Girl and City

A few nights ago, I went to see the Wizard of Oz, the musical. It was surprisingly good, particularly the munchkins who were all (very talented) elementary school kids. The scarecrow, the tin man, and the lion were amazing singers and dancers, and surprisingly, the lady who played Dorothy was the least impressive of the troup.
During intermission, two other girls and I ran across the street to a jazz and supper club where we quickly drank a glass of wine and shared a chocolate crepe before running back into the theatre for the second half. A musical, jazz, wine, and chocolate in the same night? How often does that happen?
I have never gone to a musical before, so I can check that off my life list¹! Now that I’ve seen one, I want to see more, many more!

After the show, I rushed over to an Italian restaurant nearby where SRF was celebrating a belated birthday. I was obviously late for dinner, but they poured me some wine and we had a jolly good time. I arrived just in time to explain to the dinner party why the wines they had ordered didn’t taste good (I had become the resident wine connoisseur to my friends ever since I went on those wine tastings last year). My alcohol tolerance is an embarrassment now², but that hasn’t stopped me from drinking.

We went to The Club³ after dinner⁴, except there was also a fashion show launch party there that night, so it was packed. I ran into a lot of people I hadn’t seen since second-year. Every time I ran into someone that night, they offered to buy me a drink, so two hours in, I had already had five drinks, none of which I paid for. It didn’t help that one of my friends from TheBusinessSchool had bought a private booth and bottle service and was handing me vodka tonics whenever my hand was empty. Free drinks are the worst way to stay sober (if that makes any sense).

Then I ran into YAR. Remember YAR? He is now in TheBusinessSchool, a year below me, and we had had lunch together a few weeks ago. I remembered that I still owed him lunch since I let him pay last time, but in order for it not to be a date, I’d insisted that he let me pay if we went out again. So I offered to buy him a drink when I ran into him, thinking this would absolve me of my obligation to take him out to lunch. Since our date two years ago, I had realized that it probably wasn’t a good idea for us to get involved. Besides, we didn’t leave things off very well last time, since he kissed my friend after taking me out to dinner. I was also under the impression that he currently had a girlfriend. Unfortunately, by the time I bought him a drink, I was far too inebriated for my own good.

Ironically, as a result of my buying him a drink in order to get out of buying him lunch, I ended up sleeping with him.
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1. You have no idea how great it feels to actually be making progress with my life list. I encourage everyone to make one! [↩]
2. Case in point, chugging that glass of wine during intermission made me tipsy for the second half of the play. [↩]
3. It is the official club of TheBusinessSchool because we go every week. [↩]
4. I wasn’t dressed for clubbing, and hadn’t planned to go out originally, but in my tipsy state of mind, I was easy to persuade. [↩]

I don’t know what’s gotten into me. It seems like I keep going clubbing these days, even though (I thought) I was over that scene.

More importantly, I get unimaginably bad hangovers now, and each time, I swear I’m never going to drink again – it’s that bad – and then, a week later, I find myself at another pre-drink. What is up?

I think somewhere between October and now, I realized that I have more sex appeal than I used to. I mean, I used to be more desperate and naive¹, and while that might be appealing to some (har har), now, I am an older, more confident version of myself. I’m also ten pounds heavier, but surprisingly, that hasn’t stopped guys from hitting on me.
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1. Sad, but true. It was especially bad in first year because I was so curious to explore this “party world” and I was getting over MFL. [↩]

Ironically, not two days after my “Officially Single” post, I meet someone!

Well, “meet someone” is a bit of a stretch. More like, I went out for Halloween, got drunk, and made out with someone.

And that’s where the story should have ended. But the next day, in the middle of my deathly hangover, NJB adds me on Facebook.

So I’m sitting there, trying not to throw up for the umpteenth time, hovering between “Accept” or “Reject” this unsolicited friend request. Quite honestly, I was surprised he even remembered my name. I certainly didn’t remember his (but my skills of deduction helped me realize who this friend request had to have come from.)

Do I really want to be friends with this guy?
I mean, I don’t want to be like “the bitch” who goes and uses some guy just so she’d have someone to grind up against in the club, and then drops him like garbage.
On the other hand, if I accept this friend request, I don’t want him to think it actually means something, like I want to actually be friends (or more) with him.
Because, let’s be clear about something, when I go out to a club, I’m not there to meet guys. In fact, I have very low expectations of the quality of guys in clubs. Sure, it’s fun if I meet someone that I actually enjoy dancing with, but that’s a one-night thing. If that accidental meeting extends beyond the one drunken night, it’s no longer fun anymore.

That is, at least, the lesson I’ve learned from four years of university.

So, while I should have been flattered that he remembered my name, while I should have felt a smidgen of optimism that you actually can meet decent guys in clubs, all I could think was “Damn, I shouldn’t have given him my real name.”

In the end, I did add him on Facebook, and when he messaged me for my number, I gave it to him. I realized that jadedness begets jadedness, and I didn’t want to perpetuate the cycle. I’d rather be the foolish girl who believes the best in everyone despite past experience than the bitch who treats men like garbage just because she’s been treated like garbage in the past. I didn’t want to perpetuate the cyclical behaviour that ruins the chances of happiness for everyone, because – well, it doesn’t have to be this way.

So, let it be known that if you ever meet me in a club or at a party, I will always give you my real name.

P.S. I was the Little Red Riding Hood for Halloween. I’m not one for fancy Halloween costumes but my roommate happened to have this, so I lucked out.

Last Friday, I had two first-round interviews, both with firms I wanted to work for. The night before, I tossed and turned in my bed until 4am, finally fell asleep in front of the TV at around 6am, and woke up at 8am.

Even though I was functioning on two hours of sleep, I could not have been more awake. I did not have a drop of coffee the whole day.

After the two interviews, I spent the rest of the weekend worrying whether I would get a call for a second-round interview. On Friday night, I went out with some girls for Zee’s birthday. I hardly enjoyed myself as I was constantly checking my phone. Eventually, my friends made me take some shots with them so I would loosen up. By midnight, I was so drunk I couldn’t see straight, partly because I needed to shake off the stress of interview week and partly because I hadn’t drank in months and therefore my alcohol tolerance was nil. We picked up tons of guys that night, which is something I haven’t done since first-year. In first-year, I would have been flattered by the attention. It would have been a novelty to have a guy hit on me, buy me drinks, and want to dance with me all night. Now, I was indifferent to it. Even when I was dancing with a guy who looked like Justin Timberlake, all I could think about was my couch at home. I extracted myself soon thereafter and hopped in a cab, without even bothering to find my friends (I was sure they were each grinding some guy though).
On Saturday, I nursed my hangover while nervously waiting by the phone. On Sunday, I worked most of the day and wondered whether my phone was broken.

Today, I got a call saying I didn’t get a second-round interview. Fuckers.

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EDIT: I just got a call from my second interview on Friday and I GOT A SECOND-ROUND INTERVIEW! In NEW YORK CITY!! Fuck yeah.
I had figured that since I hadn’t heard from them in so long (usually they get back to you within 10 hours of the interview), I was definitely not moving on to the final interview. The likelihood of a second-round decreases exponentially with the number of hours you have to wait. Well I waited FOUR AND A HALF DAYS but it all worked out. Three second-rounds out of six first-round interviews? That’s a pretty sweet ratio.