It's Only Tuesday

Shockingly, painfully hungover. Had a business dinner last night – we started with drinks at 6:30, had a couple of cocktails before sitting down to dinner, drank several bottles of wine with dinner, scotches with dessert, and finally, blessedly, we finished up around midnight.

I grabbed a cab home, and at some point realized that my motor skills were not what they should be (barely had the capability to make it up the stairs to my apartment, and it took me a few minutes to figure out how to unlock my door). Thought I would die when my alarm went off at 6:15 this morning, but like a champ I got up. My boss looked like hell when she arrived in the office, my assistant only just got here (almost an hour late), apparently I sent out a couple of emails that weren’t exactly coherent (since I was the first one at my desk and felt I should do something – I'm so stupid), and we’re all hurting. A lot. Life sucks all around, and we have another business dinner tonight. Also, company Christmas party tomorrow night, a date on Thursday night, and another date on Friday night – help. Just want to curl up and die.

Note: It seems our waiter last night was given my phone number – I was not the one who gave it to him. How does this kind of shit happen at a business dinner, you ask? I don’t know. I just do not know.

Any and all hangover cures are welcome in the comments section. Fuck, I’m not going to make it.

Cheating = Bad

Okay you asked for it (actually, Cobra asked for it) – what are my real feelings on Tiger and the whole cheating scandal? Well, not to completely pile on to a story that has already been beaten to death, but…

(Disclaimer: Please keep in mind that I’m an extremely opinionated person, and that I have an edge to my personality that can seem a little harsh to people who don’t know me well. Because of this I’ve moved away from doing too many opinion pieces around here – mainly because people freak the fuck out and don’t seem to get that I have humor and sanity hidden behind what I say. But I do, so calm down. Okay?)

Alright, my thoughts on cheating in general (I believe I’ve said this here before): If you want to be with someone other than your partner, and you’re not married, feel free – but end your current relationship first you spineless dipshit! You’re not legally bound to the person, but still show some fucking respect and end things properly before moving on; you don’t want to be that guy/girl. However, I will concede that if you aren’t married and you do cheat, it is not the end of the world and no physical harm should come to you. Dickhead.

Now, if you are married…sucks to be you! I’m imagining you willingly entered into the institution of marriage, where you swore to remain faithful, so..there you go. It’s not complicated – you’re married, you want to fuck someone else, but you DON’T. Because you made the choice to spend the rest of your life with that one person, and you gave your word to not fuck with their trust (maybe not with exactly that verbiage, but you get my point), so man up. It’s called willpower. Cheating is a practice of the mentally and emotionally weak. I have no respect for the weak.

And as for Cobra’s little clarification, “My post request is for professional athletes and marriage, not normal people. Huge difference.” Well my friend, I beg to differ. I don’t think there is a difference. Does money and opportunity really make a difference? Look, I can see that some couples enter into marriage with different ground rules than others, and I can’t speak to that. I will say that I have gotten the impression Tiger’s wife wasn’t cool with the idea of her man fucking anyone other than her. Should she have expected it? No, not if he told her he wouldn’t.

I tend to view things in a realistic (if somewhat black and white) way. If Elin was at all aware of reality and how professional athletes conduct their personal lives (and she should have been), then it was her responsibility to make her views on the topic clear before they got married (ie. don’t do it or I’ll come after you with a golf club). And she should have made sure Tiger was on the same page.

But after that I think she had every right to trust him and believe he would remain faithful, because fuck everyone else and what they do; it’s not her job to worry about the egos and character issues of the other 99% of professional athletes. If her man was strong enough to keep his word – as he should have been – then that’s all that matters. I don’t care that he has hot young things throwing themselves at him 24 hours a day. How hard is it to not do something? It’s harder to sneak someone into your room, lie to your wife, lie to your fans, and pay people off than to just GO TO YOUR ROOM ALONE.

Hell, as an attractive woman living in NYC it’s not exactly hard for me to get male attention. But I manage to remain faithful when I’m in a relationship (and I’m not even married)! It’s called not doing shit when the opportunity presents itself. And trust me, even when there's serious temptation there (and sometimes it is serious) it’s still not difficult to do nothing – inactivity is surprisingly easy.

So to sum up – 1) People who cheat are fucking worthless, weak, and undeserving of even the most superficial respect. 2) Athletes are people – read the previous sentence again if you’re still confused. 3) I liked Elin’s fire when I heard she’d lost her shit on Tiger. Now everything’s quiet, and it looks like he’s paying her off. While I’m not a fan of sticking around for any reason after cheating goes down (I say get a really good lawyer and walk away with his money AND your dignity), if you are going to stay then I am a firm believer in torturing the other person along the way. In other words, I hope Elin keeps Tiger on a VERY short leash, treats him terribly in private, and gets a sick amount of money – that she couldn’t get in a divorce – for her troubles.

Oh, and on a completely unrelated (but unbelievably awesome) note, I’ve attached a link to a story about the Bad Sex Fiction Award. I didn’t even know such an award existed, but I am seriously thrilled to hear that it does! I will admit to almost losing my shit while reading this (at work – of course). Click the link and enjoy the awfulness. Happy Friday everyone!

Fa La La La La

The holidays are tiring. I am going out EVERY NIGHT next week (and the week after that is looking a little crazy too). Is it too early to already want to spend a night in my pajamas doing nothing? Yup, I’m lazy.

Quick comment about the Tiger Woods thing (because of course I’m finding this fascinating): If Tiger’s wife did actually beat him up and take a golf club to his car for cheating…well that’s just fucking AWESOME! Way to not take it lying down, Elin! I’ve gone from indifference to legitimately liking her, purely on the basis of rumors. Nice work.

‘Tis the season. I’ve got three dates lined up in the next two weeks (nicely fit in around all the holiday parties). All with different guys, and all of the guys are suitably adorable. And every single one of them asked ME out. ‘Thank God,’ says my ego. (Yes, my ego talks now.)

How many pumpkin muffins is too many to eat in one day? 4? Not…um…not that I ate 4 pumpkin muffins on Sunday while I was hung over. Obviously. That would be a terrible idea; practically the same as just sitting there eating a stick of butter. It’s just that, you know, they come in 4-packs so I couldn’t just buy one. And they were going out of season so I wasn’t going to see new ones until next fall. It… Yeah, okay, I have no excuse.

Seriously, I think they’re trying to freeze us out of my office. I am sitting at my desk wearing my scarf and jacket. My assistant is wearing a scarf and like 3 sweaters. WTF? They haven’t gotten the temperature right in this place in like 2 months!

Something to think on (I’ll tell you why later): What is one thing that you think a person should do before ‘growing up’? There are no rules on this, but I want serious answers (assuming anyone reads this site anymore). OK, go.

Stop the Morons

Not to make this blog all about my dog, but I really feel like this next story sums me up very, very well.

So my mother was at the dog park the other day with The Dog, and a woman came up to them as they were entering. Now my mother and The Dog are regulars at the park - this is mainly because The Dog has ants in her pants, and she needs at least 2 hours a day of running to keep her from destroying the house - so chances are good this woman had seen them there before. So this woman comes up to my mother and asks – I shit you not – “Do you think The Dog is embarrassed about the way she looks?”

Some background info: The Dog is a rescue. She was born with a fused vertebrae in her spine and couldn’t walk for the first few months of her life. After many surgeries and physical therapy (with horses…in a pool!), she now moves around like a champ – she hops her back legs rather than walking ‘normally,’ she has no tail, and yeah, her hips look a little different. But she’s fucking fine people! She’s happy, we love her to death, and she was absolutely our first choice when we were looking for a dog. She is hands down the most good-natured dog you’ll ever meet.

Oh, and the quickest way to piss me off is to look at her with pity in your eyes. What the fuck are you looking at ASSHOLE?!

Back to the story. So Stupid Woman has gone up to my mother and asked her if The Dog – a fucking DOG – is embarrassed by the way she looks. What kind of stupidity is that? My comment, when my mother told me the story, was, “I hope you responded by saying, ‘No, are you embarrassed by the way you look, Fatty?’”

Sadly, my mother did not say that. And when I retold the story (complete with my suggested response) to my boss – my BOSS – yesterday, she just looked at me, shook her head, and said, “You really shouldn’t be allowed out in public sometimes. You know that, right?”

In all fairness, my boss had to drag me away from a cop that I was yelling at last week (long story). Still, is it my fault I can’t stand stupid, ignorant jackasses? My motto in life: Stop the morons.

Dogs and Stuff

-So I went to visit my parents last Sunday and was chilling out on the couch – look who joined me! Best. Dewlaps. Ever.

Speaking of the awesome dog, she did something 2 weeks ago that still kills me. Where to begin… OK, so my father is a bit of a workaholic. He’s also a very successful lawyer and a great dad, but he is known for being a bit of a scary dude in his office. I don’t know, maybe it was time he was brought down a peg – let’s call it karma.

Anyway it was a Saturday (again, 2 weeks ago), and my father went to the office to pick up some files – he was having a client over to our house for a meeting and needed them. Since he normally runs errands on Saturday mornings with the dog (both are creatures of habit), he decided to bring her with him. Sounds fine, right?

Yeah, it seemed fine. My father worked for a bit in his office, gathered the files he needed, and went to find the dog. She had been wandering, and had somehow found her way to the reception area – there was a motion sensor that kept beeping every time she passed the door; she found this fascinating. Grabbing a hold of her leash, they left.

Fast forward to Monday morning. My father was in court when he got an email from his office manager. Rather, the entire office got an email which simply said: Was anyone in the office over the weekend? Tentatively, my father replied that he had. (I say this is where he went wrong – always know the whole story before confessing to anything.)

Turns out I was right. Long story short, our dog has found the other large corner office, and decided that was a great place to take a massive dump. And my father had already admitted he was there! What was he thinking?! Rule #1: Never admit to being responsible for the pile of shit in someone's office! I mean, I've never been responsible for anything like that before (thank God), but even I know that!

I feel like this is a good time to point out that we’ve had this dog for over 6 months, and she’s never had an accident in the house. Yet for some reason A’s office (A is the other senior partner in the firm by the way) just brought out the animal in her. And wow…it had been sitting there all weekend.

Awesome, right? My father was understandably embarrassed. My mother and I were (and are) so amused by this that we still can’t talk about it without losing our shit. And the dog – well, does she look remorseful?

On the plus side, my parents took A and his wife out to dinner as an apology, and A finally got to meet our new puppy (which he’s been meaning to do anyway). So all's well that ends well. (Oh, and he admits that she’s very, very cute…and very, very big.)

God I love dogs.

-Man vs. Food is on tonight – I am shockingly obsessed with this show. Oh, and I think I’ve figured out why America has an obesity problem. It was a toughie, but I’m really, really smart.

-We’re celebrating Christine’s birthday this weekend – if I survive this it will be a miracle.

-There’s a creepy guy who lives in an apartment across the way from mine. At night he stands at his window and watches me. When I look across at him (glare actually – dude, you’re freaking me out!), he waves. I really, really want this to stop. How do I do that without pissing him off too much? After all, he does know where I live. (I realize new curtains would be a good option, but my cat…she destroys them like it’s her job.) Can I somehow suggest to this guy that he needs to get a fucking TV and stop making me his evening entertainment? Nicely, of course - the last thing I need is another psycho in my life.

Alright, back to work – I’m in meeting hell this week.

Who's a Huge Loser?

It’s been a weird and difficult month. Difficult because work has been…trying (we had another reorganization – for those who are counting that’s 3 in the past year - and we had a trip to Germany thrown in there, and an executive retreat last week which was…um, strange). It was also difficult because I lost 3 people in the past month – 2 coworkers and 1 close family friend. The family friend was actually my nephews’ godmother; she was in her mid-30s, had gotten married just last year, was kind and accomplished, and she died. It hit everyone hard, struck me as profoundly unfair, and it affected me in some truly unexpected ways.

Which leads to the weird. You see, when someone so young and wonderful passes away, it really puts things in perspective. For me it gave me a feeling of ‘seize the day’, ‘no regrets’, ‘you only live once’, etc. etc. And I did something I’ve NEVER done before in my life – I asked out a complete stranger.

I blame it on Paris. Actually, I blame it on sitting down and re-reading the book, Blame it on Paris. The book is a memoir of sorts. In it the main character, Laura, finally gives in and asks out a guy that she has had a crush on for a while. She doesn’t even know his name. And as I was reading the following passage (after a couple of cocktails), I lost my mind.

(A brief set-up: Laura leaves her name, number, and a party invitation for her waiter – a guy she’s liked from afar for months – under the tab at his restaurant. She expects never to hear from him and is in complete shock when he calls. She goes to her friends – the very people who talked her into doing this – to tell them.)

At work, Valerie and Giulia stared at me as if I had just shown up in a beret. “You actually DID it? You asked out some man you didn’t even know? I’ve never known anyone to do something like that before!”

I counted to ten. “You told me French women did that kind of thing all the time. You told me you wouldn’t hesitate a second. You told me I was a wimp, you-“

“Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that in my life. We just made all that up to encourage you! We didn’t think you would actually fall for it!”

I folded my arms. “Why is it that all my friends have a vicarious taste for adventure for which I’m always the damned patsy?”

Valerie grinned at me. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

I don’t know what it was, but it stuck me while I was reading – if she can do it then why the hell can’t I? So I emailed a guy I’ve had a crush on from afar, and I asked him out. (You get no more info from me on this – just know that he was a complete stranger.) I didn’t actually think I would send the email. I did.

When I woke up the next morning all I could think was, ‘Oh no. No no no no no. I didn’t, did I?’

I did. And he had emailed me back.

Shockingly, he was very nice about my moment of insanity. And being the bravest man in the world (apparently), he agreed to meet me. It was both amazing and embarrassing. And of course, now I actually had to go on the date.

I won’t get too into it, but I was nervous. Now you guys know that I don’t get nervous over guys – men are easy for me. I don’t mean that in a conceited way, but since I generally don’t give a shit about them, I tend to come across as pretty cool. I’m fun and I have my shit together. I don’t panic, I don’t worry, and if I want to see them again, I normally do.

That is not what happened. I blame some of it on the fact that I felt pretty pathetic and stalkerish over what I had done, and some of it on the fact that I had sort of built this guy up in my mind over time. In other words, I already liked him – he had all the power before it even began.

Long story short, it was like I had taken a truth serum before we met. I was a fucking spaz, tossing out information about myself that I NEVER talk about. Hello, I’ve been writing this blog for years and never once have I mentioned that I used to be an actress. That’s because I feel stupid talking about it. He found out within the first hour of meeting me. I talked…a lot. He was actually pretty awesome.

So it should come as no surprise to anyone (least of all me) that he hasn't exactly been jumping at the opportunity to see me again. But it’s bothering me. I think it’s bothering me for a lot of reasons. Top of that list is ego, of course – you like someone and you want them to like you, and when they don’t…it sucks. There’s also confusion (with myself, not with him) – I mean, why do I care? Why am I thinking about it so much? When did I regress back to high school, a time when I hadn’t figured out guys (or myself) yet? So what that it didn’t work out – at least I gave it a shot, right?

Well, yes. But I think what’s really bothering me is that after the month that I’ve had, I feel like it should have turned out differently. I mean, why do something so completely out of character for nothing? If I’m going to grab life by the horns, shouldn’t something extraordinary happen? If I’m going to put myself out there and actually care about the outcome (for once), shouldn’t I be rewarded for that? And then I think, ‘What, are you 16 years old? Cut that shit out!’

Since when do I believe in fate? Since when do I care about a first date? Since when do I even notice if I haven’t heard from someone in a week? What the hell? Where is my dignity and can I please have it back?

OK, self-therapy session over. As you were.

Other than that – GO YANKS! (At least that part of the month was awesome.)

Thoughts?

Hey, so I know I haven't been around here in a while, and I'm assuming no one even visits anymore, but on the off chance that you have stumbled by...

Thoughts on the below stockings? I've been going through a super-duper girly stage recently, and it's made me do a lot of shopping. Admittedly, most of the stuff I've been buying hasn't been...essential. But it has been fun, and I want to look hot. So with that in mind (but also keeping in mind that I'm not a whore) - is there really any chance I'll wear these? I was thinking with a short little black dress, but...are they too much? Thoughts?

Feel…So…Good - Update

I’m freshly back from Bermuda people – tanned, relaxed, happy…I give myself until around Tuesday before I’m stressed and angry again, but for now…bliss.

Sorry I’ve been out of touch as of late. Between the vacation, an office change (and I mean an entirely new building – have you ever packed up a couple THOUSAND books in less than a week?), a midsummer cold, and a new boy to flirt with, I’ve been busy. But I’m back, temporarily in a good mood, and ready to babble. So what do you guys want to talk about?

Well until you come up with something, let me touch on a few things that have been on my mind:

-That Baskin Robbins commercial (pretty sure it’s Baskin Robbins…I think…wow, that’s good advertising if I can’t even remember what company it’s for) - you know, the one with the song. The one that goes:
Ice creamy cakey cake!
Ice creamy cakey cake!
Ice creamy cake do the ice creamy cake!
Ice creamy cake do the ice creamy cake!
Ice creamy cake do the ice creamy cake!
I can’t get this fucking song out of my head (and I sing along whenever I hear it, which is ALL THE TIME). Do you know the commercial I’m talking about? Is the song now stuck in your brain too? Yes? Good.

-Why is it so hard to properly apply sunscreen? Why are my knees burned but not my thighs or stomach? Why is the tip of my nose burned but not the rest of my face? Am I a moron? Don’t answer that.

-I love giraffes – I just think they’re the coolest.

-Finally got around to watching Generation Kill – fucking awesome. Get off your ass and Netflix it.

-Alexander Skarsgard (I’m missing some sort of accent in there - he's Swedish...mmm), the star of Generation Kill and True Blood, is my new celebrity crush. He absolutely could not be more my type if he tried. Google him, he's nummy.

-Speaking of True Blood, I have to say that I’m just not that into it. I say that while freely admitting I watch the show and enjoy certain parts, but overall…I think I’m missing something. Why does everyone love it so much? I find the majority of the characters (not Eric, obviously) really annoying. Thoughts?

-And finally, I get this email every Friday from a guy I know – he sends it out to a bunch of people – and in it he always gives us a bunch of random facts he found that week. I figured I’d share the fun today and copy/paste a few:

Percentage of Americans who say that God has spoken to them: 36%

Percentage of American men who say they would marry the same woman if they had it to do all over again: 80%;
Percentage of American women who say they would marry the same man: 50%

Percentage of men who say they are happier after their divorce or separation: 58%;
Percentage of women who say they are happier after their divorce or separation: 85%

Number of different family relationships for which Hallmark makes cards: 105

Average life span of a major league baseball: 7 pitches

Percentage of bird species that are monogamous: 90%;
Percentage of mammal species that are: 3%

OK that’s it – Happy Friday everyone!

Update: I have found the greatest blog ever. Please click here - if you don't appreciate this, we can't be friends.

I Have No Idea Why I Found This So Funny

So I’m walking through the subway station yesterday, and I see this couple walking towards me. They’re holding hands, talking – generally unnoticeable. I wouldn’t have even registered their existence if the guy hadn’t suddenly stopped walking, an expression of complete shock on his face. The chick just kept on going.

I don’t know, all of a sudden I was intrigued. What did she say? Obviously it was surprising, since he stopped dead and looked fucking stunned. But the thing was she just kept on going, like she was either a) expecting this reaction from him, or b) didn’t care. Either way…awesome.

So there I was, thinking of all the things she could have said to elicit this reaction. Wondering what she could say in a crowded (it was rush hour) train station that would be that interesting. So I started playing with all the possibilities while I made my way home.

My favorite was she’d just told him she’d slept with his brother. I don’t know why, but that one cracked me up. I mean, how genius would it be to tell him, like it’s no big deal, while holding hands and walking through the subway station? He couldn’t very well kill her there, right? Kind of a smart move to do it in public actually.

Another theory I had was that she had told him she was pregnant. You know, because who needs privacy for a discussion like that, right?

Wow, I could play this game all day. Anyway, those were my top two. Do you guys have any you want to throw out there? The floor is yours.

10 Things

1) I love the smell of the farmer’s market in Union Square. I walk through it year-round (got to get to work somehow), but in the summertime the smells just go off the charts. Whether it’s the strawberries (mmmm, strawberries) or the basil, it just makes mornings so much more enjoyable. Two enthusiastic thumbs up.

2) UFC 100 is this weekend! I’m finding a bar that’s willing to pay the $45 to get the fights, and I’m not budging until it’s over. NONE of my friends want to go with me, so it looks like I’m spending my Saturday night solo. But guess what – I don’t care! The only sad part is my brother is going to be there, in Vegas, because his job actually requires it (my fucking job now officially sucks), and apparently I don’t fit in his suitcase. Not. Fair.

3) Christine was fired again. That makes 3 jobs in the last 4 years. This is getting awkward.

4) So I’m reading GENERATION KILL by Evan Wright – I wanted to read it before I finally got around to watching it (months late) on On Demand. I’ve got to say, it’s ridiculously good. Well written, engrossing, disturbing, just…amazing really. Only now I’m a little nervous about watching the series; I’ve heard good things about it, but there’s no way it’s ever going to live up to the book. Ah well, I’m still excited.

5) Linda got married a week and a half ago – I was a bridesmaid. I wore a killer dress (yay to letting the bridesmaids choose their own dresses). The reception was wayyyyy too much fun. I’ll write more about it soon. Probably.

6) People are gross. So a few days ago it got a little warm in NYC (finally), and I hopped the subway downtown. I get in the subway car and instantly realize that the air conditioning isn’t working, but decide to suck it up rather than go on walkabout to find a better car. Big mistake. The dude sitting across from me, in denim shorts no less – no man should ever wear denim shorts…ever…for any reason – is sweating like a pig. That’s gross enough. But then, he pulls out a tissue and starts WIPING HIS HAIRY LEGS WITH IT! I guess he was trying to cool off/mop up the sweat. But either way…ewwwww. I have no words. I still feel a little nauseous when I think about it. People, when you are on the subway you are in public! We can see you! Stop with the weird crap!

7) So after a long winter of being a lazy shit I finally started working out again. My ass is grateful. The rest of me fucking hates it.

8) I’ve decided that I’m sick of meeting men in bars, and the blind dates my friends have been setting me up on lately have been…bad. Any suggestions (NOT match.com) on good ways to meet men? I refuse to date anyone I work with, and I’m running out of options here.

9) I have a new word that I’ve been using a lot lately, and I’m more than willing to admit I have no clue what it means. My new word is: jiggity.

10) And the big news – my parents got a new dog! We’re so excited to have her in the family (we got her from Boxer Rescue and she’s…SO fab), and I am completely, 100% in love. Here she is:

Ridiculously cute, right?

That’s it for now. I think I might post again in the next few days. Hey, it could happen!

I'm in 'Girl Jail'

This was an actual conversation about another (different) conversation - let's just jump right in and skip the intro:

Redhead: And then I used the c-word.
Christine: Wait…what?!
Redhead: I honestly don’t think I’ve ever used it out loud before, but it just kind of popped out.
Christine: What was the context?
Redhead: I was…you know…talking about the body part.
Christine: WAIT...WHAT?!
Redhead: It kind of fit naturally into the conversation at the time. The guy seemed surprised though.
Christine: No shit. Men are afraid of that word (for good fucking reason)! But you…you should know better!
Redhead: I know.
Christine: Bad!
Redhead: I know!
Christine: That’s it – give your girl card back!
Redhead: Stop yelling at me!

Annddddd....scene.

Turns out girls aren't allowed to use the c-word either - did anyone else know this? Can I ask a question here? What exactly is so bad about the word? I know it's a no-no and everything, but...why?

Anyway, so now I'm in 'girl trouble' - whatever that is - and I guess I'm in 'girl jail' (which I just made up). Mental shrug.

May – The Month of Lust

Seriously, that’s what Christine proclaimed after some completely ridiculous behavior (on both our parts) last month. Thank God it’s over! Note: I’m actually kind of sad it’s over; we had a lot of fun. Don’t judge me!

Anywho, sort of on the same topic but not really, have any of you people ever heard of the ‘Irish Curse’? Christine spent a really long time last weekend trying to convince me that there is such a thing. Essentially all it refers to is an entire county’s...well, there’s really no nice way to say this – dick size. Apparently Irishmen have wee little peckers. Now I’ve dated an Irish dude a time or two, and honestly…I don’t know. I wasn’t overwhelmed by their size or anything, but I wasn’t laughing at it (on the inside of course) either. Am I just terribly unobservant? Is there a nugget (tee hee) of truth there?

Thoughts? No? OK, moving on…

Ooh, before we do – and while we’re on the subject of Irish dicks – it turns out that Christine wants to spend some time with a particular one. One that you all know (but not as well as I do – oo-er). Wow, when did I get so dirty?

Anyway, I keep going off on tangents, but the big news is…Christine wants to fuck my Bartender! (You may remember him from here and here.) And you know what – I was totally fine with it. In fact, my response was pretty unequivocal:

Redhead: I bequeath him to you – go forth and prosper!

Not surprisingly I was super duper drunk when I said that. But still, the sentiment stands. I don’t want him, and he’s cute and fun, so she can (and should) have him. The only problem is I missed a golden opportunity there, and I’m bummed I didn’t take the time to properly fuck with my friend.

Now, in the sober light of day, all I can think is I should have gotten something for my troubles (and by troubles, I mean handing over my sloppy seconds to Christine). Where’s the guilt trip she should be on? Where’s my free meal/free drinks? Where’s the groveling that is expected when a friend moves in on your (sort of) ex?

I’ll tell you where – it’s at the bottom of my scotch glass. Along with my pride.

Hmmm, and on a completely unrelated note, guess what I had for breakfast this morning? Rolos! Do you guys remember those? I hadn’t seen them in years, but when I stumbled to the vending machine this morning to buy myself breakfast (I swear they sell granola bars in the vending machine, so it’s not always quite as bad as it sounds), what did I see? Rolos! Those bit size caramels covered in chocolate – do you remember them? The ones that are REALLY chewy and make you drool all over yourself. Just me?

Well I bought them, and let me tell you – they were AWESOME! I didn’t even feel stupid (well…not really) when my assistant came into my office and found me slobbering all over myself while eating one.

OK, that’s enough for today. Hey, maybe I’ll post again sometime this month! Wouldn’t that be cool?! Yeah, we’ll see.

Someone Just Sent This to Me - I Had to Share

So my friends forward me stupid shit to read all the time, but this one I really enjoyed. And because I'm so awesome, I decided to share it with you fine people. Laziest post ever? Yes, laziest post ever. (But damn I'm good.)

Hell explained by a Chemistry student

The following is an actual bonus question given on a University of Washington chemistry midterm. The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well:

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,' and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting 'Oh my God.'

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.

OK, One of These Things Isn’t Funny (I’ll Try Harder Next Time)

I was going to post something here last week, but I ended up having a life crisis instead. Ah well. Some Redhead updates:

-Italy was awesome. Fucking exhausting (sooooo many meetings), but fabulous. I ate a lot (mmmm, pizza), drank a lot (Chianti, Prosecco – you just can’t go wrong with either of those), and basically just soaked up the beauty. Is there anything better than sitting outside at 4 in the afternoon, on a cobblestone side street, watching people go in and out of the little chocolate shop on the corner, while drinking your 3rd glass of Prosecco that day? Nah, I didn’t think so.

-Random fact about me you don’t already know – I love orange soda. (Hey, I told you it was random – I don’t really go in for those 25 Things About Me lists, but every once in a while it’s nice to throw one out there.) Anyway yeah, I’m completely obsessed with the stuff. If I’m in a store/restaurant and they have orange soda, I get unreasonably excited and tend to…overindulge.

There you go.

-I am now officially obsessed with the UFC. Last week I found myself sitting home watching Spike TV (don’t ask), and some UFC tournament (is that what they call them?) came on. I was entranced. It has been a long time since something sucked me in like that. I watched the whole fucking thing (and showed up for drinks with friends, oh, 2 hours late – oops). It was totally worth it and I can’t wait to learn/watch more. Two overenthusiastic thumbs up.

-Let’s title this one Stupid Things Women Say to Avoid Being Asked Out on a Date.

So Christine was at work, and the annoying, not very (read: at all) attractive guy who’s been following her around walks into her office. First words out of his mouth were, ‘Hey, do you like art?’ Christine’s answer: No.

What?! OK, ignoring the fact that that’s a complete lie (she’s almost as much of a museum nerd as I am), who says that?!

He immediately started stuttering about a show at the MoMA he’d hoped she might like to see with him, and she cut him off with ‘Sorry, I don’t like art.’

As she was telling me this story the other night, all I could respond with was ‘THAT was the only letdown you could come up with? Not a nice little: I don’t date people I work with? But: I don’t like pretty things and culture is abhorrent to me????!’ Her reply: Hmmm, yours actually would have been better, huh?

You think?

-So who wants to hear about my week last week? Well, really only 1 interesting thing happened. (Well, sort of.) Where to start…

OK so I got off the train last Monday, and as per usual I was in my own world as I walked to my apartment (headphones on, eyes down). I was exhausted after a long day of work, and I just wanted to go home and collapse. Essentially, as I got to the door of my building, I wasn’t really paying attention.

Some guy followed me into my building. (In my defense – and I know I don’t really deserve a defense on this one – it was 6pm, the sun was still out, and a lot of people come home at that time so I didn’t think much of it when he followed me through the locked front door.)

Anyway long story short, I finally got to make my first 911 call! (Another aside – NY 911 operators are assholes. Bitch, I wasn’t yelling at you, I was yelling at the guy who had trapped me in the hallway and wouldn’t leave; I didn’t appreciate the attitude.) Not to put too fine a point on the story (because you don’t need, nor want, all the details), but the guy trapped me near the mailboxes on the first floor of my building, and he pretty much kept me there while he…um…pleasured himself.

On the plus side he didn’t try to touch me. On the negative side…it happened. And it was about as much fun as it sounds.

I don’t really know if I handled it well or not (is there a way to handle something like that well?). Much to my mother’s dismay – when I told her the story later that night – I was a little feisty (verbally) during the whole thing. Now making noise in a situation like that is considered smart. But telling the guy (who was much bigger than I) that he’s a ‘fucking freak’ while all alone in a locked building with him probably isn’t. What can I say – turns out I’m not one to go down quietly (apparently).

So that’s it – I was going to post last week but decided to have roughly 12 panic attacks instead. Still, I’m fine. Much more shaken by the situation than I thought I would be (mostly because I feel so fucking stupid for not paying more attention when I got to my building), but fine. Trust me when I say, I realize the story could have been a lot worse, and I know I’m kind of a wuss for not getting over everything quicker.

And that’s it. Shockingly I’m stepping up my new apartment search. Anyone have any funny stories to share?

I'm Never Drinking Again

At some point I'm going to learn my lesson and stop going out on St. Patty's Day. (I'm so hung over right now...ugh, the pain - some holidays should not be allowed to take place on a Tuesday.)

So, do you ever wake up the morning after going out, and as details of the night start coming back to you all you can think is, 'Oh, FUCK no!'?

Did I really say those things? Did I really do those things?

Um, and on a not unrelated note I am no longer seeing the guy I mentioned in the last post.

If This Seems All Over the Place, It’s Because I’m All Over the Place

I finally saw He’s Just Not that Into You, and I can honestly say that piece of shit movie was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever sat through (and I just watched Fool’s Gold on HBO).

Christine and I went, both really excited to see a slightly exaggerated, funny take on dating today. What we got was a cringe-inducing 2 hours that in no way reflected ANY females I know. I turned to Christine as the credits rolled and said, ‘That had to have been written by a man. I don’t know any woman who would do any of those things.’

Christine’s response was simple – ‘I can’t believe I spent $12.50 on that; what a fucking rip-off.’ No shit.

I’m leaving for Italy this weekend. I’m going for work (just like last year), but unlike last year I’m not taking a vacation after. Oh no, that would be too relaxing. Instead I’m just going to keep running myself into the ground until eventually I collapse. (Please God, let me collapse soon – I think I’ve been running on fumes for the past 2 weeks.)

People, I’m stressed. I’m stressed about being out of the office next week, I’m stressed about 4th quarter (we’re preparing for it now – good timing to go out of the country for the week, right?), I’m stressed about my personal life (I’m dating a guy that I don’t really like, but I like how much he likes me – yes, I know how pathetic that sounds), I’m stressed about leaving my cat in the care of Christine while I’m gone (oh please, please, please let her – my cat, not Christine – be alive when I get back), and most of all, I’m stressed about the main thing that’s REALLY making me stressed…

I quit smoking. Or I’m in the process of doing so – cold turkey (I get off on asserting my willpower…normally…well, not right now). And it’s making me…restless. Uncomfortably so.

Honestly, I’ve tried to quit in the past, but I never really wanted to so I put in a half-assed effort every time (which never works). Now I really want to quit – I think…fuck! – and I’m finding it…AGH!

(A note to everyone who is sitting there thinking ‘Smoking is a stupid and disgusting habit, she shouldn’t have started to begin with and she deserves the discomfort she’s experiencing now.’ Um, 1) Fuck you, and 2) No shit, Sherlock.)

Anyway, everything seems to be boiling down to one solid fact: I CAN’T RELAX! At all. I am dead serious here people, I am INCAPABLE of relaxing right now, and it’s driving me insane.

Most people who know me describe me as some variation of the following group of adjectives: loyal, occasionally distant/cold, funny, sarcastic, and LAID BACK. I don’t get worked up by a lot, and people comment on that! All the time. But now…

I used to get up in the morning, pop open a Red Bull/drink a cup of coffee, and have a cigarette. I used to get home from work and relax with a cigarette. I used to have a cigarette while I was reading, or watching TV. You know…relaxing stuff. Only now every time I want to relax, I can’t have a cigarette…which means I can’t relax. I can’t watch TV. I can’t read. Every time I sit down I want a cigarette, so I haven’t been sitting down when I’m at home (I never smoked during the day at work, so that’s not really a problem). Instead I pace, and stare at the clock, watching the seconds tick by, until I finally have to leave and go for a walk.

I’m a nervous breakdown waiting to happen.

I’ve also been cleaning my apartment obsessively because (stop me if you’ve heard this already) I CAN’T SIT DOWN inside of it. You know what’s also hard to do when you can’t stop pacing while at home – that’s right, eating. Most people gain weight when they quit smoking, but not me…I’m too fucking high strung to eat right now. I also can’t stop jiggling my foot.

Yup, I was a ‘relaxing smoker’ it seems – I smoked to unwind, to relax, to KEEP MYSELF STILL. Now that I can’t, I CAN’T SLOW DOWN. And I’m stressing myself out with no end in sight.

So yeah, that’s what’s going on with me. What’s up with you? Anyone still here?

Not Tonight Alex - I Have a Headache

If I make it through this week it will be a miracle. I have 3 (fucking 3!) business dinners, meetings all day every day, a backlog of contracts that really need to be addressed at some point (yeah, I’ll get right on that Boss), and a guy who’s ALREADY driving me nuts (serves me right for thinking I could trust my judgment after 4 hours of drinking – stop texting me dude!). So what am I doing right now? Catching up on all my work/composing a text that will make Stalker Guy go away for good? Nah, I’m passing judgment on…

A-Rod.

You all knew it was coming. It seems my dirty little secret had a dirty little secret. As if I wasn’t embarrassed enough by my crush, he then had to go and make himself look like more of a jackass. Thanks sweetie.

I should probably clarify something here – I’m not embarrassed and horrified that Alex did steroids. Ignoring my slightly unusual obsession with A-Rod (shut up), I really do have my shit together regarding most things; I like to say I live in a little place called ‘reality.’ So after getting over my first reaction to the news, which was something along the lines of ‘Jesus Christ, ANOTHER one? Fucking Yankees!’ I quickly settled into my second reaction, which was ‘eh.’

Let me ask the baseball fans who visit this site something – were you surprised that A-Rod used steroids? Because I sure wasn’t. This is a dude who a) was playing during what we now refer to as the Steroid Era, and b) is known for being an insecure people-pleaser (and an inept one at that). Was there any chance he WASN’T using? Ah A-Rod, my little spastic mess.

Anyway now that a week has passed since the news broke, I can honestly say he’s handling himself…um, yeah, he’s handling himself poorly. Sorry, but it's true. The press conference on Tuesday was painful to watch. But overall my main concern is whether (or rather how much) this will affect him throughout the season. Much as I’d like to have the guy in my bed, I can honestly say I have no interest in dealing with his neuroses. So Alex, please for the love of God GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER! I need you to not fuck up this year – 2008 was painful enough for me; I like seeing my team actually win every once in a while, and you are a distraction we do not need. So step away from the microphone and get back on the field; I know you and your teammates have better ways to spend a Tuesday afternoon. Oh, and hire a new PR team – your current one sucks.

Now to take my lovely Alex’s place in my heart, I give you Frank Lampard. Ladies, he’s newly single, plays soccer (so great legs are guaranteed - seriously, look down), and is filthy rich – who wants to move to London with me?

2 Years - Time Sure Does Fly By When You're Not Posting!

(Note: I was going to post this on Saturday, but then I forgot – kind of a theme around here actually.)

So I’m not going to apologize, I’m not going to offer up lengthy explanations, and I’m not going to feel guilty – I’ve been taking a break from the blog, people! However, I had to come back to celebrate the 2 year anniversary of said blog (even though, yes, my upkeep for the last 6 months has been shitty at best - and I missed the anniversary...oops). Still, if there’s anyone who still comes here…some thoughts:

Hmmm, when was the last time we spoke? Fuck, a lot has happened since then. I’ve dated and broken up with at least 2 guys – one I dated specifically because he had a really cute dog…hey, there are worse reasons to date a guy. I’m writing a book which is taking up a lot of my writing/blogging time. I’m looking to buy an apartment which is taking up a lot of my sanity (godDAMN that’s a lot of money to just fork over all at once!). Work is nuts, but at least I’m still being paid to do it (which is more than a lot of my friends can say right now). And I took some time out to discover the meaning of life (but I’m not telling you what it is – that would be cheating).

Other than that, what else has been up? Oh, I finally got around to meeting one of you nutjobs – something I swore I’d never do – so, mcbias, take a bow. Hmmm…what else…?

(Another note: Please keep in mind that I was going to post this on Saturday, so just pretend that it’s Valentine’s Day while reading – it was kind of the theme of the post and I don’t feel like rewriting everything.)

-Actually, since I didn’t post on Saturday I will give you a quick rundown of my V-Day:
Tried to go see He’s Just Not That Into You with Christine (we figured let’s just embrace our singleness), but when we got to the theater it was sold out! I hate being unoriginal.
Since we couldn’t see our movie of choice, we hit up the pub near my apartment at the ripe old hour of 7:30pm instead.
We left the pub around 2am.
Yes, I was hung over the next day.
Surprisingly I met a guy at Saturday night – something I would have bet money against doing on V-Day.
Said guy then called on Sunday (I have no memory of giving him my number), and we’re going out this week. I’ll let you know if it’s true love, otherwise you’ll probably never hear me mention him again.

-In the immortal words of my Wild Words from Wild Women daily calendar:
If you open your heart up and let all the love you have flow out of you, I promise that some highly dysfunctional, emotionally unavailable man will glom himself onto you and never let go.
-Wendy Kamenoff

Awesome.

-For all the ladies out there, a little relationship advice this fine Valentine’s Day. (Obviously not from me – I don’t know the first thing about relationships.) Anyway, here you go.

-My breakfast this morning consisted of black coffee, one of those Starbucks Double Shot espresso drinks, and a Red Bull. Help, I think I may have a problem.

-Creepy Web site I wish I’d never discovered (I need to stop giving into peer pressure): Facebook. Yes, Facebook creeps me out. I was pressured into joining, refuse to ‘friend’ anyone myself, and only go on to accept friend requests every two weeks or so. Still, what is with all the randoms out there that find you?! I kind of want to say to people ‘Um, I think we lost touch for a reason.’ But that would be mean, right?

-Worst Valentine’s Day: The time my boyfriend told me he’d rather hang out with his friends than spend the evening with me. Yup, I can really pick ‘em!

-Nice little bit of erotica to get you through a cold V-Day all alone: Cooking Up a Storm by Emma Holly. No one in this book even has a fleeting grasp of what monogamy means. It’s amazing how something that would piss me off in reality still turns me on in…bookity. (OK, so that word doesn’t exist, but I didn’t want to say ‘fantasy’ or ‘theory’ since those words weren’t quite right – sue me.)

-In honor of Valentine’s Day, I want to know what everyone’s most embarrassing sexual moment was. For me it was the time I was…um…let’s just say ‘pleasuring’ a boyfriend, and he fell asleep. Nothing fucks with your ego quite like that. So thanks Ex-Boyfriend! And no, I STILL don’t buy that it was because you’d had too much to drink, JACKASS!

Anyway, anyone have any good stories that could compete?