Achoo, Achoo, Achoo...You're Gonna Love Me!

In the earliest days of our sexual education, we are separated into two rooms.  Boys and girls.  No one talks about what happens in the other room, but we are lead to believe it is because the items discussed are too new/confusing/embarrassing and the teachers are just protecting our feelings.  To that I say "BULL SHIT!"  I'm convinced that while we women are being informed of our monthly servitude to appease the gods, or being threatened with a disease ridden life if we don't keep it locked up, the boys are getting a lesson of a different nature.  You know what lesson I'm talking about...the lesson of how to seal the deal.  I think the lesson taught to these young, ignorant boys goes something like this: "There comes a point in every night when there is no going back.  You have to go all in, or not at all. If you don't seal the deal soon, you are going home....alone.  SO, put on your big boy panties and getchu some!"  You know, Mean Girls style....but in reverse..."You must have sex. Or you'll die. You must have sex in missionary position.  You must have sex standing up....Just, just do it, ok?"  If this isn't correct, then the Department of Education, or a bunch of angry Mid-Western moms (Mom, you already have my address..so that's easy) are more than welcome to send me a strongly worded letter. For now, I maintain this thought. 

Put my thing down flip it and reverse it.  That's the lesson.  Got it?

And it's always been this way. Since the dawn of time. Time dawned, boys and girls split into two factions, girls made a meatloaf, guys made up terrible pick up lines. Even our favorite romantic-y, old-timey movies are testaments to this! How often have we seen our boys on the silver screen fall in love at a mere glance? The only difference is that in the days of yore, the guys would cut their losses, pick a bitch and propose. Sure, they're not gonna get a different girl every night, but they are going to get consistently laid. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers those chicks and lets roll! But not now. Oh nooooooo, not now. Guys have evolved into these predators that hunt the most dangerous game: women. Its the food chain people! Boys hunt girls, girls hunt shoes, shoes hunt... uh... thats it. Its a short chain.

These cheesy pickup lines, while always prevalent, seem to really flourish at a certain time of day....or night...or morning?  It is a little difficult to classify whether it is night or morning.  Day is definitely out...because it is dark out...so that means late night or early morning. "Get to the point, Caitlin!"  I am!  Geez... The worst time of day for any woman to be out?  2:00 am.  If you are out, get home as quickly as possible, take cover in a storm shelter (which I've yet to see in NYC),  better yet, dress up as a man and start yelling profanities at nearby women, because you are no longer safe.  I'm not exactly sure the science of it, since I wasn't in the boys room in 4th grade, but by using some deductive reasoning, this is what I've gathered: Every man, in every bar/on every street/pretty much everywhere, receives some sort of sexual Bat signal that their lives will end in approximately 45 minutes if action isn't taken. Use whatever creeper techniques necessary, but GETCHU SOME! 

What I assume the Bat signal for men looks like...except not on a mudflap.

"Kids, nothing good happens after 2a.m." -Grown Up Ted Mosby once said. So I guess Bob Saget actually said it, but whatever. And he's right. The guys get the Bat signal and then, ladies, do what all the bad guys in the Batman movies never did: get the fhack off the street and GO HOME! Guys will try anything, say anything, pretend to be anything, to get you to go home with them. Our mothers always told us growing up "Boys are only after one thing." And then something about there being no supply and demand for cows that hand out pre-churned ice cream cones for free ... Thats the saying right? Anyways, there are a few ways to tell if a guy has chosen you as a target. They may offer to buy you a drink, knowing the bar is closing, and then be all like "well, I have wine back at blah blah blah." OR they may want to show you something nifty at their apartment. Which is like the least stealthy thing ever. NEWSFLASH! There is nothing that I will go see at your apartment at 2a.m. unless it happens to be the frozen head of Walt Disney. Guess again. No.

Believe them.  Look how sad they look.  Don't look like this.

Needless to say, no matter how many fruity-tutty-flirtini-rape-in-a-glass drinks he offers to buy you (or has already given you), run away.  Trust us.  We've met some grade-A creepers all for the sake of this blog (so a little gratitude might be nice.)  The later it gets, the more the crazy shows, and crazy isn't a good color on anyone.  Except for maybe Lindsay Lohan....wait..nope...not good on anyone.  Our best advice: Grab your bestie, pretend to be sick or secretly in love, and shake your hot asses home.  

(Quick Tip: To accurately portray lesbianism with your bestie, touch each others faces a lot and giggle. It always works for us.**)
As for us, we will continue to scour New York City for some hunky/nerdy men.  We are almost certain they exist.....maybe.

**This almost never works for us...and by almost never, I mean it is always completely unbelievable. 

Now Jerks have Killed the Dream I Dreamed.

Being a product of a generation raised on rom com's and unrealistic expectations, I suppose it should come as no surprise that I can't seem to find 'Mr. Right.' Hell, I'm having issues even finding 'Mr. Right Now' or 'Mr. Anyone Anywhere.' I swear, if one more of my facebook friends gets engaged I am going to 1) like that status update because I'm a nice human and then 2) clamp my hand in my hair straightener. 

I don't feel like I'm looking for someone that impossible to find! I have a very clear image of my ideal man. People have such long lists of ridiculous things that they want from a man, and sure, some of them find guys who are willing to pretend to be that for them. All I really want I've decided is someone to make me waffles and to sit on the couch with me on sunday mornings and watch t.v. Then I want us to play tag in the park and make fun of people on the street. I have taken the liberty of posting my three dream fellas below, mainly because I know so many straight guys spend their days reading girly blogs and I want them to take note. 
Carly's Dream Men:

 Charlie Day... So cute and funny.

 Matthew Perry seduced me with his vocal patterns and comedic timing

Jorma just makes me melt. I'm a pile of butter right now.

While I will say that I am sure many guys in New York are probably great human beings, I can also say I have had the pleasure of mostly meeting Douchebag McGee's. Really though. I met this guy the other night who, while cute, was hands down the biggest ass I have ever met in my life. I couldn't believe the things coming out of this guys mouth! The worst part is, I think his objectifying of women and degrading comments have actually gotten him laid so many times he now thinks it is not only tolerable, but acceptable to act this way. Ladies, don't sleep with these awful men, because the rest of us have to talk to them and endure the Pavlovian result of your positive reinforcement. Don't worry gals, I rang a bell and puched that mo'fo in the face! Alright, I didn't. But I did walk away and mock him incessantly. 

PREACH IT, sister!  I too wish I could say my love life is all romantic strolls around Central Park, and lazy weekend brunches (sidenote: Carly and I REALLY like breakfast foods) that end with a day of mimosa snuggles and working our way through my Netflix and HuluPlus queues.  Oh wait!  I do have that!  I have found a guy who combines my love of fancy day drinking and dumpy television.  He is perfect. Unfortunately he is also gay.  Figures. 

The only other guys I have found lately must be studying at Douchebag McGee's School for the Upright Asshole.  This week I found myself being asked out repeatedly by a (not so gentlemanly) gentleman, who insisted I would say yes because he is "an alpha male"...he was also 20. (The universe is REALLY pushing that cougar card that I DO NOT want)  If you can't legally buy me a drink, please go back to the daycare you crawled away from...I think I saw an Amber Alert about you.  While I definitely love me a confident man, having to reassure yourself you are the top dog, whilst saying I have a "nice frame," is a sure fire way to convince me you are not confident.  It also convinces me I am house, and you are realtor.  What kind of frame am I? The A-frame? The classy Victorian?  The dreaded split level?!  I was honestly hoping for one of those silver mobile homes....but I digress....

My dream man is the perfect mix of tall/dark/handsome, goofy/nerdy/funny, and age appropriate.  I'm sure this mix exists somewhere other than my dreams....maybe.  For now, let's follow Carly's example and use a few pictorial examples to make this search go a little more quickly. 
Caitlin's Dream Men: 

Jason Sudeikis. Cute/funny/charming.  Olivia Wilde is a lucky bitch.

Utkarsh Ambudkar. I mean...come on! And he's been on Broadway and the Mindy Project...sooo

Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Just because.  Am I right?! Yes.

Ideally we are looking for a tall dark and handsome man with his shorter, comically adorable sidekick, both with great senses of humor, jobs and the ability to read written word. All applicants can apply, in person, to any brunch establishment this spring. You will find us there. Send us drinks. Just remember, Caitlin likes her coffee like she likes her men: bitter. And I like my coffee with vanilla soy milk and one splenda. But I don't think I like my men that way... Or do I? I guess that would just make them calorie free, Vanilla Ice look-a-likes and I DO NOT want that.

Introductions are Always Uncomfortable

I'm feeling a lot of pressure right now to come off really well in this introduction. I feel the same way I feel when I am getting ready to introduce myself to a cute boy, or when someone asks me my favorite movie, or what the capital of Wyoming is... I just don't know how to function... Ummm... yeah...

Agreed.  This is really uncomfortable and usually in this sort of setting I would just giggle, flip my hair, and smile...stunned stupid as to how and where this new encounter originated.  If that doesn't work, then I'm left one option: RUN!  Which might explain why my love life is so stunning as of late. 

Right. Mine too. People are always like "Oh my gawd! You live in New York!? So, is like, 'Sex and the City' basically your life?" To which I'm all like, "Yeah it is!" and they are like, "Really!?" and then I'm like, "No."

Okay, so we bet you are wondering why this is written in two different fonts and colors. Notice how we said 'we are wondering.' If you need further explanation, we are worried, but willing to give it. We are two single gals- insert cheesy joke here- living it up in the big city. If you didn't read that last sentence sarcastically, we would like to give you the opportunity to go back and give it another shot. We'll wait.

We'd like to get to know each other a little better. Not me and Caitlin, we know each other already. Obviously. Seriously, I am starting to get a little worried with your guys' level of perception. So, we wanna let you get to know us before you decide if our lives are something you want to commit to. Consider this our first cyber date. Caitlin, you go first because I wanna eat this soup you just made.

Ummmmm......ok....So, hi!  I'm Caitlin.  I'm a single, twenty-something, awkward girl attempting to live in the big bad city.  I'm not sure it's so bad, but it is big...but that's not really the saying is it?  In attempts to hide my semi-awkward introversion, I like to pretend I'm an undefinable mix of Audrey Hepburn's class, Ava Gardner's sass (I would say sex.....but that would be a BOLD faced lie), and Kim K.'s ass.  That is also a little untrue, because not only do I not have that ass, I'm not sure I have the confidence to rock something that is equivalent to the size of a small nation.  So, mostly I like sundresses, lipstick, and sarcastic comments.  All ass comments are probably 78% out of jealousy.  Also, all percentages I use, which will be often, are based in fact....sometimes.

Back to meeee! So, by default that would make me Carly. Which is totally cool because that was my second choice! I am a single, slightly younger twenty something (suck on that Caitlin! those 9 and 1/2 months make all the difference!), looking for excuses to wear as many patterns at once as humanly possible. People seem to like me okay, mainly because I will talk at you until I hit on something you find mildly interesting and I curry your favor. I am a lovely blend of Steve Martin's dancing, Liz Lemon's eating habits and James Roday's non-sequential comments. Trust me, guys love it. Trust me, I'm the Doctor. Okay, one or two of the last comments are untrue... Basically, I live for dragons, muppets and when people rhyme on accident.

Now that we are all a little more acquainted, we would like to invite you to join us in our quest.  "A quest?!  What quest???"  Whoa.  Calm your tits.  We were about to say, before you freaked out....ANYWAYS.....basically, we just want you to come along with us as we try to figure exactly what we want in life, since college degrees in the arts don't seem to prepare you for this so-called "real life."  Also, you can watch us crash and burn during our mediocre attempts to have a love life.  Like we said, Sex and the City....except not. 

Right. Or at the very least this blog will turn into a moving tale about how two young girls met, became friends and then died alone, side by side. Really, it's going to be beautiful either way. 

Alright. Lets do this shit.