there are some things, like rollercoasters, that are fun and not fun at the same time

The thought is that if he moves into my studio when his lease is up, we’ll save a ton of money. Then we can go on vacation.

And we’d rather see each other every night anyway.

It’s just a thought. It seemed like a great idea.

I didn’t know why butterflies had taken up residence in my abdomen today. At 10:15 pm, I made the connection.

I might throw up.

~beatrix

another puke-tastic installment of the adventures of trix and ted

i wrote this, but wasn't going to post it because it even made me a bit queasy. but i'd hate for harper to run out of those vomit marshmallows. so here goes.


I wiped an eyelash off his cheek and told him to make a wish.

“It’s your turn.”

I can’t tell you what I wished before I blew it off my finger, because then it might not come true.

And I want it to come true.


i could make rice krispie treats myself, but i think i've eaten all the cereal.

~beatrix

are you starting to feel at home?

I count the months off on my fingers in the train on my way home. I’ve been here for one year and nine months.

And I’ve dated a lot of boys. I don’t have enough fingers to count them.

Tonight I went with Julianna to a party where we didn’t really know anyone.

“Have we been here before?” she asked me.
“I think so.”
“With Kris with a K. . .”

It is the same place-- there’s a canoe hanging above the bar.

Kris with a K was the first boy I hooked up with after moving to New York. Jules invited me to dinner with the two of them, we ended up at this bar with the canoe, and Jules said, “I’m going home. You’ll be fine, right?”

It seems like a million and one years ago. It was the day after the first iPhones came out. Kris with a K’s was the first one I’d ever seen. He let me zoom in and out on things.

He was truly beautiful. Skin deep. One of those people who lucks out with a serendipitous mix of ethnic traits. Fully aware of it, too.

I woke up in his bed. He needed to go train for a triathlon or something. Of course. I needed to go home. I was hungover, bedraggled, and couldn’t find my subway. I’d been in the city maybe two weeks. When I finally got on it, I was afraid I was going to hurl.

It was not a shining moment of a night. And now, one year and nine months later, I’m back at the same bar.

It’s happening a lot lately. Boys have smeared their memories all over this city. There’s the place where David started puking because it took him 29 years to realize he’s allergic to pine nuts, the tiny restaurant where I had grilled cheese with Cooper one day before I went to the airport, and the place Prince Charming would take me for pancakes. The bar where I met Sandeep? That’s the second first date I’ve had there. And I’ve had two first dates at a little wine bar and restaurant on the UES-- with Ravi and some guy whose name I’m 90% sure was either Mike or Bill. I keep walking by Gyan’s apartment, not on purpose at all.

I can’t remember all the names or faces, but this city is full of them. New York is not so big at all.

~beatrix

i love sandwiches

I had a really delicious sandwich, which is important when you’ve spent the previous day puking.

I’d felt like I should give Christophe another chance because you can’t talk to people while you are watching movies. And he’s nice, I tell myself. There’s nothing wrong with him.

He laughs too hard when he tells me about a room mate he had who smoked marijuana. He laughs, like, really hard. And that was the whole story: sometimes this guy’s room smelled like. . . marijuana. And. . . um. . .maybe he should never meet some of my friends. Or my boss.

He’s wearing a sweatervest.

The sandwich is good. So is the soup.

He tells me lots of things look good on the menu, and you’d have to come back a few times to try them all. I don’t bite (in a figurative sense, but I’m doing lots of literal biting. I was so hungry).

I tell him I need to go because I have to stop at the grocery store on my way home. He offers to help me with my groceries, but I assure him I’ll be fine.

We walk. He wants to know if I want to have dinner Friday. I don’t want to commit, just in case Gyan wants to see me. I feel bad, but I lie. I tell him I think I have a going-away party for one of the interns at work. I am pretty sure the party is on Wednesday, but I say I don’t know when it is.

I need to turn right for the grocery store; he needs to turn left for the train. He hugs me, so I hug him back. And he plants a big kiss on my cheek.




I wander around in the grocery store for a while and leave with only a loaf of bread and one apple.



~beatrix

gyan

[B: I didn’t go to work and it might have been because I was sick and it might have been because I was hungover.
H: Haha. How was the date?]

I timed it perfectly, so when I got there, he was sitting at the bar, facing the door.
“You look lovely,” he told me.
That immediately became my compliment of choice.

[B: Really good. He was cute and really nice and we talked about things like puppies and we had drinks for over 3 hours.]

Somewhere near the end of my second glass of wine, he put his hand on mine. He narrowed his eyes, and said, “You’re cute.” I hate being called cute, but he says it and I don’t mind.

[B: And he kissed me, but I only let him kiss me a little.]

It was a good kiss. I wanted more, but after a few seconds, I turned my head and gave him my cheek.

[B: And then he walked me to my subway, and he let me wear his jacket.
H: Wow. Very cute. What does he do? Let me guess-- finance?
B: Hedgefund. He went to business school in ----. . . . I never thought I’d know so much about the quality of MBA programs, but I sort of do now.
H: How old is he?
B: 30, I think.
H: Good age. And he likes puppies.
B: Oh! And he has a plant!
H: Like, is it still alive?
B: For two years.
H: Shut up.
B: I know! Isn’t that cute?]

He tells me I have amazing eyes. He’s backlit, and it’s hard to see his face. I wish it wasn’t a work night.

[B: It’s not like we are serious after 3 hours.
H: Of course you are. You are practically engaged.
B: I have to meet his plant first.]


~beatrix

thinking like a girl

Harper tells me, “Stop thinking like a girl. If he talked about his feelings, he would just say ‘Gosh, I want to see you naked’ over and over.”

She’s right. Just because Simon kissed me after I told him I liked him (kind of), does not mean he loves me.

Even though he started it.

“I was doing so well. I went a month without kissing anyone, but just because it was 33 days between Simon’s visits.”
“So that doesn’t really count.”
“It did until I kissed him.”
“It’s like saying your diet went well, when really you just got the stomach flu.”


~beatrix

2008: the exciting conclusion

part 2

Part 3: December

Alistair texts me while I’m out shopping. I’m surprised because I haven’t heard from him since April? May? When I wouldn’t give any explanation for not wanting to see him anymore. The truth is that I had bigger hopes for how things would happen with [Nickname].

Ali wants to get together. It’s not a good night for me because [Nickname]’s having a party. But Ali insists, so I say I’ll stop by on the way.

It never rains, you know?

I’m careful not to drink straight out of bottles. I want this to be a good party. I’m in a party dress and everything.

I don’t realize how drunk [Nickname] is when we all head out to a place across the street. He insists that I leave all my stuff in his apartment “because you’re coming back.” But while I’m talking to Tabor, Ty pukes on us. Seriously. Then he disappears. [Nickname]’s doorman lets us in even though no one’s answering the phone. [Nickname]’s there with some girl. And my stuff’s in the bedroom. Mac doesn’t live there, but he’s locked in there with a girl of his own.

I insist that I’m taking the subway home. It’s 3 a.m. Tabor hails a cab, puts me in it, and follows me in. He wants me to just stay at his place because it’s closer. I’ve just met him that night. And I’m covered in puke. I do not understand boys. He tells me he’s not like [Nickname] and Mac, but I want to go home. He gives me money for the cab ride the rest of the way and gets out.

Things are out of hand, and I’m exhausted.

****

Epilogue

I’m great at dating. I’ll wear something cute and curl my hair and the conversation won’t stop.

I’m trying to be better at relationships. So I’m taking a break, and I’m not going to start back until I’ve tidied up all these loose ends.


~beatrix


p.s. we named him Prince Charming.
~b