Extended Midget

Well, here marks another week of boy craziness and erratic hormones. A new series of sparkly epiphanies have manifested.

Last night was my first official internet date since I re-joined my shiteous dating site. The internet guy turned out to be a pretty cool guy with a Black American Express Card. Not that I really cared what color his American Express card was or anything.

He told me his last internet date was with a woman who turned out to be a former midget. He found this out over lots of drinks and crying on the former midget's part. She had gotten her height extended to 5'2".

I thought, aren't we all, in a way, former midgets? We used to be small when we were younger but now we're trying to act so big and tall with our jobs and degrees and dates and bank accounts and addictions and hair colors?

****
British tourist boy left last Saturday morning. He showed up at midnight on Friday to a party I was at. He looked Hugh Grantish and amazingly hot and innocent. He was carrying a Bloomingdale's sack. He had bought me Narcisso Rodriguez perfume and a DVD. I felt like I was in elementary school and my boy crush had given me a paper Valentine.

We kissed passionately and took photos together in one of those photo booths like the movie Beaches...Knowing he was about to get on a flight back to London... feeling such an intense connection...with a boy...who lived thousands of miles away... His lips were soft, his eyes twinkling as he told me he had never had such a connection with a girl like he did me in all of his short 22 years... so exciting and forbidden, the loud club music pumping, our hands softly brushing each other's faces.

He called me from London and I could hear the loud British noises in the background, a world so different from mine. He had told the cab driver on the way to the airport that he had made the biggest mistake of his life by leaving New York...He started to talk about green cards and moving here and how gorgeous I was and... intensity...honesty...freedom...unplanned.

I still feel a bit relieved that he left again...sort of like I didn't have to face such intense emotions on an ongoing basis...my soul mate wasn't supposed to be like that? Like him?

I am an extended midget.

****
On Sunday I signed up for this other thing. It's apparently a matchmaking service for wealthy men. The men on this site spend up to $200,000 a year for this company to find them matches. I'm doing it for journalistic purposes I swear.

The people from the site called me eight hours later and asked me to meet with the head of the company at this swank hotel near Central Park on Friday. I told my boss I had a gynecologist appointment. Wonder if she'll notice that I dress up to go to the gyno?

Will I meet the man of my dreams through this site?

I am still seeing suck-my-face Kosovo club boy. He's fun fun fun.

And...I'm still an extended midget, but I'm an extended midget who is now addicted to Advil Cold and Sinus. I somehow manifested a cold.