Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Rebounding Law Student: 26, female, Chelsea, straight, law student.
DAY ONE
8:15 a.m.: Feeling groggy after staying up until 2 a.m. perusing Nerve.com’s personals. The ex and I mutually broke up last week after show at Bowery Ballroom. I’m doing relatively okay, and the online searching is progress. But my friend was right — too many trashy hipsters. They are oh-so-adorable trashy hipsters, though.
8:42 a.m.: See well-groomed guy in navy wool coat, khakis, and leather shoes on the subway. I need to date someone like him instead of the man-boy in a hoodie, jeans, and Nike high-tops that I broke up with last week.
11:40 a.m.: See Heath Ledger on a magazine and momentarily get scared for my ex taking a similar cocktail of drugs, even though he assured me before we broke up that he’s not doing that anymore. He’s so doing that.
1:38 p.m.: Afternoon class canceled, came home early to clean my bedroom. I think today is the day to clear out the remnants of the ex (the beer bottle, his cigarette butts) and wash the sheets that still smell like him.
3:59 p.m.: Read an article on how some women get intense orgasms as they are giving birth. I am really turned on and a little horrified at the same time. I resist the urge to masturbate. I need to go pick up laundry.
4:24 p.m.: Couldn’t resist the urge. Amazing orgasm, now going to pick up laundry.
7:07 p.m.: See the ex on GChat for the first time since we broke up a week ago. Very tempted to talk to him but decide to concentrate on watching Jeopardy. I should block him.
9:43 p.m.: Girlfriends comes over for Project Runway. My friend is putting her boyfriend on notice, saying that he’s just not there for her when she needs him. I tell her to leave him if she thinks she’s wasting time. We talk about how we want to settle down and have kids. Are we really having this conversation?
DAY TWO
2:34 p.m.: Read Times article on downsized male models. Reminds me of the super skinny ex. I really need to get away from these types, but they’re so freaking hot. Old habits are hard to break.
3:53 p.m.: See two beautiful men on the G. They recognize each other and start a conversation. Do all the beautiful men of the world know each other?
6:21 p.m.: Wake up from nap. Had a dream about a late teen asking me for my number after what seems to have been a dare. Even still, I offer my phone number. I’m pathetic even in my dreams.
8:58 p.m.: Post Craigslist ad for a possible non-date. Title of my post? “Let’s do something decisively un-romantic.”
9:59 p.m.: One decent response for the Craigslist ad. He’s not a vegetarian, thank God. Then the responses taper off to zero.
12:49 a.m.: Writing back and forth with a Dan from Williamsburg. Discussing the Radegast Beer Hall, kielbasa, and Oasis (the band). The reading for tomorrow is not going to get done.
12:59 a.m.: Dan just sent me a picture of himself. He’s not waif thin. He has gelled hair and is wearing a button-down shirt in both pictures he sent. I’m not attracted.
DAY THREE
10:33 a.m.: Listened to the song that was playing when we broke up, Chromeo, on the way to school and didn’t get overly emotional about it.
1:47 p.m.: More responses to the Craigslist ad. “Strong interest in the occult”? Archived. “Enjoy working with my hands, biking around, reading The New Yorker“? Starred.
8:47 p.m.: At Big Bar in East Village for friend’s birthday party. My goal was to talk to two or three guys, but there’s no one really interesting that I want to talk to. Complain with girlfriends about the lack of eligible bachelors.
1:24 a.m.: We’re dancing on the stage at Hugs in Williamsburg with a group of kids that again seem like they’re barely legal. The one boy is dancing quite close to us — not sure whether he’s into me or my friend, but we end up having a great time.
1:56 a.m.: The group of kids leave once the “old” drunk lady comes up onstage. We decide to leave at the same time. See the boy that I’ve been dancing with all night. Give him a wave and a smile as I walk out the door.
DAY FOUR
2:46 p.m.: At Sound Fix Lounge with Gemma, trying to do work. Completely distracted, I decide to post a missed connection about the boy I was sort of dancing with. I include a disclaimer, “only write back if you’re not under 21.”
4:48 p.m.: Still distracted. Write back to “enjoy working with my hands”.
6:14 p.m.: “Enjoy working with my hands” writes back. His name is Seth. He’s a set constructor. Sounds promising.
10:24 p.m.: Arrive at a party in Washington Heights with friends. Can’t believe I actually left Brooklyn, especially since the L train was going crazy. Jack, a friend of Gemma, arrives at the same time. Gemma has been trying to get me to hook up with Jack, but I just don’t feel it. We’ll see what happens tonight.
11:17 p.m.: There are a lot of tall people here. I am straining my neck to trying to listen to their conversation. Jack suggests we sit down and chat. He’s super sweet.
11:24 p.m.: Jack and I chat about relationships. I dump on him about the ex. This is not a good way to make a move on a guy.
12:44 a.m.: It’s becoming a great dance party. Jack is dancing close, but he’s not making any moves on me. Too bad.
2:15 a.m.: Time to go. Gemma, Jack, and I get ready to leave, but Gemma pulls a “I think I’m staying” move on me. Jack and I leave together.
3:03 a.m.: Jack and I go our separate ways. He gives me a hug. He’s a sweetheart, tall, built, and really cute but there’s really nothing romantic or sexual going on here.
DAY FIVE
4:48 p.m.: E-mail from Seth the set constructor. He’s down for a drink tomorrow night. I’m excited.
DAY SIX
7:21 a.m.: Miss the ex a lot. I want to see him.
9:03 a.m.: Spill coffee on my computer before class starts. Computer goes blank. I am horrified and burst into tears.
1:17 p.m.: E-mail Seth on roommate’s computer to cancel date. Tell him I wouldn’t be a good date tonight not knowing whether all of my class notes disappeared in my computer.
5:41 p.m.: Receive e-mail (on roommate’s computer) from the ex for the first time since breaking up. He writes to tell me that he got fired the day after we broke up, and that he’s been in an alcoholic haze for the last two weeks. I start crying.
6:09 p.m.: Seth e-mails to say he’s relieved we’re not meeting tonight — it’s too rainy outside. Wants to reschedule for Wednesday.
DAY SEVEN
4:12 p.m.: Write back to the ex. Asks him why he sent me that e-mail when he knew that I still care for him a lot. The whole e-mail turns out very angry and bitter.
4:30 p.m.: The ex writes back. He just wanted to let me know what he’s been up to and why he hadn’t contacted me for the last two weeks. He’s confused and frustrated at my response.
5:03 p.m.: Write back, telling him that I am angry at him for acting like he was my boyfriend when he clearly didn’t have any intention of ever becoming one. Tell him that I don’t want to hear from him until further notice and don’t want to see him until further notice.
6:03 p.m.: Victory! Computer working.
8:18 p.m.: Write to Seth, tell him my computer is working again and ask whether he wants to hang out tomorrow.
8:21 p.m.: Seth writes back. He can meet tomorrow at 6:30 p.m. in the East Village. It’ll be a great rebound. Hope he’s as great as he looks on paper.
Totals: One recent breakup; one act of masturbation; one night out dancing with the girls; one rebound ad on Craigslist, which garners one potentially good response; one emotionally manipulative e-mail from ex, leading to pissy e-mails and weeping; one computer meltdown.
Interested in being a diarist? We’re looking for new volunteers (especially men!), so if you’d like to join in, e-mail us at intel@nymag.com!
