Valentine’s Day Disasters of the past

Valentine’s Day Disasters of the past

I know in my previous near-death post I said I wasn’t going to beat on about how Valentine’s Day sucks, but since I know that some of you live Vicariously through me, I’ve written about some of my V-day disasters. I’ve even given them ratings: 1, being not so bad and 10 being completely fucking disastrous.

2006 London. "No Acknowledgement of Valentine's Day"
Whilst Dating the BFE I received nary a phone call on Valentine’s day. Flowers or chocolate, I should have been so lucky! As far our relationship went it was almost as if Valentine’s Day didn’t exist. He just called it, “Tuesday.” Keep in mind we had spent the better part of the month fucking like bunnies. There wasn’t a room in his house where we hadn’t fucked. So the Valentine’s day blackout took me totally by surprise. I later found out he spent the day trying to romance his wife. I guess he was attempting to convince her to go back with him. At the time I was livid, but now I just admire his chutzpah.
Disaster rating: 8 out of 10 broken hearts.

2005 London, Soho. "Best of the Best"
After 6 month of being girlfriend & boyfriend, The Ex and I went to a Japanese restaurant that I picked out. I picked it solely because the clientèle were Japanese. Is that wrong? During dinner he handed me a Valentine’s Day Card. I don’t remember anything about the card, but he signed it, “Best.” Not "love", "luv", or even "lurve." That was like a slap in the face. On the most romantic day of the year the best I could get was “Best.” Then he asked if we could split the bill. We later got into an argument about how he never makes the effort for me. He was a really shitty boyfriend, but now he makes a good friend. I guess this is one of those cases of clouds and silver linings. Still, when it happened, I was pretty bummed out.
Disaster rating: 6 out of 10 broken hearts.

2004 Brighton "HPY V-D 2U"
Was very casually dating this guy, Trevor. He sent me a Valentine’s Day text. Was that supposed to be romantic?
Disaster rating 3 out of 10 broken hearts.

2002 Sydney / Glebe "No hay banda"
I had started seeing this girl. Let’s call her GingerVegLez. The thing about lesbian relationships is that sometimes I can’t figure out if the girl JUST wants to be friends or if it’s more? Anyhow we got to the point where we were always hanging out, so I figured she was into me. And I was kinda into her. We made plans to spend Valentine’s day together. She asked me out, mind you. So I bought her a gift. A vegetarian cook book. And I wrote something nice on the inside cover. I don’t remember exactly what I wrote but I suppose it was quasi-romantic. We went to a quaint romantic restaurant. Then we went to see, what I thought was a romantic movie, “Mullholland Drive.” As it turned out, I had never seen a David Lynch movie before. For future reference "Mullholland Drive" is not the best initiation with Lynch. I really didn’t enjoy the film. I couldn’t figure out what it was about. Later we went back to GingerVegLez’s place. Even though we slept in the same bed, she spurned my advances. It turns out, she just wanted to be friends. Had I known that, I wouldn’t have paid for dinner, the movie and bought a gift. Even though that pretty much finished us off, weeks later, she had a house party. When no one was looking I took back the Vegetarian Cookbook that I bought her. I mailed it to Kiki in New York. GingerVegLez sent me an e-mail a couple days later. The subject of the e-mail was: Cookbook. Do you think I even bothered to read it? I just hit delete and deleted her out of my life.
Disaster rating: 5 out of 10 broken hearts.

1999 New York, Downtown, "Brazilian Nuts"
I was dating this Brazilian guy who was into tantric sex. He got me all worked up on February 13. He got me all wet and all worked up but then refused to fuck me. He wanted to tease me. He said he wanted to see how close he could get me to cum, then pull back. Yes, very cruel. He had an amazing tongue. I wanted his cock so badly. He actually got me on my knees begging for his cock, then he said no. And he said it so effortlessly. We said good-bye by kissing near the Flat-Iron building on 23rd street. He said he’d be back on Valentine’s day to finish what he started. Valentine’s day came, but he didn’t. And neither did I. In fact, I never heard from him ever again. Eduardo are you out there?
Disaster rating: 7 out of 10 broken hearts.

1993 Schenectady, "Garfield"
My first boyfriend, T. He was on the high school basketball team. Not my high school, but a rival school. He just happened to be playing against my school on Valentine’s day. I showed up for the game supporting the Rival School. Not really a good move in a small town. To make matters even more embarrassing, I bought him one of those huge 2-foot Garfield Valentine’s day cards. I gave him the card after the game. The next day, he dumped me. My little 15-year old heart was torn to pieces. Coincidently, I bumped into him 6 years later on the corner of Broadway & Mercer. He actually had the nerve to ask why I hadn’t been in touch?
Disaster rating: 9 out of 10 broken hearts.

And in case you’re wondering what I’m doing tonight, I’ve got a hot “date” with Wanda. If you have any Valentine’s day disaster stories you want to share, e-mail them to me, and I’ll read them out during our next podcast. me@naivelodnongirl.com

Wax on, Wax off

While you're waiting for me to finish writing, part 4 of, "I Fucked Him Up the Ass" take a stroll down memory lane and listen to this podcast about waxing we did last year.

Sex and New York City

Sex and New York City

Anjelika gets laid. Wanda learns about donkey punching.

51 Minutes

Naive London Girl: An American Sex Blog in London

http://www.NaiveLondonGirl.com

Jinx the Minx

New York City Special

Wanda and Anjelika travel to New York City. Hear about their advenures.

Naive London Girl
http://www.NaiveLondonGirl.com

The UK's #1 Sex Podcast

Sex and the Ex

Wanda and Anjelika discuss:

- Censorship and Radio Presentors
- Anjelika's latest bedroom action
- Upcoming Brazil Trip
- Falling asleep during Masturbation
- The guy Wanda fancies
- Guys on the Rebound
- Wanda's search for a "Gap-year Guy"
- More about the New York Trip

Naive London Girl
http://www.NaiveLondonGirl.com

The UK's #1 Sex Podcast

Bizarre New York Shitty

Bizarre New York Shitty

I'm in New York City again.

I really fucked up the timing of this trip. I thought it only took a day to get a tourist visa to Brazil. When I last got a visa to Brazil 7 years ago the visa took like 15 minutes. They did it on the spot.

So the day before I was due to leave for Brazil I went to the Brazilian Consulate just off Piccadilly Circus. They told me it takes 5 (count em FIVE) days to get a tourist visa.

WTF?!? Why do you need a visa to visit Brazil anyhow? And for the love of God tell me why it would take 5 days? So I've had to change my plane ticket and come to New York because it only takes 2 days to get a visa here. So it's just before 8:00 here in New York and I'm getting ready to go to the Brazilian embassy.

The weather is miserable. It's cold wet and rainy. I left sunny 80 degree weather in London for this! Unbelievable!

There's flooding here. The flood waters are driving the rats above ground and that really freaks me out. Last night I was on a very narrow subway platform. I had a choice between:

a. walking into a huge puddle of water
b. falling off the platform edge
c. walking into a very intimidating-looking family of rats

It's never an easy decision. It's madness! That's what New York does to you. It drives you mad. It drives you mad but it doesn't do it all at once. New York City slowly drives you mad so one day you wake up and you are a complete freak – but you're not a freak to other New Yorkers because they're all freaks as well in some strange pool of collective insanity.

It's only when you venture across the tunnel and rejoin a 'normal' society that you realize that it's really fucking bizarre to be living in an apartment who's total size is smaller than the bedroom you grew up in. And the rent is 3 times higher than your parent's mortgage.

It's bizarre that you go day after day without leaving a six-block radius from your apartment.

It's bizarre that every twenty-something friend of yours is single.

It's bizarre that you have more contact with the local guy who runs the corner shop than you do with your own friends.

It's bizarre that none of your friends own property.

It's bizarre that you regularly go out at midnight and stay out until 7 AM.

It's bizarre that you have brunch with your friends at 3PM because you've slept all day.

It's bizarre that you get into arguments over which is the best restaurant on Avenue A. And no, Two Boots doesn't count.

It's bizarre that even if you live alone you actually share your apartment with New York's finest rodents. I once impaled a rat with a stiletto that I was wearing. I'd like to think that he was on a suicide mission.

And it's really bizarre that without exception every single one of your friends has a therapist and / or has an eating disorder and / or a has coke habit and / or smokes too much weed and / or has no savings account and / or has attempted suicide and / or has herpes.

All of that may seem bizarre to an outsider, but it's what New Yorkers call home.

Yeah, people speak about the glamorous, "Sex and the City" New York, but no one ever mentions the other New York. The New York where despite the fact that you're making over $60K you're still struggling financially and mentally to get by.

The New York where you spend year after year in the rat race and it amounts to nothing. You're still single. You're still broke. You're still stuck in that dead end job. You're still not famous! What ever happened to that novel / album / band / screenplay / photo exhibit / dot com start-up /performance piece / film you were working on?

You still haven't paid off your student loans. You still need to lose weight despite the fact that you belong to Crunch but you don't actually go. You drink too much (for an American).

You still hate your apartment. You're still jealous of the friends of friends who have somehow managed to achieve some sort of stardom. You're still unhappy, but in too much of a rut to do anything about it.

Despite all that you have illogically convinced yourself that you still love New York you wouldn't live anywhere else.

And Londoners wonder why I left?