"I Just Want to be Neighbors"

So far I have learned that boys aren't very nice. I have also learned that nice girls have no fun. I tend to draw in an equal amount of disappointment and confusion as I did being the not-so-nice girl, and at least she got laid.

For the past two weeks I was becoming increasingly attracted to one of my neighbors. He is a VERY nice guy...all his friends are doctors, he has some health-related career, and he is soft-spoken and seriously way too nice to handle the things that I imagine doing to him. After we hung out a few times he told me that he smokes pot sometimes, it's one of his worst habits...WOW, I better not share with him some of mine. Generally I like to smoke pot to shake the after-effects of my other 250 bad habits, but enough about me. So for the past couple of weeks we've been hanging out, flirting, chatting a lot. We've never kissed, but we'll cuddle on the couch, it's pretty cute. So I'm thinking this is what normal people do. And maybe this is how normal relationships might start? NOPE.

Last Friday we hung out and almost hooked-up, but he was pretty drunk and as much as I wanted to see him naked, I wanted him to remember it, so in keeping with the NGP, I warded off his perverted and delicious advances and left with but a kiss on the cheek. Then, the next morning I wake up to a text..."I think that being good neighbors is the most important thing right now". Excuse me? Did I just get preemptively dumped before I've even kissed the guy? In a text message? And is it really necessary to dump someone you've never even kissed? Ever heard of just, I dunno, say...not calling them anymore?

It was about that time that I decided this whole thing is ridiculous. Boys are idiots whether I'm naughty or nice, so I may as well go back to having fun. I banged him later that night. I'll be the one to decide who's going to be "good neighbors", thank you very much.

Not So Easy Peasy

This "nice girl" crap goes against every natural feeling in my body. I have no idea how to communicate with a guy without having him in my bed by the end of the night. I have stopped swearing, however...it took me a week, and to be quite honest, knowing it only takes a week of rehab for me to stop cursing makes me excited. I can swear my face off and stop in mere days...fantastic! (PS - this blog is a free zone...no penalties for swearing here).

Funny thing that I've noticed being the Nice Girl...guys aren't very nice...not the ones I meet anyways. I met a bartender last week, maybe a couple of years younger, and he asked me for my number. Like the smooth operator I am, I wrote my number on a free movie pass, and, like a predictable hamster, he took the bait and asked me to a movie...he even chose one...Mega Mind...and the day, Sunday, 3 days later. What a nice girl, a movie for the first date! I haven't done that since high school, no joke. Do you think he called? No. His loss, but still. At least as my bad-ass self I would have gotten laid before being rejected, Christ.

So then last night I'm at this after party for a movie release. I met one of the actors, in fact, the one who cracked me up the entire movie. A sense of humor goes a long way with me...by the end of the movie I was totally attracted to the guy and was thrilled to see him at the after party. I was even more thrilled that he seemed totally into me, and get this - he was older *thumbs*. Just by a couple of years, but that's likely a better choice than the teeny-boppers I've been chasing as of late. So we chat all evening and I have 7 too many drinks, (I know, oopsie, against the rules, but I'm only human), and I said it..."SHIT". I'm so well-trained not to swear, I immediately caught myself, gasped, and covered my mouth like I'd just blurted out the Caramilk secret, and said something along the lines of "I'm not allowed to swear". This comment is highly against the Project rules, and it's about to get worse. When he inquired as to why I wasn't "allowed" to swear, I proceeded to tell him that I was involved in the Nice Girl Project, and for the next 2 months I was going to be Nice Girl. Seriously against the rules. Stupid Dr. Pepper shots. Anyhoo, do you know what he said? "Talk to me in two months," walked away, and showed little interest in me for the rest of the night. Dick. (However I'm still attracted to him...maybe even a  little more).

It should be fascinating to see what happens if I actually manage to reel in a nice guy over the course of the Project. I would ruin him. Although I'm 100% a complete, verified douchebag magnet, so I doubt this will be any sort of an issue whatsoever. Stay tuned...

Potty Mouth

It has come to my attention that I am entirely unable to separate my potty mouth between myself and Nice Girl. Therefore I have opted to cut out swearing altogether. There is a swear jar at my office that now holds over $26...the jar has only been in effect since 10am yesterday...this could be a long 2 months. I have realized two things:

1. I swear too much
2. Not only do I talk to myself, but I actually swear to myself

I'm shocked by both of these findings. But don't worry...alas, I have a plan...I'm on it!!! Nice Girl will prevail...it might just take a couple of days, and perhaps the use of a ball-gag. (I was kidding, but that is actually a very good idea)...

Amendments to the Rules of The Nice Girl Project

I hate Halloween. It's great for the kids, and I'm all for Trick-or-Treating, but once you're old enough to get drunk, Halloween is for idiots. This is how I've felt for the past decade, until...True Blood. To sum it up, this show is sexy, scandalous, refreshing...and it always leaves me wanting me be in the middle of a vampire sandwich having my blood sucked between two cold, naked bodies. So I was actually excited a couple of months ago when I inadvertently stumbled across the waitress uniform from Merlotte's that Sookie Stackhouse wears. I bought it immediately and, like an idiot, got excited for Halloween for once. Unfortunately Halloween turned out to be a frustrating evening of entry lines, bathroom lines, drink lines...and without coke lines, it was intolerable, not to mention completely unexpected since we paid almost double for VIP tickets to avoid such nuisances. To top it all off, I bumped into Bachelor #1...remember him? The 25 year old narcissistic actor with the girlfriend? Anyhoo, the entire evening left me in a Stoli Bluberi-fueled rage, and the Nice Girl left the building. Thinking back, it has come to my attention that I need to make some amendments to the rules of The Nice Girl Project:

No swearing
No evil, crook, or stink eye
No yelling at bouncers
No physical scuffles with friends who are trying to calm me down
No flashing single nipples to my neighbours...or double for that matter
No use of the word "douchebag" or any similar spin on the word, including "douche", "doucher", or "douchestick"

I have a swear jar on the desk at work. My assistant said that I swore about 50 times when I told her the Halloween night details...RATS this is going to be harder than I thought. (She was nice of enough to allow it, since technically speaking, the swear jar hadn't been made yet). So starting now, the amendments are in place. Fuck. Okay, starting now.

Week 1

This week was somewhat difficult...being a Nice Girl is tough stuff. I had a date mid-week with a friend of mine. I wasn't sure if it was an actual date, but it became clear after a few beers that Bachelor # 3 was definitely interested in being "more than a friend." After he had a few too many beers, (which was only 5 by the way...lightweight), he became a little loud, and kept repeating "I'm so drunk." It was killing me. I had so many jokes for this guy, was he for realsies? I wanted to tell him he was a pussy and ask him if he needed me to hold his hair back...all in jest, of course. But, Nice Girl wouldn't say that. She wouldn't make jokes. She didn't. She told him "don't worry, it's ok, let's just call it an early night." Nice girl only had 4 beers and stayed relatively sober, because that's what nice girls do. I hugged B #3 and he offered to walk me home, but he was so drunk, and I didn't want to give him the wrong idea...these days a walk home is a big green light no Make-out Street, so I sent him on his way.

Later in the week I went for dinner with a girlfriend...dinner for two, wine for six. It was great. Earlier that day I had found out through an episode of Facebook stalking that B #1, actor, has a girlfriend. Ew. I wanted to sexily invite him over then spit in his face and kick him in the balls simultaneously and tell him thanks for helping me be a complete douchebag and ruin some poor girl's life. Asshole. But what would Nice Girl do? I simply texted him saying "you have a gf? I'm disgusted, " then blocked his number so I can't receive any texts from him. Nice Girl doesn't give a shit what he has to say....and yes, she would even use the word "shit" in this situation. So after dinner, I found myself in a lovely state of Pinot euphoria. Here was the real test. Drunk Nice Girl...is it possible? My fingers were burning I wanted to text my ex-boyfriend so bad. Why? I have no clue...because I am a beautiful mess...I am desperate for love and seemingly at my sexual peak. I know he's an easy target. But, somehow through my wine and now Miller Chill haze, I manage to abstain. Nice Girl stops drinking because she knows she has to work early, and manages to keep her fingers to herself. Nice work. Hopefully I can keep it up this weekend...

The Nice Girl Project

I have a pretty exciting history of partying in every sense of the word. Drinks? Always. Drugs? If the mood strikes me. Casual sex? Why not? Now I can psychoanalyze the deep rooted meaning of it all, or I can sum it up by saying - I like to have fun. And I'm fun to be around...I'm funny, I have a great apartment, I'm a smart girl with a good job and I DJ on the side...all in all, I'm pretty awesome. However there is one area of my life that seems to fail time and time again - MEN. I've read all the books, I know what I'm "supposed" to do, I get it. But I always seem to romanticize the idea of love and tell myself not to play games, the right man will love me for me, bla bla bla...ya, that's not working.

About two weeks ago I met this boy...25 years old, tall, gorgeous lips...an actor. I ended up partying at the club with him, then we went back to my place and had mind-blowing sex until 4:30 in the morning. I was fueled on hormones, and he was fueled on the rails he was doing every 25 minutes. I had to get up early so I kicked him out and that was Saturday.

Then on Sunday evening I get a knock on the door. Surprise! It's actor boy. He's come back for seconds...with one sock on, reeking like alcohol, and clearly had been up since the day before...yikes, but meh, I'm human and I have needs. So in he comes and we hang out for round 2. However this time was a bit different. This time he requested that we watch his godforsaken horrible show on TV...so we do...2 entire episodes, snooooore. And each time he comes on the screen he says "It's me!"...uh, ya, you're one of the main characters. He asks if I have wine and proceeds to drink the entire bottle in about an hour...needless to say he is, at this point, slurry, exhausted, messy, and apparently hearing things, since he keeps asking me "What?" when I've said nothing at all. I'm getting tired at this point, so I'm just chilling on the couch....he suddenly runs to the bathroom and is in there for a long time...I'm hoping that he's cleaning himself up a bit, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. The poor guy was paying for his coke binge the night before, and was having a nosebleed, a messy one at that. After it stopped he lay back down on the couch with me and started to pass out. Ya, no...this isn't happening. So I wake him up, and he lifts his drooling face off the couch cushion and goes but not without a fight. He REALLY wants to sleep in my place for some reason. Not happening. I had to work the next morning, and this guy seriously reeked and was a right mess. So he leaves. I go to brush my teeth and it looks like a fucking murder scene. In actor boy's drunken stupor he's managed to bleed on pretty much every visible surface. I'll spare you the details, but needless to say I spent the next half hour sanitizing the bathroom. That was Sunday.

The rest of the week was pretty mundane...work, school, the usual. Then Thursday I find myself hoping that I soon get a text from the young actor. This continues for the next several days, my pining for attention from him. It doesn't happen.

Thursday. I go to the grand opening of a new bar with my sister. Like I need a new bar...I'm not even finished with the old ones yet. We meet a couple of guys, and one of them seems to be fond of me, but I'm just not attracted to him at all. I invite us all back to my place to continue the party, as I'm getting antsy and want to spin some beats. Fast forward, and I somehow end up alone with the guy who has a crush on me. He tried to kiss me, and I pulled away. He tried again and I told him that "I'm a nice girl", and "I don't hook up with guys I just met." Quite honestly I had a hard time saying that with a straight face. I literally burst out laughing telling that to my girlfriends the next morning. Anyhoo, he apologized and later asked if we can at least cuddle, but I stood my ground on my angelic character and he finally left. He then called me 10 minutes later which I ignored, then he texted me saying I was "worth getting to know and kissing," which I also ignored. The next morning he sent another text, apologizing for trying to kiss me. I've been there, woken up feeling like a douchebag, so I texted him back a few hours later telling him "no harm done," so he didn't think it was a big deal. He writes back "Thanks." Then a few days later I get another text from him, saying I'm a really cool girl and he wants to get to know me better, would I like to go on a date sometime. Interesting.

Here I am pining away for Bachelor Number 1, a barely legal actor with poor guest manners and an apparent drug problem, and Bachelor Number 2, who I've shown absolutely no interest in, and in fact repelled his advances, is chasing me. Hm. Is it really that easy? We'll see...

I decided this week, that for the next 60 days, I will take part in "The Nice Girl Project". I am going to see if it's just that easy to get a guy to fall for me. Here are the rules:

No sex (and that means anything remotely near it)
No being "drunk" or doing drugs around guys
No drunk texting (one of my biggest addictions)
No being the sarcastic, outgoing attention-whore that my friends love
Must be a "Nice Girl"

Now let's do this...