Muffy is here, ya'll!

I've been working on my introduction for awhile now, trying to pin down the perfect combination of words to tell my story. I've wanted to tell the truth, but not the whole truth. What I'm looking for, what I've experienced and what I hope to find. It's hard to beat around the bush. So, here it is. Uncensored. Full of color. Sometimes funny. A little bit awkward. Extremely optimistic.

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I'm a new New Yorker. Four months and some change. I haven't even gotten one full season of New York City under my belt, and I'm already in love. 25 (okay, fine. Almost 26) years old, single, and I'm falling in love with a city. Not just any city, it's New York FUCKING City, but shouldn't I be married by now? Atleast in a committed relationship and talking about tying the knot? Dreaming up the most fabulous of reception venues and gushing over Vera's new collection? I'm from the South, I'm invited to atleast 10 weddings per year, this is not abnormal. This is also one of the many reasons why I chose to get the hell outta dodge. And, just so I don't sound superficial, may I also add that I was in dire need of a new career path, a new lifestyle, a change of scenery, and of course, a new dating pool.

It's impossible to move anywhere without some baggage. I came here on a one-way ticket with only two suitcases. One interview lined up and a temporary place to stay. Some call it "the right place at the right time," I call it fate. There was no time for goodbyes and good lucks, for the most part I didn't even tell anyone I was leaving. So I left and have yet to return. This may present a problem to some, but I found it to be the most perfect and sound escape. It wasn't neat and clean, nor organized or well executed. But the second that plane took off, I knew my life would never be the same.

Okay enough of me reliving my glory day, back to the baggage. Mine comes in the form of The Ex and The Best(Lover)Friend. Honestly, I'm not sure why The Ex is still in the picture. It was 6 years in the making, and I did the breaking up. He was great in college, bad in the post-grad world. Great as a first love, terrible as a forever love. The sex was great...for about a month. About 3 years and one lover-on-the-side-in, I realized I had perfected the most amazing of fake orgasms with him laying beside me. This is a horrible realization. Why didn't I get out then? Your guess is as good as mine. Regardless, move forward all these years and he's still in the picture. For some ungodly reason. He has a girlfriend now, and I still get giddy when he sends me a text telling me that I'm on his mind. It's sick that I enjoy it, and is more than likely bad karma. Whatever. I just like the reminder of how far I've come. Not to mention I haven't even laid eyes on him in 2 years? He'd die if he saw me now.

And then there's The Best(Lover)Friend. I'd love to give a brief synopsis. But, I think I'd rather let you figure things out on your own. Because honestly, I have no fucking clue with this one. Are we friends? Or battling our way through the most confusing and inconvenient of relationships/friendships? I forever question if I like him like that or if he likes me like that? I mean, doesn't everyone communicate (in some form or fashion) with their best guy friend everyday? That's normal for friends, right? Of course it is...not. I'm not stupid. It's a bizarre relationship - just wait and see for yourself. Sometimes you'll want to cry for me, most of the time you'll laugh your ass off and then sometimes you'll be on the edge of your seat waiting to see if his oddly worded 2am weeknight e-mail followed by his mid-morning USPS delivered mix tape means something or nothing at all?

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It's only fitting that I include this song recently sent from The Best(Lover)Friend. Click here. And yes, I already know what you're thinking.

Would love to spill more, but I've got some "googling of boys I met this weekend" to do.

xoxo - m.