Friday, September 26, 2008

Some Friday Thoughts

NYC Weather Report: Today is wet, with a side of ‘holy fuck that’s a lot of rain.’ My socks are damp and I’m stuck in them for the rest of day; I hate that.

Song I Listened to This Morning and Enjoyed: Down In A Hole by Alice in Chains. Yeah, it’s been that kind of morning.

Moment I Realized I Should Have Been a Lawyer: When my boss brought me into a meeting yesterday to negotiate the specifics of a deal SHE was working on; she said I was the ‘expert.’ I just think she knows I'm willing to do her dirty work. Oh, and I hate to lose. Anyway long story short, when the dust had cleared and the other side had left, my boss turned to me and said simply, ‘You’re mean!’ She said it in kind of an admiring way, but shit Sherlock.

Worst Grandchild in the World Award Goes To…: It was my grandmother’s birthday last week. She also ended up in the hospital a couple of days ago because she fainted. I FINALLY got around to calling her last night. And I honestly have no excuse. Admittedly I have some issues with her (which I won’t get into here), but still, she’s the only grandparent I have left now. And for the past few years she’s really been trying to fix things. So how do I repay that? By being a lazy asshole, that’s how.

Person I Have an Irrational Dislike For: David Blaine. I still don’t think I’m clear on what he does for a living. Anyone know?

Gratuitous Picture of a Hot Man…Because I Can: Michael Ballack (yet another soccer/football player).

Happy Friday everyone. Does anyone still read this blog?

Wednesday, September 24, 2008


Let me preface this post by saying I’m not boy crazy. Yes, I’ve dated a lot of men in the past (fuck it, I’m single and live in NYC), and yes, I flirt a lot. But trust me when I say I spend more nights sitting at home in my pajamas than I do going out and partying. OK, just wanted to get that out there before telling this story:

So I go to the elevator at the end of the day yesterday and am (as usual) not paying any attention when it comes. Basically this means I don’t look up when I step into the car because I’m too busy searching for my iPod (most often buried in my purse under lipstick, pens, random receipts, and tampons).

Anyway, imagine my surprise when I finally look up and find myself standing next to a ridiculously hot guy. In a work elevator (that really never happens). Tall, dark, handsome, etc., etc. My first thought was ‘Damn, I hope he didn’t see the tampons.’ This was followed quickly by my second thought of ‘This guy looks kind of familiar, but I’m SURE I would’ve remembered him if we’d worked together...I think.’

So trying not to stare, I spent a couple of seconds trying to place him. Finally I gave up and decided we must have passed in the hallway at some point. And since we apparently work for the same company and all, it’s only right that I be friendly and say hello…

Redhead: Hi, I’m Redhead.
Gorgeous: Yeah, I know.
Redhead: (Quickly trying to figure out if this means we have worked together, or whether this means he’s gone out of his way to learn my name from someone else in the company, which would be AWESOME.)
Gorgeous: It’s been a while though. I didn’t know you were working here.
Redhead: (Huh, ookkkayyy. So I’m guessing this means we actually know each other. And we know each other from…nope. I have no FUCKING clue. SHIT! What do I say now? Do I pretend to remember him? And how exactly does one forget a hottie like this? Is this some sign of early senility? Should I be concerned? What the fuck is wrong with me?!)
(Long pause)
Redhead: Yeah, I’ve been here for about a year. You?
Gorgeous: A little less…

Blah, blah, blah. You get the point – I tried to make small talk on the LONGEST elevator ride ever, and then ran for it when we finally reached the lobby. And all the while I was wondering what my problem was. How had I forgotten this guy? And more importantly, WHERE did I know him from? It was like it was right on the tip of my tongue (or back of my brain – you know what I mean) and I COULDN’T GRAB IT! And it was driving me NUTS.

Finally, after going home, eating dinner, watching some tv, and relaxing enough to begin to fall asleep, it hit me…

HOLY SHIT! I DATED that guy. Years ago. And it was more than one date too. Yet I totally blanked on it, him, etc. Is that normal? In fact, let me pose the question again: What’s wrong with me?

Cliffs Notes version of how we met: A few years ago I was out with Christine celebrating my birthday. At some point we ended up a bar with a bunch of her business school friends. While in the middle of a conversation, Christine looked around, spotted someone, and said under her breath to me, ‘I just figured out what I’m giving you for you birthday.’

‘More drinks?’ I asked (see, I’m easy).

‘Nope,’ she replied, ‘better.’ And with that she called Gorgeous over – he was in her class at Columbia. She introduced us, made herself scarce, and I took care of the rest. He was a very, very nice present.

But as with all my relationships, it ended. I moved on, (apparently) forgot him, and was totally fine with that. Until now. Now I’ve been reminded of how cute he is (and what a spaz I am). And…yeah, I’m screwed.

Conclusion: This can really only go badly for me in the long run. Gorgeous works for the same company I do, I’ve already made a fool of myself in front of him once, I feel distinctly uncomfortable around him now, and I’m currently taking a break from men. Yeah. So…who wants to put odds on how long it will take me to do something (else) stupid? Anyone? Anyone?

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Girls Are Weird

There’s a girl in my office who’s getting married this weekend. She’s been planning the wedding for-fucking-ever, but I’m pretty good at tuning people out so it never really got on my nerves before now. (Generally speaking, if I’m not related to you or I’m not REALLY good friends with you, I don’t care what your dress looks like, what flowers you’re going to carry, or what ‘color-scheme’ you’re going for. That’s just an FYI.) But this week…holy shit.

Don’t get me wrong, I know weddings take a lot of planning, are (unnecessarily) expensive, and can stress a (relatively) normal person out. I understand all of this. I just don’t want to hear about it. But holy shit there are a lot of women who do.

Note: I’m not a monster or a bitter spinster, I swear to you I’m not, but I don’t understand big weddings. They just seem so wasteful. And yes, unnecessary. I say give me a beach, family, and a HUGE cake (shut up, we all have our thing), and I’d be good to go. It would be like a vacation/wedding, no superfluous people needed or invited. Perfect, right? But where was I?

Oh yes, the squealing. What’s with all the fucking squealing?

Let me explain – for the past 2 weeks, every time the bride-to-be has mentioned the wedding, all the women in the office have starting squealing. And it’s getting on my fucking nerves. I swear to God they’re making noises only dogs can hear. Is this a female thing? Please tell me I’ve never made those sounds in my life, I…I just couldn’t live with myself if I have. I mean, no wonder men think we’re all insane – at least a good majority of us just might be.

Horrifying thought for the day.

That is all.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

I Have a Death Wish

So I’ll admit, I was a little cranky this morning. I’m working on this freelance gig for a very demanding and more than a little eccentric guy, and it’s already starting to drive me insane (the dude emails and calls me up to 5 times a day – I’m writing a book proposal for him – and I don’t walk to ANYONE that much). Anyway, I’m using that as my defense. What happened, you ask? Well…

I’m standing on the train this morning, dealing with the usual subway bullshit, when this lardass woman who was sitting in front of me actually leaned forward in her seat (thereby forcing me to back up into the mass of humanity all around me or risk getting her face in my crotch), and stretched. I looked at her incredulously after this, and all she did was lower her eyes and pretend she didn’t realize what she’d done (pussy).

Meanwhile I was already annoyed with her, because there was a little 4-year-old boy STANDING next to me while this beached whale SAT. So I gave her my most withering look, said point blank to her face ‘Well, you do look like you need the extra room,’ and turned to find another place to stand (like far, far away from the scene of the crime).

I would like to point out at this juncture that the Massive Behemoth was not only fat, but she also looked kind of tough. Like she could kick my ass with one hand tied behind her back tough. Hell, she could sit on me and I’d probably expire. Yet still I opened my big mouth and insulted her.

And as I was walking away all I could think was ‘I’m going to die. I can’t believe I just did that!’ I mean, I’m a keep-my-mouth-shut-and-just-think-bad-thoughts type of person, ESPECIALLY on the train (in other words, I’m not stupid…normally). Yet this morning, not so much.

Long story short, I’m sitting here writing this post so it turns out she didn’t kill me. I also got some of my latent aggression out while scaring the shit out of myself, so I see that as a kind of positive exorcism. Hell, it might even end up being a good thing – I got my stupid out for the day before even hitting the office. How’s everyone else out there? Who else almost got their asses kicked before 8 in the morning? Anyone?

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

This Will Be Short

Hey, I'm about to run into meetings all day (literally - I have a 10am meeting and will not get a break until 5pm; on the plus side, I'm getting lunch out of the whole deal). But before I go, a thought:

I'm as big a fan of high heels as a woman can get - stilettos, chunky heels, pumps, boots - you name it, I enjoy wearing it. But the thing is, I know how to walk in heels. I roll from the support of the heel to the ball of my foot, and I keep my stride easy and even. THAT is what makes me look good in them. You know who doesn't look good in them? Women who can't walk in them. So to all the women out there who are wearing heels because they feel they should, but really have no idea how to choose said heels OR how to move in the right ones (thereby giving themselves the Mummy/Lurch Walk) - STOP. You don't look sexy, you look stupid. Get yourselves a pair of heels that are comfortable (the bottoms should give a little when you move), practice at home in them, and then ONLY if you truly feel comfortable after all of that, go out in public in them. I'm begging you - you're making me uncomfortable just watching you, and I can't imagine how stupid you must feel (you know you look stupid, right?). Okey doke?

That was my public service announcement for the day. Damn, now I'm late!

Friday, September 5, 2008

I’m Mean on Fridays

-OK, so not to be a bitch here (oh who am I kidding?), but who’s with me that Bristol Palin is batting WAY out of her league when it comes to her baby-daddy? This dude may be enjoying the attention now, and I’m sure he enjoyed the begetting of the child, but trust me – at some point he’s going to look over at this chick and think ‘I’m settling for THAT for the rest of my life?’

-Guys, you may not want to click this link. Ladies, what can I say to prepare you…? Nope, I’ve got nothing. I will only say that I found this picture of Luis Figo (soccer player)…intriguing.

-So my assistant went on a date last night, and like I asked her to (I didn’t think she’d actually do it) she took a picture of the dude and texted it to me so I could pass judgment within the comfort of my own home. However, it was what she wrote to go along with the picture that really said it all: ‘I’m asking all the questions.’ I totally understood. Men out there (and women too), the trick is to ask questions when out on a date! People like to talk about themselves, so get them talking. But for the morons in the audience, that goes both ways. If you don’t get asked questions in return for all your hard work, bail out. Losers are a dime a dozen, but the keepers are the ones who really want - and make an effort - to get to know you (and realize it when they’re NOT). I plan on meeting one someday. (A keeper, not a loser - I know TONS of losers.)

-Whoever invented the granola bar was a genius.

-Hey, did I mention to everyone that I’m going to Germany next month for work? My question here is, how can I go to the land of beer and brats and NOT eat the brats. That would just leave me with…ooh, hey, beer! Yeah, I’ll probably be okay.

-I totally just came into some paint, brushes, and a ‘practice pad’ of paper. You don’t realize it, but you have the next Bob Ross of art entertaining you right now. FYI.

-This is the kind of hard-hitting journalism I’ve come to expect from US Weekly.

-Oh, and will someone let me know when this chick finally SHUTS UP about her private life? NO ONE CARES!!!!!!!!! (Sorry I even linked to that – I didn’t bother to read what was written, but for some reason the title set me off.)

OK, I need to do some work now. Happy Friday everyone!

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Sometimes I’m Not So Cool

So I was just in a meeting, and it turns out I’m a moron. That’s actually the moral of the story – I decided to start with it rather than make you wait. Why am I a moron, you ask? Well, let’s just say the rep we were meeting with was this adorable…stud (there’s really no other word to use, sorry). Blond hair, kind of shy and awkward but smart and sexy as hell at the same time, REALLY nice hands (it’s a weird thing with me, shut up); suffice it to say, he was a nice package. And I am a sucker for a nice package.

On the other hand I was (am) just a spaz. Oh, I thought I was acting cool and in control at the time (I may be delusional), but it turns out... You see, I THOUGHT I was speaking normally, acting normally, and generally just coming across like a fully functioning adult. I thought I had stopped acting like an asshole around hot men way back in high school. But it TURNS OUT…not so much.

All I know is that the second Cute Rep was gone, my assistant turned to me and said ‘What was wrong with you in there?’

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked.

‘You weren’t making any sense. You normally come across like you have a brain. I don’t think some of what you said was even English!’

(OK, a) fuck, and b) no, my assistant isn’t even a little afraid of me.)

Cue me, staring dumbly.

‘So what’s up? Were you into him or something?’ she persisted.

‘I, um…I MAY have been attracted to the guy,’ I mumbled (turning about 12 shades of red). Mind you, this is the second time in roughly 2 weeks that she’s caught me flirting (well, we’re giving me a lot more credit than I deserve to call what I did today ‘flirting’) with a guy on the job. It goes without saying that this is not the example I want to be setting for her.

But I digress. Essentially, my points here are 1) I need to remember to act like I'm at work when I'm at work, 2) I am not always smooth with guys, 3) I am a freak and can make a fool of myself like nobody's business, and 4) I hope to never see this guy again (unless he thinks strange women who can't form coherent sentences are hot, because then...well then my friends, I am there).

Yeah. So...

Happy Wednesday everybody.

(Oh, and 2 posts in 1 day - suck on THAT complainers!)

I Promise This Is a One-Time Deal

I never discuss politics here. There are many reasons I have not in the past – if I think you people are sensitive about everyday stuff (and let’s face it, many of you are), I cannot imagine the shitstorm a political argument would create – but the honest to God truth for why I don’t discuss politics at this little site is simple: I get enough real life in real life; we don’t need to have deep and meaningful discussions when I can entertain you people with stories about what a dumbass I am. I like to keep this place pretty much ‘depth free’ – in other words, I enjoy just how shallow my little corner of the Internet can be. But sometimes I’m just too damn opinionated for my own good. So without getting too into my beliefs and political leanings here, let me just say the following and be done with it:

I could not be enjoying this (oh, and this) more.