Monday, April 28, 2008

I'm a Little Weird. A Little.

OK everyone, we’re going to keep this pretty short because work has been a beast lately, and I have (no joke) about 30 contracts to put together this week. But an update on my life is always fun, so…

-I’m still with Fancy Pants, but don’t judge me! Now that I’ve figured out it’s all sexual I feel much better about staying with him…just a little while longer. I promise!

-Went out with Linda, her new fiancĂ©, and Fancy Pants on Saturday night. It wasn’t awkward at all! (Total lie – there is pain and THEN there is what I went through this weekend.) I couldn’t decide who I liked less – my date or hers.

Yes people, my life IS awesome.

-Virg finally took my advice, and guess what? He realized I was right. Fucking duh, dude!

-So I’m talking to Christine this weekend – actually, we were at a bar watching the draft – and she asked me about my nephews. This prompted me to start cooing about them (they’re ridiculously cute, I can’t help myself), and I guess I said something along the lines of ‘And the younger one is so cute and chubby!’ Without changing her facial expression Christine replies, ‘Just like his Aunt Redhead.’

She wasn’t joking.

Now just to be clear, I’m 5’8 and weigh 120lbs. I’m not exactly a Large Girl. But Christine…ah, Christine – do I need to take another 2 month ‘mental health’ break from you? (Deep breaths, deep breaths.)

On the plus side, when I told my mother this story she had to put the phone down she was laughing so hard. I love loyalty.

-My assistant – in a fit of rage against me I guess – decided to sign me up for a 5K in June. Now, I don’t run. I exercise (regularly), but jogging has just never been my thing. Until now I guess!

Anyway, since I’m a good sport I decided to go with it. I even went out and got myself new running shoes, new jogging gear (including fancy socks that supposedly suck up my sweat), and started jogging in Central Park. Well…2 weeks in and I’ve done something fucking horrible to my Achilles and am fucking hobbling around like I’m 80 years old! (You should have seen me taking the stairs in and out of the subway this morning – in the rain no less!)

Fucking assistants.

-My cat HATES Fancy Pants. Like, she comes running towards him hissing whenever he comes over. (Keep in mind, she’s 6 pounds.) Yet this bothers him so much that he no longer wants to come over to my place – in fact, he expects me to go to his apartment all the time now.

I don’t think so.

-So, if you were a huge pink vibrator shaped like a cock, what would you name yourself? Um…I’m asking theoretically, of course.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

My Life Is a Soap Opera

Huh, so I’m a little confused right now (well, more than normal anyway). You see…hmmm, how do I say this? Fuck it: Men rarely surprise me. Now what I mean by this is a) I have a fair amount of experience interacting with men – both platonically and romantically, and b) I’m pretty good at reading people. All of that adds up to me (generally) interpreting interactions and situations well. So imagine my surprise when I got a phone call the day after I got back from Italy, from a guy I’d gone on 2 dates with before I left. Pretty contentious dates actually. A guy who I would have bet money I would never hear from again. And yet he called to say…he had MISSED me!


OK, you people need some background information here – I met him while at a cozy little wine bar on the Upper East Side about 2 weeks before I left on my trip. He was (is) tall, beautiful, and so completely and totally wrong for me that it didn’t even matter how good he looked. Everything he said kind of baffled/amused/annoyed me. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was the most surprised person in the bar when he asked for my number and I actually gave it to him.

But I did. And we went out before I left. Twice.

You know what, I need to describe this guy. Let’s call him…Fancy Pants. Fancy Pants is, first and foremost, sick rich. Like, he’s 33 and has a penthouse on 5th Avenue rich. He plays fucking polo rich. He wears nothing but designer clothes and custom-made suits rich. He exclusively dates models rich.

Are you getting a good mental picture yet?

Now, let me be clear here – I’m a fairly self-confident woman. And I DON’T think this guy is too good for me. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out why he wants me. As far as I can tell, Fancy Pants is a man who is interested in having a trophy on his arm, not a real woman. And while I like to think of myself as a catch, I am not a model. I have crazy hair that I don’t straighten every day (or…um, ever really). Most of my clothes, while nice, have at least a few cat hairs on them (I live with a cat, it’s impossible for me to avoid it). I wake up in the morning looking human. And my personality is…quirky.

Yet this guy is now fully pursuing me. Even after our first 2 dates – where we disagreed about, oh, everything – he kept calling me. He remembered what day I was getting back from Italy and called me. He took me out to dinner last night and started talking about the FUTURE for fuck’s sake. He nonchalantly mentioned that he wouldn’t want his wife to work!

Actually, that last point leads into my biggest confusion here. This guy pisses me off when he talks. He calls his mother ‘mum’ even though he’s not British. He’s obsessed with status symbols and has no concept of people who can’t afford a $500 bottle of wine with their Tuesday night dinner. He actually fucking told me that he doesn’t understand why people read novels – he feels reading the newspaper is all that’s necessary AND a much more worthwhile use of his time.


But I keep accepting dates with him. And I’m not sure why! I certainly don’t care enough about money to be seduced by that. And while he is gorgeous, there are plenty of fabulous looking men out there. So…what the fuck is going on?! I honestly can’t quite figure myself out here. I suppose I might just be fascinated by him – I mean, I am curious if there’s a real person buried in there somewhere. But…

We’re going out again tomorrow night. Linda joked that I’m going to marry him before I figure this whole thing out (I sincerely hope not, but at this point I don’t trust myself to make any smart decisions concerning him). Maybe…maybe I’m trying to fix him? I know women who do that – I’ve never been a big fan of the practice since it always seemed like a lot of wasted effort to me, but…

Yeah, enough pondering for one evening. Do any of you guys have any theories? I’m going to go pour myself a glass of wine from a nice $12 bottle – don’t tell Fancy Pants.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Guess Who’s Back? Redhead’s Back!

Hey there party people, miss me? No? Well fuck you! Sorry about that – I’m still a little jet-lagged and that seems to be making me a tad punchy so…um, deal with it. Yeah, as you can probably already tell 2 weeks in Italy hasn’t change my uniquely sunny disposition, but hey, that’s not what you guys want, right? Right?

Anyway, I’m not going to promise anything here – when I finally pull myself together and start sleeping during normal hours I expect to be able to write something marginally coherent – but in the meantime here are some snippets from my trip to keep you entertained. Oh and yes, I realize I’m a little nutty right now. I’m just SO FUCKING TIRED. OK, here goes:

-I got freaking frisked in the Madrid airport! Good times.

-I never had to go through customs when entering Europe. Passport control – yes. Customs, not so much. Anyone else concerned?

-Linda called me about 2 days into my trip and couldn’t understand why I was already asleep when she called – it was only 10:30 at night after all. Um, actually it was 4:30 in the morning for me, but dumbass here (that would be me) forgot to tell her when I would be out of town. She was understandably apologetic when she realized she had just called me overseas.

-I immediately forgave Linda for the above transgression when she told me the reason she’d called was because she’d just gotten engaged. I mentioned her (now) fiancĂ© here. I’m, um, going to be a bridesmaid. This shouldn’t be awkward at all!

Bologna and Some General Observations

-The food in Bologna is insane – never before have business dinners been this enjoyable.

-As a city, Bologna looks kind of like…New Jersey. Only every once in a while there’s something incredibly old and beautiful sitting there to remind you that it’s not quite the same thing.


-Coca Cola Light is NOT the same thing as Diet Coke.

-There’s something wrong with the water in Italy – when you’re in the shower you can’t even work up a lather when you’re shampooing. There’s hard water and then there’s…whatever the fuck they have there.

-Red Bull is available in Italy. Thank fucking God.

-There’s no such thing as Starbucks or even coffee-to-go in Italy. Hooray Red Bull!

-There’s a little bar off of the Via Indipendenza in Bologna called Swine Bar (no, I’m not kidding). It’s awesome.

-I LOVE Chianti. That is all.


-Florence is incredibly charming – by far my favorite place in Italy.

-My sister and I climbed to the top of the Duomo immediately after arriving. Some thoughts: 1) Those stairs are no joke – there were A LOT of them. 2) That should have been a clue that wherever those stairs were leading was going to be high up. 3) I’m a moron. 4) HOW did people fucking paint that ceiling when it’s SO HIGH UP?! 5) Are you noticing a theme here yet? 6) The view from the top of the Duomo (above the previously mentioned ceiling) is fucking stunning. 7) Or so I’ve been told – I had a bit of a panic attack at the top (shut up) and plastered myself to the wall while my sister took pictures and enjoyed the view.

-The people who wrote their names on the walls of the Duomo stairwell = colossal assholes.

-The David – possibly the most beautiful thing (with the exception of my nephews) that I’ve ever seen. You can see the muscles in his legs. You can see the veins in his forearms. You can even see the hollow right above his collarbone as it meets his shoulder! There are absolutely no words for that sculpture. I just…nevermind – I can’t do it justice by trying to describe it.

-More gelato – mmmmmmmmmm.

-To the guy who tried to pick me up on the steps outside the Uffizi – I don’t speak Italian and you don’t speak English. Can you see why I finally just shrugged my shoulders and walked away? Still, you were beautiful.

-Walking along the river in Florence on a beautiful spring day was one of those perfect life moments.

-More bottles of good Chianti.

-The shower in our hotel room just…it didn’t make any sense. I’m not going to go into it here, but where they put the shower head just…WHAT were they thinking? My sister and I took a picture of it because we had to show it to people when we got home.


-Sorry Bruce Paine, but I didn’t hate Venice. I also didn’t love it. It was…absolutely unique. There really is no other place like it, and I found it to be beautiful (all old buildings, narrow streets, water, and bridges). But my main thought was that it reminded me of the mall the day before Christmas – I can’t imagine what that city is like during the height of tourist season. There are SO MANY people stuffed together in these narrow winding alleyways (that’s really what most of the streets are), that I found walking around…frustrating.

-Oh, I also didn’t think it smelled there – although it is just early spring and I was told it had been cool and dry recently which probably helped.

-The pigeons are really only in San Marco Square – where yes, the sheer number of them is staggering – so again Paine, they didn’t really bother me.

-Water taxis are the way to go in Venice to get a quick little tour – don’t do the gondolas, they’re a massive ripoff.

-My sister, with her incredible sense of direction, got her ass absolutely KICKED by this city. What a fucking nightmare place to navigate. We spent way more time lost than I’m really comfortable admitting.

-The gelato in Venice sucks – those people need to get their act together. Good wine though.

And…I’m tired – let’s stop here for now. A quick wrapup – the trip was awesome but NOT relaxing. My sister and I had a fabulous time together – we’re talking quality bonding here; man, we laughed (and drank) A LOT. We both may be marginally insane, but I’d argue it’s in the best possible way. And I’m a little scared of going to work tomorrow and seeing all the emails that are waiting for me. Wish me luck!