I am still in Manhattan heaven...a little poorer than last week but rocking out nonetheless. I spent last night listening to some slam poetry/karaoke (yes, just as insane as you might think) but all was well when the full brass marching band came out filling the joint iwth great music and some lady in leather started dancing with a dog on a leash (again, just as weird as you might imagine.

In between the high-class entertainment, conversations of life and love keep popping up. Which really leaves me a little confused because, as my friend Elly so accuratley put it tonight as we were walking home, "We are a bunch of sexy ladies!" As such, it is a little bit unnerving to see all of us alone, with no men to call our own. We are smart, funny, fashionable women in New York City and somehow that isn't necessarily a plus, because around every corner there is another bunch of smart, funny, fashionable women who may just land that table next to the cute guys five minutes before us. I'm not obsessing, really, I'm just dissecting the why. Why is it so hard to meet "the one"? Why is it that every man seems to be looking for someone but that someone is never me? And the ultimate question, why do I care? I'm not salivating at the mouth for a boy-toy, really I'm not, but I would be lying if I told you that I didn't want someone to watch the Super Bowl with or argue with over who makes the best wings in NYC. I'll be honest, I'm a catch...nope, not being conceded at all, just being honest. All of my friends, in NYC and back home are catches...we deserve the best and we shouldn'thave to compromise what we want for what we finally get! Nope, I'm still in the game and like a fine wine, getting better with age. But, again, if we are being honest, my cork is just about ready to pop!