to happen.
D: Why are you going to play me like that?
Me: Well, you are engaged first of all. Second of all, I don’t even know you. Third of all you are being pretty obnoxious right now.
D: I mean, I’m not really engaged.
Me: You are all the same.

This went on for several minutes. I went from trying to be polite to being furiously angry. I ultimately turned away and started violently entering shit into the computer. I looked up and said “ Listen, I always thought you were a good guy. Don’t ruin that.”

He stormed off and said “We aren’t fucking cool.”

So, basically, he is pissed because I won’t fuck him even though he is engaged.

Not to blow my wad when it comes to my opinions of men (I’ve been trying not to get into it lately) but I am so fucking sick of the entire situation.

I sometimes wonder why I have no luck with men, but the fact of the matter is that I am not ready to settle and I really don’t care about being alone. I work 60+ hours a week. I don’t have time nor patience to go through the hell that is dating a man.

I’m tired of guys who are emotionally unavailable, self-involved, only want sex, have no ambition, and while that list is a compilation of the boys I’ve had the pleasure of dating in the past, I decided that one thing is more important than anything else: I want someone who wants to be with me. Someone who gives a fuck that I exist, someone who puts in some fucking effort once in awhile. I don’t care how cool you think you are or how smart and amazing you think you are. I’m tired of wasting my energy on these people who can’t even be considerate of me in small ways.

So, yeah. That’s that. No more exes. No more going backwards. I have been doing well in my life. I work hard and I think it’s (finally) paying off. I have wonderful friends and an amazing family.

What have I been missing?

Absolutely nothing.