Go here to catch up on Jade's original diary. 

So….here I am chilling at home waiting for Denise to come and get me.  It is New Year’s Eve.  My desire to put 2007 to rest cannot be explained with just mere words.  It has not been the year I envisioned when I was toasting 2007 in with what I thought would be lifelong friends and my future husband.  A lot has changed since the last time I saw January.  I am single.  I’m in a different university and work part time at an advertising agency.  I also completely overhauled my room.  I decided that the coming of the New Year  would be a perfect time to start a diary of my new beginning. 

I haven’t seen Tyrell since I transferred to Rutgers.  Sometimes I miss him terribly.  He was my war buddy.  We went through hell and back together.  We were rejected and licked each other’s wounds—maybe too much.  I have to laugh after writing that.  I have no regrets with what happened between us; I think we both grew from the experience.  We still text each other from time to time.  Neither one of us has made an attempt to try to see each other.  Lord knows what would happen if we did.  I don’t see or talk anyone from the Magnificent Seven anymore.  I sort of like it that way.  I think it helped in the healing process. 

I am still dating Greg, but this dating situation can only be compared to a long distance relationship.  He lives in Brooklyn, but it might as well be Kansas.  I hardly ever get to see him.  It has gotten to the point that I have to make an appointment with his admin to see him.  I told him in October that I felt like he had no time for me.  He said he would “take corrective measures to alleviate my concerns.”  I love the way he talks.  Unfortunately that was all it was.  He has done absolutely nada since October to make more of an effort to see me.  I’m starting to get bored, but still I press on.  When we do talk our conversations are off da hook.  On the rare occasion that we do go out I am treated better than I ever have been  before.  I guess that is why I stick around—the promise of what could be glitters so brightly.  But one thing 2007 has taught me is that all that glitters truly ain’t gold.  I must tread lightly and not let my usual tendency to over fantasize take hold.  Suffice to say, I haven’t slept with him yet. 

I have learned from giving up the goods too fast.  That doesn’t mean I've been suffering from a dry spell.  Since I transferred to Rutgers I have found myself a sex buddy.  What a cutie!  Chocolate….ummmm…..like Mr. Hershey molded the brother himself.  The body…flawless, every muscle is thoroughly defined.  Skin is smooth.  He is a Kappa and steps as well.  I call him my black Brad Pitt.  I tried taking our relationship out of the bedroom, but every attempt has met with utter disaster.   

He is one of those “good hair” brothers.  He thinks just because he has Indian hair that women will fall all over him.  The problem is that women young and old confirm his asinine notions.  Chicks old enough to be his mama break their necks to give him their number, and chicks our age have no shame.  Thank God its winter, now females will be forced to wear clothes for a few months.  I tell you that this man shortage has definitely turned some females into savages.   

On top of the idiot bitches I would have to spar with for his complete devotion, he has the audacity to think a woman’s purpose is to serve men.  His ideas are completely prehistoric.  In his mind a woman is supposed to work, bring home the bacon, fry it in a pan, serve it on a plate, and give porn star blow jobs while he dictates what should be done around the house.  The hole in his theory comes into play when a woman he has hypnotized with sex realizes that he is a twenty-one-year-old king with no castle and no coins to fund the kingdom.  Once I told him at a dinner in which he contributed nothing towards the bill, “Make sure you preserve that golden tool.”   That arrogant bastard had the nerve to respond, “It’s not gold…it’s platinum mama.  And watch your slick mouth or you won’t get any."  After that I thought it was best to keep our association in between the sheets and on my command.   

My parents haven’t met him.  In fact they haven’t met anyone since Justin, not even Tyrell.  Speaking of Tyrell, did I already write that I miss him?  I do.  The sex with Ty was much more sensual and passionate.  Sex with the black Brad Pitt has reduced me to the same old simulation of a porn star routine.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m content; it just isn’t the same as it was with Ty.  Sometimes I think that I will never find that type of sensation and intimacy again.  It’s all good though, at least I can say I had it once.   

Denise finally came to pick me up.  I must say we were looking absolutely fierce for our excursion to Atlantic City.  Denise wore a red tube top dress and strappy heels.  I was looking stunning in a gold halter dress and knee high glitter boots.  The ride down was fast.  The angels must have been on our side.  We were doing at least twenty miles per hour over the speed limit.  The state troopers didn’t stop us once.  The radar in Denise’s mom’s car didn’t hurt either.  By the time we reached A.C. I was a little toasty.  Denise and I had filled up three bottles of cranberry juice with sangria.  Greg told me text him when we arrived.  I did and wished him a Happy New Year.   

Needless to say we were ready.  Two single ladies stepping into the Taj Mahal ready to step off with some high rollers.  We made a pact a week ago not to bring sand to the beach.  All jump offs, sex buddies, potential boyfriends and stalkers stay at home.  We were independent women ringing in the New Year in style and on the hunt for some decent bachelors to add to our phone list.   

I must admit that I was very anxious about the New Year.  I had butterflies.  I was nervous like a teenager going on her first date.  I felt reborn…like once 2008 hits I would be shot into the world full grown similar to Aphrodite rising from the sea.  The world seems so new and scary to me.  I had been through so much in ’07, and I wish for so much in ’08.  I hope all my dreams will come into fruition. Besides, this was going to be the first time that I wasn’t with a date or a boyfriend in quite some time.  It was going to be weird not holding and kissing someone when the clock strikes twelve and 2008 begins. I guess for the first time I really felt alone. 

Thank God for Denise.  The events of summer ’07 really renewed our friendship.  After Denise returned to California her and I talked, text messaged, and My Space everyday.  It is great having my true best friend back.  When we walked in the casino we were dressed and ready to kill, but the only thing that got killed were our hopes.  We didn’t bring sand, but every grain of sand on this beach was already taken.  Everyone was with a date.  Even the old freakin’ geezers had dates.  The only ones without dates were the sorry ass bum dudes, and who wants to hook up with them.  Since we were not with anyone, who do you think the bums tried to cling to?  You got it….us.  I was too through.  I told Denise we should have went to the city.  Defeated Denise and I drowned our boredom at EGO, a lounge in the casino.  We arrived around eight and were there listening to corny sounds of "Louie Louie" for hours.  By eleven we were ripped, the night and the cretins hanging around us became a joke.  

Suddenly around eleven my stomach began to bubble.  I knew something was wrong.  I told Denise we had to find a bathroom.  I was in that stall for thirty minutes pooping my brains out.  Diarrhea…could the night get any worse?  Some way to welcome in 2008, damn didn’t I suffer enough in ’07?  Denise thought I had passed out or something.  Of course you know she had jokes.  “Damn….Stinky McNasty.  No more liquor for your lightweight ass.”

“Come on Dee.  You know I can hang.”   

“Hang over the toilet you mean.  Jade you know you were never a drinker.  You get drunk off a shot.  Please don’t make me run your file.” 

We got back to get EGO only to be told by security that they were letting no more people in because the lounge had reached max capacity.  Are you kidding me?  It didn’t even matter that we had been in there before; we left and lost our spot.  Now we had to stand outside looking in like the rest of the losers.  I was ready to go.  There was ten minutes left to 2007 and we had no dates and no drinks.  Then I felt my purse vibrate.  I checked my phone and I had a text message from Greg:  I’m here at the Taj.  Where are you baby?  I was shocked and elated.  I HAVE BEEN SAVED!  My knight in shiny BMW had come to rescue me.  I quickly replied to tell him where I was.  He reached me with two minutes to spare.  Denise could barely squeeze out a hello before he whisked me off to a corner, which was quite difficult considering the amount of people.  The next thing I knew everyone was screaming and clapping.  Rattlers were going off and people were grabbing their phones.  Greg hugged me and picked me up.  We began to kiss.  We stopped and started kissing again.  I squeezed him tighter and said, “Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year baby!  We need to be lovers this year.  Let’s start this year right.  I booked us room.” 

Lovers….Am I really ready to go there with him????