"Because out here it's fuck your friends. Kill your parents. And 'Have a nice day.'" Kevin Spacey as Buddy Ackerman in Swimming with Sharks


good good day

bad bad bunni


Ok so this is the story of yesterday and why I didn't blog. Don't worry just because I didn't blog doesn't mean that I actually got work done. So yesterday was the day of the date bait date. But before we get to that there is a whole lot of OTHER stuff to get through first. First, remember Chris D. (just say yes) the guy who was the man of my dreams five years ago and now we occassionally go out and I think why can't I have this man? And we fool around and then he goes back to his life and I go back to mine. So he called while I was going through my two hour picking out clothes and make up while totally panicking routine. (I got a clothes consult from two staight men and one gay one.) He wants to meet for drinks so I say ok, but it has to be early because I have a date, which he is supportive of, which is wierd because we used to date. So I digress. So we agree to meet for drinks and I know this is going to be a test of my will power, to walk away from Chris and go on this date will prove that I can walk away from a sure but short lived night of pleasure to go on a date where a relationship might develop or on other hand I might end up sobbing talking to my cat about how I will never love again. And no one wants that, especially my cat.

and now a brief side note, I would like to introduce a new word, fuss budgety-as in I am a fussbudgety little thing. Say it with me. Ok now back to the entry.

So after I selected what to wear (I had three options, in the end I chose none of the above) I had to go to therapy. So I walk one block and I see this guy Pete ( I believe I mentioned him before, he walked me to my door twice, acted all enthralled and then called once and didn't leave a return number) So I see him on the street and he's all about I didn't call and I'm all about hey you didn't leave a NUMBER. So he asks if he call me again, to which I again say yes, I mean, why not?

So then I go another two block and I'm at the corner and I see this nice restaurant. My friend JP Walt and I are always looking for good new places to eat so I took one of the take out menus they had outside in a big bowl and this really cute and let me say this again this REALLY CUTE guy is like "Hey you can't just take those." Now you know when you are really focused on something and someone says something teasing but it takes you a minute to understand? No? OK then I am just idiot, but it took a minute to realize that he was just teasing. So I say "Oh you're just teasing" and I walk across the street. But as I cross I hear him calling me. Now normally I would keep walking, but I don't think you truly understand the cuteness that was calling to me from the corner. So I turned and he asked me if he could take me to lunch. So I told him I was on my way somewhere. So he asked for my number so I crossed the street and gave it to him. Again do not deny the cuteness. I won't relate the whole boring conversation to you, but he ended it by asking to run away with him to France. Why the hell not? I told him I would do it this weekend. He'll never call. (The scary thing is that I actually had my passport on me, but I couldn't leave my cat.)

So I have managed to go four blocks and get two offers from men. Clearly I had selected the correct outfit for the date.

So I left therapy and ran home to change my top (I decided it was too revealing) and now I would like to offer another idea about dating. In NYC, dating is like trying to get a high level job, you have to call in favors from friends, you have to go to job expos, and log onto monster.com and so forth. Now in dating you have to call in favors from friends, you go to date bait instead of expos, you go to match.com instead of monster. You spend hours picking out an outfit that says fun and sexy, but not easy instead of picking out an outfit that says responsibly, tasteful, conventional, and yet creative. Back to the narrative. So I meet Chris D for a drink and predictably there is chemistry. (Chris D and I will never actually be together but that doesn't stop us from actually fooling around.) So of course there was a lot of flirting and it was very difficult but I did actually drag myself away from Chris D (although we are suppose to hang out next week, ahem) and go on the date. Which started at 9 pm and ended at 1 am.

Ok now here is another problem. Last night my dating companion has requested, well more than requested, that I not write about him here. Well, that is a violation of what bunniblog is all about. The whole point is that my life gets reported here. I remember when I was in college I had friend named for our purposes here Treehugger (I would like to say that he has written about me extensively on his journal at diaryland using my real name and without my permission. Am I bitter? Absolutely.But I can still prove that I am the better person. So there.) So Treehugger starts talking me one day "So I have this problem with my girlfriend" and I was in a particuladrly foul mood and so I said "Don't use that word" And so he says "What word?" And I say "Girlfriend." So I thought that would end the conversation. But no he pauses and then says "So I have this uh dog and this dog sometimes goes into other people's yards, but she says she is still my dog." Well I was on the floor laughing. And so from that time forward all of his girlfriends were referred to as dogs (yes the massing throngs of women that chased Treehugger). Anyway what is required here is a creative solution.

I am not going to refer to my date as a dog. Nor will I use a pseudonym. I think I can solve the problem here my talking about the date but not talking about him. I shall consider it a creative writing excersize.

OK let's just say the date went very well. We are supposed to see each other again tomorrow night. And I got a response from my match ad. And I have a dinner date on monday with Kab (a friend if mine came up with a better pseudonym, Kalibaba, which does have a nice ring to it, but could be um a little insulting so we will stick to Kab for now). You know when it rains, put the house up on stilts people because a monsoon is coming. A MONSOON. But the good news is that little bunni here is happier than she has been in a long time, not just because the date went well because I have options. That's right you know, do I take the blue pill or the red pill? (How about I take the hot young guy to France pill? PLEEEEEASE?)