SexyintheCity

We were at the entrance to the subway station; I was on top of the stairs and he was a few steps down, with the most bamboozled look on his face because by fate we saw each other, him clutching the sparkly Guess watch because I ripped it off my wrist and threw it at his chest. I usually throw like a girl, but at that time I had good aim.

Then I stretched out my hand and gestured he give me back the $300 Tommy Hilfiger watch I bought him.

That was the last transaction between me and my ex of three years. I made sure I exit with a bang. Or, a thud, rather.

Then. One summer afternoon in 2008. I rang the doorbell of a nice big house in Winston Churchill, with a plastic bag in my hand, and behind the ajar door appeared a disgruntled and irritated guy who had a grain of rice sticking to his face and I was standing there thinking, “Yuck. I went out with this guy?” but what came out was “You have my stuff? Here’s yours.”

I grabbed my belongings and turned around, strutted along the paveway leading to my car as if it was a catwalk, in my white denim mini-skirt and the strings of my bikini top peeking out of my thin white shirt. I was about to go to the beach. I needed my emergency towel back.

That was the last transaction between me and my summer ex.

Now, I’m actually nice to my winter ex. I asked him verbally and NICELY if I could have my hot pink lingerie and sleepwear back. I even texted him afterwards to remind him which was where, because he has bad memory.

NADA. No reply. What do I have to do to get my lingerie back? Does a girl have to keep chase? Do I repel him that much that he doesn’t even have the courtesy to meet me halfway (he lives far) and do our last transaction? He probably thinks I’m just scheming around so we could see each other again that gago.

So vain.

If I asked the third time, I’m gonna look pathetic. But that hot pink lingerie is the sexiest piece of thing I ever owned, and didn’t even get to wear it alot! For only $20, I’ll never see that bargain again.

Please come back to me

I was glad to escape all the drama and friction after I graduated from highschool. Especially the “popular” chicks that never liked me because boys paid attention to me. We still don’t like each other til this day.

But now that I’ve stepped on to my career, into an office environment, I feel like I’ve been thrown into an even dangerous battle arena, like a Mortal Kombat cage, full of snakes.

I’m required to be more careful, because now the people I’m up against are older and more experienced in life than I am. Office politics is so dirty.

You will learn who is plastic, pretentious, ass-kisser, who is the favorite of who, who you’re not good enough to be spoken to, who my boss is pissed at (ha-ha). I figure out who’s sketchy and I’m just about done.

And at one point I was in the middle of everything.

Everyone was telling me their opinions and issues with others. Everyone sniping at each other behind each other’s backs and in front of me. I had to step back and see the big picture.

It’s bad enough that most of the time I can’t relate to the women in my department. Nothing wrong with that, it’s just that I don’t care now if I don’t totally fit in.

I’m here to get paid. And this is not highschool anymore, even though women here treat this environment that way.

I’m not miss popularity, and no one can make me give two pieces of crap.

Did anyone enjoy that almost-spring-like weather on Sunday?! Because I did! It was so beautiful; the sun was shining, the snow was melting, the air was crispy fresh!

It was 2 degrees! How pathetic is that when you think 2 degrees is actually a nice warm temperature. Definitely a break from the normal -20 feel of harsh Canadian winter.

So even though my body was out of condition to step out of the house yesterday, I sucked it up and threw myself out there, to the awesome yet short-lived weather. Mission: Give my car Diego an oil change.

Oh yeah he’s running smoother now.

After that I drove across the street to Sherway Gardens mall. Kamusta naman Sherway Mall yesterday. It was JAMPACKED! And the Antique Roadshow was on. So many beautiful and FRAGILE accessories; you just wanna kinda throw yourself at ‘em.

I was reminded how poshy this mall is. And the people shopping there too. I visited Holt Renfrew, Mango and Costa Blanca. I was drooling over Coach bags, but then again, I already have a Gucci. So through the mall I kinda had to flash my freakinly awesome gold Gucci bag because the girls looked stuck-up and they were checking out my bag.

My friend told me; I might as well collect them all, so my next target will have to be a Coach.

So I bought a cute black sleeveless top with detailed sequins along the neckline and black ribbon to tighten around it; on sale for $30 from Mango. And a creamy white (with black line pattern) poplin jacket on sale for $30 as well, from Costa Blanca.

Mango is love!

And of course, both styles have a bit of Blair air to them! My style goddess. This Gossip Girl addiction is unhealthy for the pocket. And I believe I’m turning into something I’ve been trying to avoid all my life. A fashionista. Argh! There are so many hungry people all over the world and I’m thinking of preppy clothes and endless hairbands.

Voila my growing collection so far.

Next mission: Must. Stay. Away. From. Malls.

When my previous ex cut the thread on me with much-awaited finality, God cometh forth and summoned a cushion and placeth it nicely under my ass for soft landing…eth.

And what a cushion he is.

He is 6′, built, immaculate hair, always geared in business-casual clothes, light skinned, cute beady eyes, a handsome mix of British and Filipino.

He came charging back into my life the day after the breakup. Well, actually he tried to charge back MANY times. He withstood 2 boyfriends of mine and he’s still around.

A phone call he made to me when I was still in a relationship consisted of “I tried calling you so many times for so many months and it wasn’t you I thought you hated me”, “Remember back in April when you punked me out 3 times? Well it looks like I’m about to get a strike out again tonight.”

He issued apologies later on for being under the influence of alcohol.

He’s like a bad pimple that won’t go away.

Thing is, I think he already has a significant other, possibly a little one too. I hear it and feel it when I’m hanging out with him and his friends. Yet he ain’t shy about me. I’m not really something that he feels he has to hide. But why bother?

I’m not losing anything. I’m not doing the chasing either. We don’t owe each other. And I am not hurt about the fact he may have someone else. But this makes it harder for me to trust men.

I guess there’s nothing wrong with being friends with an opposite sex that just happens to be ridiculously good looking right.

My ex once told me; for a girl there is no such thing as a guy friend. It’s either: he likes you, or he’s gay. God I hope he’s not gay.

I love Gossip Girl.  But I hated Chuck Bass’ character.  I could name one person I know personally who has the same personality as Chuck.  Perverted womanizer with busy hands.  There was a Chuck Bass once in my life, regretfully.  But my Chuck didn’t get far at all, much to his chagrin.   

Chuck is Ed Westwick in real life.  And I couldn’t quite figure out what his background was.  The eyes are chinky, but the face structure is that of a Greek god (that I love so much).  After some stalking, I learned that he is British.  Surprise surprise.

I’ve always had a thing for British guys.  Liam Howlett.  Liam Gallagher.  Gavin Rossdale.  Orlando Bloom.  And the newbie, Ed Westwick. 

While staring at Ed’s pics, holding back the drool and all, something dawned on me.  An epiphany of epic proportions.  It was unavoidable and impossible to notice, like a bad silent fart in a closed room.

The nose.

If you take Orlando’s nose.  Ed’s nose.  And.  My ex’s nose.  They all have the same nose structure!  That was it; smack right in the middle.  (Of the face).  Literally. 

I remember, when I was still irked with Ed’s character, there was a little part of me flailing and jumping, telling me that there’s definitely something I liked about him, but couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

Ahh yes.  Me and my nose fetish.  While other girls are focused on nice eyes and body on guys, I’m subconsciously zeroed in on a body part no one usually gives a crap about.  I don’t know why a strong sexy nose is important, it’s always the first thing I notice. 

Carry on drooling

After hearing my ex rave about how much he liked short hair on girls, I charged into the mall and chopped 10 inches of my hair that same day.  Pathetic I know, so eager to please a man.  A FATAL mistake any woman can make. 

Me and short hair don’t mix well together.  I hate it.  It’s just not me.  Along with the strands, my confidence flew out the window.  Yes my hair is growing back as fast as grass on a Chia but I can’t wait another half a year to have my original length back.

So I decided to cheat a little. 

Cost me a hundred dollars, but after months of putting it off, I’ve finally got myself clip-on hair extensions.  

Suddenly I find myself welcoming back my three friends; swagger, twinkle and spunk. 

I’m sick of being called “little girl”. 

Much to my horror though, I almost got picked up by a younger guy in the mall a couple of days ago.  I felt I was back in highschool, the frivolity of it all.  It was horrible. 

I’m 26.  I’m not cute.