S-A. T-U-R. D-A-Y. Night!

Man oh man. Here's the thing about doing nothing all day...it makes you do nothing all day. At work I was spitting these entries out everyday. Now, I can't force myself to write them. But, I feel like I owe it to my readers (all three of them) to write with some consistency. So I'll do better. Today was somewhat productive, relatively speaking. I got a haircut. I shaved. I went to the East Village and looked around...Ummm...that's pretty much it. I know, it's pitiful, but at least I left the apartment. Well, I'm taking Hoboken Girl out this Saturday. We're going to dinner. I'm sure I'll take her to Radio Perfecto, which is the exact same restaurant I took both First Girl and New Girl on our respective first dates. I'm a creature of habit, what can I say. I'm actually really looking forward to it. I can feel things with New Girl starting to fizzle. The root of our problems can be narrowed down to this...she's an only child. Now I know that's no reason to write her off, but her only-childness definitely comes out. In fact, despite the fact that we've been seeing each other for four weeks, I really don't feel like she knows shit about me. She talks and talks and talks about herself, but doesn't really stop to listen to what I have to say. And when there is a moment of silence, and I feel like I can interject something about myself, it comes out as a vomit of information. A tightly bundled clump of facts, since brevity is key when you're dating someone who does 85% of the talking. Sheesh. It all came to a head last week when I found out she was going out of town, yet again, and is going out of town again next weekend. I explained that it was disappointing that she was out of town every single weekend, and that I found it interesting I was dating someone who I never saw. Now, I know I have no right to tell her when she can and can't leave town. I wasn't trying to. I was just trying to tell her that I hated that I only saw her for one hour a week, and felt so pressured to make that hour count, that I could never relax. Honestly, I was expecting a "I know I'm out of town every weekend. It won't always be like this. Let's get together sometime this week." Instead I got, "well, I've got a lot of friends, and I'm always busy. And I'm not gonna apologize for that." Ouch. Christ, woman. I didn't want an apology, I was just hoping you'd, oh, I don't know, try to look at things from someone else's perspective. I guess that was an impossible request.
Anyway, we don't talk near as much as we used to, and I can see her interest disappearing, which is disappointing. She's a really cool chick. Hopefully Saturday night will change my point of view about everything. I really don't have any expectations at all. Which is good. With New Girl, I put myself out there way too soon, since I knew I was in direct competition with her, jeez, boyfriend. Now I can tuck my jealousy and paranoia into my back pocket and try to enjoy the night on it's most basic level. Ahh....relief.
Anyway, I'm sick of typing the words "First Girl," "New Girl," and "Hoboken Girl," so I'll let the readers give them names. It'll be like that last scene in The Neverending Story. Throw open the window and scream their new names into the rain. It'll be fun.