Dating is tricky. First dates are the worst. Typically I like to mentally prepare myself for a date with a glass of wine or 2 and listen to Taylor Swift in my bathroom while I get ready. I think this is my first mistake.
Last night I went on a blind date. With a 30 year old. It being my first "blind" date... I was even more nervous than usual. Originally the plan was for us to meet for drinks and that was it. I was ok with that plan. It was going to be short and easy. I got off work and went straight to Mockingbird station to get a new top. Well.. as i was leaving, the guy calls me and says he has tickets for the Mavs game and asked if I wanted to do that instead. I was torn: I really actually love basketball.. but I didnt know if i wanted to commit to spending and ENTIRE NIGHT with this guy who I'd never met. But I said it was fine... and then headed to the liquor store for my wine and went home to get ready.
Flash forward about 1 hour. Miley Cyrus blasting, one glass of wine down. At this point I had a decision to make.. and it was this decision that would end up being my demise. Should I eat dinner? Or should I wait and see if he wants to eat there? I mean.. TYPICALLY I always eat before. I'm weirdly uncomfortable about eating in front of new guys. I always think they'll think I'm fat or something. And in this specific example, the blind date, we'll call him Tony, actually runs a gym/boot camp that he started himself. So he's super in shape. Anyway, I opted to not eat. And here I am. Hating my life and wanting to die. Literally.
Ok so... the guy picks me up in a LIFTED truck with his boot camp logo all over. It's like a monster truck and I could barely get in. He also has a car... seems like an easy choice here, but I digress... He did open up the door for me though (+1). His hair was gelled and he was wearing a new jacket that he was very excited about. It was kind of like a military style jacket with pockets and shit all over it... I dont know. Very dallas metro. (-1). So we park the car and it starts raining and is freezing. Just great. We walk up to the American Airlines Center but we dont have the tickets, his friend Jeremy does and he was picking up his date who was running late... so we walk across the street for drinks. We each had 2 and a shot. Things begin to get blurry.
Jeremy shows up. His sexuality is still debateable in my mind. Justin says he is straight. I have my doubts. His date is nice but seems a little slutty. Whatever. I'm pretty sure this is one of those pot/kettle situations so I'll say no more about her. We go into the game and get more drinks. Then we go watch the game for like... maybe 30 mins. We were winning I believe. We both talk about how hungry we are.. but do not get food. So I opt for another drink instead. Then we find someone's blackberry and I naturally pick it up and call the last number. This whole time I'm texting my roommate being like... oh dear God this guy is kind of a tool... I want to leave. After the game we go back to my house because I wanted to go HOME but I think there was some confusion and I ended up just changing and we both went back out to the restaurant. We arranged with Blackberry guy to meet there and return his phone.
The rest of the night is a big black blur. I remember eating pizza. With ranch. It was so good and soooo probably not on boot camp diet but what can you really do? I woke up next to him this morning at 6am when his alarm went off. He turned it off, blew off his morning boot camp and went back to bed. Then we woke up later and just laid there for an uncomfortably long time just talking and rehashing the night... I asked about 10 questions to which he was like, seriously? You don't remember. We talked about this last night... you didn't seem that drunk.
How can this guy not call me?? He's actually probably in love, let's be honest. I'm sooooooooo getting married next. There are so many life lessons to take from this dating disaster I don't know where to begin. But I will include bullet points.
1) Always skip dinner and drink A LOT
2) Always make your date take you HOME mid-date and then change clothes, only to go back out again
3) Always kiss on a first date
4) More importantly, always shack on a first date.
I RULE AT LIFE.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Monday, December 28, 2009
I think I'm being Punished
As I sit here on Dec. 28th, 2009, I can't help but reflect on the past year. Not to be dramatic (because I never am), but I think it's safe to say that the past 2 years have been the worst of my life. Yes, I know I'm healthy, and have a job, and friends, and a great family (all things I am very, very thankful for) But so many unfortunate things happen to me on a weekly basis.... I dont even know where to begin. .
I guess I should start by explaining that my life wasn't always like this. In High School everything was great. I mean, we moved a TON so I was always the "new girl", but, since I like being the center of attention, that wasn't really a problem. College was pretty good up until the last semester. And by pretty good i mean AWESOME. Like, legit the best time of my life to date.
It all started when I moved to Dallas, really. So I'm gonna go ahead and blame the city. I don't care if that's stupid. I moved out here with a friend who we'll call Sally, right after graduation. I had never really been here but I was sick of San Antonio and ready for a change, so we loaded up the U-Haul and headed North on 35. Well... it was a rough start. It took me a while to find a job, so for the first month or so you could find me sitting on my couch drinking diet coke and watching Scrubs reruns for the majority of the day. Finally I found one.. it was GOD-AWFUL. My boss made me run all of his personal errands, CUT his meat, and go buy ice at the gas station. And when he demanded that I crush the ice myself before bringing him a cup of it... that was when I quit. I wasn't paid enough for that shit.
Then suddenly my roommate, Sally, stopped coming home and/or answering my calls. She had apparently decided that I was a "bad person" and that she no longer wanted to be friends. Rather than confront me about whatever upset her, she stopped coming home and now she lives with her boyfriend. Good riddance.
Then came the time period that I like to refer to as "The Worst Week of My Life". Again, it sounds dramatic, but you have to hear this story to believe it.
It was, I believe, the week of April 23rd, 2009. I had just been to visit my friend in Memphis and had a GREAT weekend. We went to the lake, went out on Beale Street and generally just had a good ole drunken time.
Incident 1: The Ticket - While cruising down I-30 jamming out to what I can only imagine was Daughtry (because i LOVE Daughtry)... i was going a mere 77 mph when I saw flashing lights out of my rearview. Obviously I couldn't hear sirens at this point because my music was blaring, but I assumed he was going affter the dude in front of me, because after all, I was only going 77 and the speek limit was 70. It was even on cruise! Also.. correct me if I'm wrong, but someone once told me that it was legally acceptable to go 10% over the speed limit... as in, if it's 70, you can go 77 but not 78, or if it's 80, you can go 88 but not 89... and so on. Hence why my cruise control was set to 77. Well.. apparently that is not the case because the cop was in fact after me. So.. I pull over, and our conversation went something like this
Cop: Ma'am, do you know how fast you were going?
Me: about 75. Was I speeding? I thought the speed limit was 70.
Cop: Nope. The speed limit is 65 at night. Here you go. (hands me a $150 ticket) Me: (eyes blink in bewilderment)
WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Who knew that the "night" speed limits were in fact LEGAL speed limits and not just "suggested speeds". Not this girl. And thus... my week from HELL had just begun.
Incident 2: The Bird - So... after receiving the ticket, I returned home to Dallas ready to shake it off and move on. I had a date with this guy that i was SUPER interested in that week.. and then my new roommate who i LOVE was moving in on Friday. I was excited about life, to say the least. So.. wake up, go to work... the ush. Work goes by slowly... as usual. Then I head home and get ready to go hang out in west village with the aforementioned dude i was kind of dating at the time. Well... as I turn the key and enter my kitchen, guess what is lying on the ground for me? A little greeting as if to say, "welcome home, my lovely lady".
A DEAD BIRD.
A fucking dead bird. Just chillaxing on my kitchen floor. Not only that... this wasn't just any dead bird, as I came to find out. The bird was literally decapitated and its tiny, beaked head was laying next to it. "She must have a cat" you're probably thinking. Nope. I hate cats. "Surely you live in a house and the door was open". Negatory. I live on the THIRD (middle) floor of an apartment complex, and we have indoor halls. There is no viable explanation for the predicament I was in.
I dont know if any of you have found a dead bird in your apartment, but let me just say. It is semi-traumatizing. i had NO damn clue how/why it was there. Was some terrorist trying to scare and threaten me? Who knows.
Incident 3: The Balding - As if a speeding ticket and a dead bird weren't enough., God decided to throw another curveball or two my way. Is this bad Karma? I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve this, but it must have been bad. I mean, I could end this story right now and you would still probably be like... "man, sucks to be her". But alas, my story is only halfway done. On Tuesday morning, I wake up and begin my usual routine. Work out, shower, makeup, hair, work. But something this morning did not go as usual.
I'll preface this by explaining that back in February, in attempt to save a few dollars, I took a chance and went to Regis for a "trim and lowlights". Well, apparently Paulo didn't speak english as well as he tried to seem like, because I went in with LONG, blonde hair, and came out with a short, brown bob. This wouldn't have been a big deal because I change my hair color about as often as I change underwear, and I've had short brown hair before... but I was headed to chicago later that week to visit my kind-of boyfriend at the time for Valentine's day, so this hair wasn't going to fly. After crying to the manager of the salon, she gave me highlights which looked great. And then I followed a friend's advice and got clip in hair extensions, which I now wore every day.
So... At this point I'd been wearing these extensions on the daily for about 3-4 months. After my shower, I begin to dry my hair and then go to put in my hair extensions for work, as I did every day. Only.... I couldn't seem to find any hair to attach it to. A moment of sheer panic overtook me as I grabbed a nearby hand-mirror and took a look at the back of my head. The extensions had left a BALD SPOT on both sides of the back of my head the size of a LEMON. I cried for days and days. Thank God the hair is growing back (it's about 3 inches now and curly, which is weird). After a lot of research I found that metal clip-in extensions can actually cause a condition called "tension alopecia" where the tension from the clips actually leaves you permanently bald.
Incident 4: The Date - Ok, so we've covered Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. One would THINK that I'd be done with my stint of bad luck since after all, they say bad things happen in 3s. Well, apparently in my case, they happen in even numbers, and in this particular example, they happen in 4s. So... Wednesday comes. I had been excited about this date all week because I really liked the guy and we had been on about 3 dates before. So.. I go home, risk the baldness and put in my extensions as usual. This guy thought I had long hair, I didn't want to let him down. So.. we go to dinner, have some drinks (and by some i mean several). We split a bottle of wine and also had vodka tonics while we waited. THEN we go on to another bar and grab a few more drinks. THEN we go to meet up with a bunch of people because my friend's band was playing and we were going to watch it. Shots were taken, more drinks were consumed.
Needless to say, we/i was HAMMERED at this point. No worries that it's a fucking WEDNESDAY night and I have to be at work at 8:30 the next day. So...... this is where I black out. But from the bits and pieces I have gathered from the other witnesses... we were making out in the back corner of the bar at one point. Then we apparently decided it was time to leave. He offers to give me a piggy-back ride on our 2-3 block walk home. God knows I'm not one to turn down a piggy-bag ride, so I oblige. The next thing I know I'm on the floor, with a severely busted chin, needing stitches. I hate needles, so I didn't get stitches. The dude ends up calling my roommate to come help and fortunately one of my friends is an aspiring doctor and had the supplies necessary to butterfly up my face.
WHO DOES THIS EVER HAPPEN TO!?!?!?! ON A FUCKING DATE?!?! I'm a mess. Shockingly this wasn't our last date. We actually ended up dating for about another month or so.
I woke up the next morning and didn't remember a damn thing. I went to work with a still bleeding chin and bandages taped to them. (because God knows I don't waste a sick day on being ACTUALLY sick) To this day I have a terrible scar and will probably for the rest of my life. It's ok though. I like to think of it as a reminder to stop being so drunk and ridiculous.
ANNNNNNNNNNNNNYWAY. So there it is. The Worst Week of My Life. So far this week, I have somehow managed to rack up about $160 in fees from using the wrong debit account to pay a CC bill, and my car battery has died twice. It's Monday. Stay tuned.
Hopefully reflecting on these moments/weeks of absolute stupidity has made you all a little more appreciative of your own lives. And may you all learn from my unfortunate mistakes. 2010 is going to be a kick-ass year. I have a good feeling. Things will improve.
I guess I should start by explaining that my life wasn't always like this. In High School everything was great. I mean, we moved a TON so I was always the "new girl", but, since I like being the center of attention, that wasn't really a problem. College was pretty good up until the last semester. And by pretty good i mean AWESOME. Like, legit the best time of my life to date.
It all started when I moved to Dallas, really. So I'm gonna go ahead and blame the city. I don't care if that's stupid. I moved out here with a friend who we'll call Sally, right after graduation. I had never really been here but I was sick of San Antonio and ready for a change, so we loaded up the U-Haul and headed North on 35. Well... it was a rough start. It took me a while to find a job, so for the first month or so you could find me sitting on my couch drinking diet coke and watching Scrubs reruns for the majority of the day. Finally I found one.. it was GOD-AWFUL. My boss made me run all of his personal errands, CUT his meat, and go buy ice at the gas station. And when he demanded that I crush the ice myself before bringing him a cup of it... that was when I quit. I wasn't paid enough for that shit.
Then suddenly my roommate, Sally, stopped coming home and/or answering my calls. She had apparently decided that I was a "bad person" and that she no longer wanted to be friends. Rather than confront me about whatever upset her, she stopped coming home and now she lives with her boyfriend. Good riddance.
Then came the time period that I like to refer to as "The Worst Week of My Life". Again, it sounds dramatic, but you have to hear this story to believe it.
It was, I believe, the week of April 23rd, 2009. I had just been to visit my friend in Memphis and had a GREAT weekend. We went to the lake, went out on Beale Street and generally just had a good ole drunken time.
Incident 1: The Ticket - While cruising down I-30 jamming out to what I can only imagine was Daughtry (because i LOVE Daughtry)... i was going a mere 77 mph when I saw flashing lights out of my rearview. Obviously I couldn't hear sirens at this point because my music was blaring, but I assumed he was going affter the dude in front of me, because after all, I was only going 77 and the speek limit was 70. It was even on cruise! Also.. correct me if I'm wrong, but someone once told me that it was legally acceptable to go 10% over the speed limit... as in, if it's 70, you can go 77 but not 78, or if it's 80, you can go 88 but not 89... and so on. Hence why my cruise control was set to 77. Well.. apparently that is not the case because the cop was in fact after me. So.. I pull over, and our conversation went something like this
Cop: Ma'am, do you know how fast you were going?
Me: about 75. Was I speeding? I thought the speed limit was 70.
Cop: Nope. The speed limit is 65 at night. Here you go. (hands me a $150 ticket) Me: (eyes blink in bewilderment)
WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Who knew that the "night" speed limits were in fact LEGAL speed limits and not just "suggested speeds". Not this girl. And thus... my week from HELL had just begun.
Incident 2: The Bird - So... after receiving the ticket, I returned home to Dallas ready to shake it off and move on. I had a date with this guy that i was SUPER interested in that week.. and then my new roommate who i LOVE was moving in on Friday. I was excited about life, to say the least. So.. wake up, go to work... the ush. Work goes by slowly... as usual. Then I head home and get ready to go hang out in west village with the aforementioned dude i was kind of dating at the time. Well... as I turn the key and enter my kitchen, guess what is lying on the ground for me? A little greeting as if to say, "welcome home, my lovely lady".
A DEAD BIRD.
A fucking dead bird. Just chillaxing on my kitchen floor. Not only that... this wasn't just any dead bird, as I came to find out. The bird was literally decapitated and its tiny, beaked head was laying next to it. "She must have a cat" you're probably thinking. Nope. I hate cats. "Surely you live in a house and the door was open". Negatory. I live on the THIRD (middle) floor of an apartment complex, and we have indoor halls. There is no viable explanation for the predicament I was in.
I dont know if any of you have found a dead bird in your apartment, but let me just say. It is semi-traumatizing. i had NO damn clue how/why it was there. Was some terrorist trying to scare and threaten me? Who knows.
Incident 3: The Balding - As if a speeding ticket and a dead bird weren't enough., God decided to throw another curveball or two my way. Is this bad Karma? I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve this, but it must have been bad. I mean, I could end this story right now and you would still probably be like... "man, sucks to be her". But alas, my story is only halfway done. On Tuesday morning, I wake up and begin my usual routine. Work out, shower, makeup, hair, work. But something this morning did not go as usual.
I'll preface this by explaining that back in February, in attempt to save a few dollars, I took a chance and went to Regis for a "trim and lowlights". Well, apparently Paulo didn't speak english as well as he tried to seem like, because I went in with LONG, blonde hair, and came out with a short, brown bob. This wouldn't have been a big deal because I change my hair color about as often as I change underwear, and I've had short brown hair before... but I was headed to chicago later that week to visit my kind-of boyfriend at the time for Valentine's day, so this hair wasn't going to fly. After crying to the manager of the salon, she gave me highlights which looked great. And then I followed a friend's advice and got clip in hair extensions, which I now wore every day.
So... At this point I'd been wearing these extensions on the daily for about 3-4 months. After my shower, I begin to dry my hair and then go to put in my hair extensions for work, as I did every day. Only.... I couldn't seem to find any hair to attach it to. A moment of sheer panic overtook me as I grabbed a nearby hand-mirror and took a look at the back of my head. The extensions had left a BALD SPOT on both sides of the back of my head the size of a LEMON. I cried for days and days. Thank God the hair is growing back (it's about 3 inches now and curly, which is weird). After a lot of research I found that metal clip-in extensions can actually cause a condition called "tension alopecia" where the tension from the clips actually leaves you permanently bald.
Incident 4: The Date - Ok, so we've covered Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. One would THINK that I'd be done with my stint of bad luck since after all, they say bad things happen in 3s. Well, apparently in my case, they happen in even numbers, and in this particular example, they happen in 4s. So... Wednesday comes. I had been excited about this date all week because I really liked the guy and we had been on about 3 dates before. So.. I go home, risk the baldness and put in my extensions as usual. This guy thought I had long hair, I didn't want to let him down. So.. we go to dinner, have some drinks (and by some i mean several). We split a bottle of wine and also had vodka tonics while we waited. THEN we go on to another bar and grab a few more drinks. THEN we go to meet up with a bunch of people because my friend's band was playing and we were going to watch it. Shots were taken, more drinks were consumed.
Needless to say, we/i was HAMMERED at this point. No worries that it's a fucking WEDNESDAY night and I have to be at work at 8:30 the next day. So...... this is where I black out. But from the bits and pieces I have gathered from the other witnesses... we were making out in the back corner of the bar at one point. Then we apparently decided it was time to leave. He offers to give me a piggy-back ride on our 2-3 block walk home. God knows I'm not one to turn down a piggy-bag ride, so I oblige. The next thing I know I'm on the floor, with a severely busted chin, needing stitches. I hate needles, so I didn't get stitches. The dude ends up calling my roommate to come help and fortunately one of my friends is an aspiring doctor and had the supplies necessary to butterfly up my face.
WHO DOES THIS EVER HAPPEN TO!?!?!?! ON A FUCKING DATE?!?! I'm a mess. Shockingly this wasn't our last date. We actually ended up dating for about another month or so.
I woke up the next morning and didn't remember a damn thing. I went to work with a still bleeding chin and bandages taped to them. (because God knows I don't waste a sick day on being ACTUALLY sick) To this day I have a terrible scar and will probably for the rest of my life. It's ok though. I like to think of it as a reminder to stop being so drunk and ridiculous.
ANNNNNNNNNNNNNYWAY. So there it is. The Worst Week of My Life. So far this week, I have somehow managed to rack up about $160 in fees from using the wrong debit account to pay a CC bill, and my car battery has died twice. It's Monday. Stay tuned.
Hopefully reflecting on these moments/weeks of absolute stupidity has made you all a little more appreciative of your own lives. And may you all learn from my unfortunate mistakes. 2010 is going to be a kick-ass year. I have a good feeling. Things will improve.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Things That Irk Me: Part 3
Let's take a moment to talk again about my favorite topic... Facebook. No, Facebook is not the thing that irks me. (See Life Lesson #1: Social Networking)But it does have to do with Facebook. As I mentioned earlier, I believe the Newsfeed was a pivotal point in Facebook's existence (Well played, Zuckeberg, well played..). Benefits of the Newsfeed include but are not limited to 1) the ability to see what events people are attending/attended, 2) seeing new photo albums as soon as people post them 3) seeing what people are writing on each other's walls and 4) reading and updating statuses.This post aims to talk about the 4th thing I just mentioned: statuses. Sure, every now and then it's nice to see that so-and-so had an awesome weekend in Chicago! Or Johnny Applesee (from Anytown USA haha) is pumped about heading to the beach! But it is a far different thing to know every detail about someone via this public forum. To further explain my annoyance with this, it is necessary to break it down into categories. They are as follows:
1) The Overly Detailed status: You know what I'm talking about.. these are the statuses that state every detail of a person's life, from what they have for dinner, to what the doctor said about that suspicious rash on their left thigh. I mean.. you would not BELIEVE some of the statuses that come up on my newsfeed. Literally, one guy I know broke his leg or something and would give, I SHIT YOU NOT, hourly updates about the wound, or what the doc said, to the bandaging, etc. For example: "John Doe... just got 17 stitches in the shin... now it's oozing" (i may have exaggerated slightly but it's to illustrate a point, you get the idea).
"_____ just had chicken parm with a side of asparagus for dinner... hope my pee doesn't smell funny tomorrow!" - - - WHOA. You just gave the entire Facebook world an image they DON'T want while simultaneously providing everyone with too much information. No one cares what you ate for dinner and no one wants to imagine the smell of your pee.
2) The Too-Frequent Update - People that feel the need to update their statuses every 25 minutes, especially DURING something, also irk me. For example,
"___ is having the time of her life playing flip cup with her besties in Tuscaloosa".
Hey, ____! How about freaking ENJOY the game while you play it and drink your damn beer? Quit stopping in the middle to "update your status". It's annoying to the people around you, as well as your facebook friends who have to read about it.
Hey, ____! How about freaking ENJOY the game while you play it and drink your damn beer? Quit stopping in the middle to "update your status". It's annoying to the people around you, as well as your facebook friends who have to read about it.
Or, "____ is sitting on the porch, sipping margs with some buddies". That is not interesting, please quit cluttering up my precious newsfeed space by telling me what you're currently drinking on the porch. I'd like to see a variety of names on my newsfeed screen, not yours over and over, and over. Thanks. If you REALLY need everyone to know what you did all day, at least wait until the end of the day and then select the most interesting highlights, and post that. Am I right, or am I right?
3) The Self-Promoting Update: You all know what I'm talking about with this one. "So-and-so just graduated from UCLA Magna Cum Laude and is super excited!!". I mean, yes. This is an AWESOME accomplishment, I agree. It's more than I'll ever be able to say ever. But like.. have you ever heard the term bragging? There is a fine line between wanting to share happy information with people, and announcing that information to the entire facebook community. It makes you sound full of yourself not to mention, like you are fishing for "likes" and comments. You have to at least be clever about the way you present statuses like these. OR.. if it's that crucial.. sneak onto a friends account and write something on your own wall, like, "Hey Lisa! Congrats on graduating with honors! You are SO smart!!" No one will be the wiser.
4) The "I'm So In Love and I Want Everyone To Know It" Update: Ok.. now here is the main annoyance of mine when it comes to the Facebook newsfeed. I like to save the best for last. Call me bitter because I'm single, whatever. Just don't act like this doesn't annoy you too. When people post statuses about how in loooooooooooove they are and how AWESOME their boyfriend/girlfriend are every 24 seconds it just kills me.. Yes. I am happy you are in love. Maybe an update once a month would be ok.. but I swear to you, i have friends that update like 4 to 5 times a DAY. A day. about how amaaaaaaaaazing their significant other is.
"Benjamin has the best girlfriend in the world and is so in love with her!!"
"Lizzie just got the best surprise ever from her amazing boyfriend! Champagne and rose petals... I love you Joe!"
Combine these statuses with a self-taken portrait of the two of them kissing on a pier, it is almost enough to make me defriend them. You know I at least hide that shit. Anyway, enough of me bitching about this. Let's just say that along with the creation of the newsfeed, I am SO thankful for the creation of the "hide" feature.
Friday, October 30, 2009
HAPPY HALLOWEEN
Well folks. Its been a while since I last posted. Apparently all of us have been too busy to update this blog. If you want to know the truth, frankly I've been reading a lot of this other blog http://www.2birds1blog.com/ and to be honest, it has really made me feel like shit about my own personal blogging skills so I haven't felt up to it. But here I am, back to post anyway. Sometimes you just can't let the man get you down.
As I sit in my office on this Halloween Eve, 2009, I can't help but ponder the road that got me to where I am today. Four years at a private university in Texas and I'm sitting here in a cubicle, doing work that I swear to you I could have done after passing my 3rd grade computer class with Mrs. Mack. My day to day responsibilities are so mundane and mindless that I am honestly forced to question my life path every 30 minutes. To help pass the time and keep my mind off such deep and depressing thoughts, I typically read blogs and gchat with you people to pass the time. Anyway. There is no real purpose to this post. I just felt the need to write something and express my recent thoughts. You can stop reading. I don't blame you.
So, let's talk about Halloween. It's tomorrow. In true fashion, my friends and I will probably dress in something slutty and go out and get hammered. The ush. I wonder when Halloween became the one day a year when girls could dress as slutty as they want without fear of being judged by anyone? Probably sometime in the 80s. I don't think this is what they had in mind when this holiday was created... I'm pretty sure it was intended for kids to walk around and get candy from strangers... which, if you think about it, is also pretty weird. Didn't they teach us NOT to take candy from strangers? We definitely had several classes when Mr. McGruff the Crime Dog puppet would come to class and sit with us all and tell us specifically NOT to do that (probably between the lesson on stop-drop and roll and how to not take rides from strangers unless they knew the special "password".. what a smart dog). But apparently Halloween is one holiday where all rules are thrown out the window. In light of the Halloween festivities, my office is holding a company-wide contest for each department. The theme of my department this year is the Wizard of Oz. I of course, did not dress up. Maybe if I'd known that SWEATPANTS were a viable option (Ian...) things would be different. I could probably write an entire blog post about my love for sweatpants. I legitimately feel like my life would be way happier if it was socially acceptable to wear sweatpants as everyday clothes. But I digress. I can't tell you how hard to concentrate it is when your boss is dressed like the following picture and there is candy at every cubicle corner. WHY would I be doing work right now?
As I sit in my office on this Halloween Eve, 2009, I can't help but ponder the road that got me to where I am today. Four years at a private university in Texas and I'm sitting here in a cubicle, doing work that I swear to you I could have done after passing my 3rd grade computer class with Mrs. Mack. My day to day responsibilities are so mundane and mindless that I am honestly forced to question my life path every 30 minutes. To help pass the time and keep my mind off such deep and depressing thoughts, I typically read blogs and gchat with you people to pass the time. Anyway. There is no real purpose to this post. I just felt the need to write something and express my recent thoughts. You can stop reading. I don't blame you.
So, let's talk about Halloween. It's tomorrow. In true fashion, my friends and I will probably dress in something slutty and go out and get hammered. The ush. I wonder when Halloween became the one day a year when girls could dress as slutty as they want without fear of being judged by anyone? Probably sometime in the 80s. I don't think this is what they had in mind when this holiday was created... I'm pretty sure it was intended for kids to walk around and get candy from strangers... which, if you think about it, is also pretty weird. Didn't they teach us NOT to take candy from strangers? We definitely had several classes when Mr. McGruff the Crime Dog puppet would come to class and sit with us all and tell us specifically NOT to do that (probably between the lesson on stop-drop and roll and how to not take rides from strangers unless they knew the special "password".. what a smart dog). But apparently Halloween is one holiday where all rules are thrown out the window. In light of the Halloween festivities, my office is holding a company-wide contest for each department. The theme of my department this year is the Wizard of Oz. I of course, did not dress up. Maybe if I'd known that SWEATPANTS were a viable option (Ian...) things would be different. I could probably write an entire blog post about my love for sweatpants. I legitimately feel like my life would be way happier if it was socially acceptable to wear sweatpants as everyday clothes. But I digress. I can't tell you how hard to concentrate it is when your boss is dressed like the following picture and there is candy at every cubicle corner. WHY would I be doing work right now?
If I had more friends at my office, I would probably be walking around snacking on various people's candy and judging each departments decorations. But because I'm pretty much an antisocial hermit at work, I am opting to sit alone at my desk and blog. I AM SUCH A LOSER. At least I'm eating candy while I do it.
So. The people at my office are getting pretty into this whole Halloween thing. Hell, even muffin top decided to dress up. You'd think AT LEAST her halloween costume would somehow mask the horrendous muffintop.. but alas... she opted for black pants 2 sizes too small and a lycra black slightly see through top. The fashion choices some people make.
Anywho. I'm off to drink at lunch with my sole work friend. I'm the best employee ever. Have a great halloween everyone! Be safe.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Things that Irk Me Part Deux
Ok so you knew I'd be back to post yet again about things that annoy me. There are so many things that irk me that for me to list them would take at least a day. I think about these things all the time and I am probably going to start keeping a list in my iPhone notes (iNotes?) Anyway, enough of that. Today's post has a topic, and that topic is........... drumroll............. Muffin Tops.When you hear the word "muffin top", your mind might go straight to that episode of Seinfeld when the bakery starts selling only the tops of the muffins and gives the bottoms to a homeless shelter, which naturally outrages the homeless people because what are they, chop liver? Are they not worthy of the full muffin? A classic episode, I assure you. If you haven't seen it you should be ashamed. But no kids. That is not the kind of muffin top that irks me. I'm talking about this kind:
There are several different options available when it comes to avoiding looking like a delicious morning baked good.- Option 1) Cover that shit up. NOT the way the woman in the above picture did. A tight, form-fitting shirt does not hide the fact that your pants are cutting into the sides of your fat. You gotta wear a loose fitting, long shirt. And/or a sweater.
- Option 2) PULL UP YOUR GOD DAMN PANTS! It's not rocket science, people. It is a common fact that your waist is smaller slightly higher up. If you pull up your pants, it may not completely solve the muffin top situation, but it will sure as hell improve it. There is a woman at my office that is guilty of this. Day by day by day (by day... by day) she struts past me with the worst case of muffin top that frankly I've ever seen in my life. And she's not a fat woman. Actually.. she's one of the prettiest in the office (which doesn't say much) or she would be if she wasn't guilty of this god-awful crime. In fact, she is the source of my inspiration for todays blog. I just can't take it anymore and felt the need to vent about it to the online community.
- Option 3) Buy bigger pants. Yes.. I admit, sometimes it is depressing to accept that all those days of drinking and late night Taco C runs have finally gotten the better of you.. Do I still have my size 2s folded in the back of my closet with the faintest of hopes that I will one day be able to fit back in them? Of course. But do I wear them on the regular? Nope. mainly because they literally do not fit me but that's neither here nor there. There comes a time where you just have to suck it up and buy bigger pants. Nobody wants to see your fat rolls hanging over the sides of your jeans. It's simply not attractive.
Let's take a moment to clarify a few things here. ANYONE can get muffin top. Fat girls and skinny girls alike are both culprits of this heinous act. Hell, I have a muffin top right now because the pants I bought Junior year of college (during my thinner days) are really tight and I couldn't find my other ones as I rushed off to work this morning in a hungover stupor from last night's kickball game. But I assure you... no one can see this, as I have cleverly hidden it under my new Dolman top from Express. A loose-fitting, muffin-top hiding shirt. (clearly in today's case, I chose option 1)
So.. now I have to ask myself this question. WHY do people feel that it is socially acceptable to go in public like this? Do they think they are fooling people by squeezing themselves into pants that are clearly too small and then pairing them with an equally too-small shirt? As in, if their clothes are smaller they must be as well? What is the rationale behind this? Do they think it looks GOOD? If anyone has any insight into this situation, please let me know. Because I feel like you have to realize (at least in the extreme cases like my coworker) that this problem exists... and what better way to address a problem than to fix it. Any of the 3 ways above will do. Just for the love of God DO SOMETHING. This blog goes out to all the muffin tops in the world. Someone has got to put an end to this madness. I can't take it any more.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
It's been a while
Hello all
It's been a while since my last post so I thought I'd update you on my recent life activity. .................(birds chirp)............... Aaaand I got nothing. There has been literally nothing going on in my life. Like... nothing of even the remotest interest has happened to me since I last posted. Sure, I could blog about my crazy college days or my shenanigans in Dallas up to this month of alcohol abstinence, but frankly my memory is that of an 80 year old woman and I don't feel like thinking up a good story. Maybe one will come to me while I type this. Who knows. Anyway, after my debaucherous week of 21 year olds and then Austin, I decided I needed to take a break to really reassess the direction of my life up to this point. I was going to figure it all out: my career, my love life, get back into shape... you name it. Don't they call this a quarter-life crisis? Anyway, by October 1, I was going to be a brand new woman.
Well.. sitting here in my cubicle as of Sept. 30th... none of the aforementioned things have occurred. Sure, I may be a little healthier (not drinking and smoking 5 days a week will do that) but as for everything else.... nope. My job is the same. No boys to speak of. Ohh but I did dye my hair brown! So ThATs a little change.(surely you all know by now that a quick change of hair color is the solution to all life's problems) But that's about it.
In my little break from going out, I've noticed a sudden trend of the people in my life; they all seem to be coupling up lately!! What's that about? I guess holiday season is just around the corner and people don't want to be alone. Sadly, staying in every night and watching The CW while knitting and drinking tea, and going to bed by 9:30 (hypothetically. i am OBVIously not talking about myself) isn't necessarily the most ideal environment to meet a potential love interest. So I ask you this: After college, where exactly are you supposed to meet people? Coworkers? Nope. Been down that road and it wasn't pretty. And I've pretty much met all my friends' friends at this point.. I dont know about you all, (actually i do since you all pretty much went to my school) but the thing that made dating in college awesome is that for four years pretty much everyone was perpetually drunk. Then one night you would wastedly hook up, and that would turn into a consistent hookup, then you'd have a DTR (or is it... RDT??) and BAM! you're "dating". And we all knew each other. It was EASY to find out about a guy you had a crush on. Everyone knew who everyone was, their history, their reputation. This could be both a good and bad thing ... but let's just say it's a good thing I graduated when I did because my actions senior year were not my finest, and i'm pretty sure people would not date me. But I digress.. now that college is over, are bars the most common place to meet people?
If you want to be entertained.. seriously... go out to any bar, and just sit on a stool and observe. Its like this crazy mating ritual. They should seriously do a show about it on the Discovery Channel. Everyone dresses up to look their sexiest (kind of like when peacocks show their feathers to attract potential mates).. and goes out. They drink to build up confidence, which can sometimes backfire, (refer to previous post: Alcohol: Friend or Frenemy) and literally SCAN the crowd until they find someone they like. Once they have zeroed in on a target, the show really gets interesting, as I'm sure you're aware, there are several different methods for approaching said person. Pickup lines are cheesy but can be funny. I once had a young Jewish man throw out a catch phrase he was wanting to try out (the Jewish part is relevant to the story, I assure you) , another guy onced told me about his "business idea'" for a coffee table book of people and how they look when they wake up in the morning. Then there's the "accidental drink spill" to start up conversation. Oh, and my personal favorite (and a great way to get free drinks) is to go stand at the bar (ALONE. ladies, you must be alone for this to work) and look confused. I'm not really sure how the look of confusion adds to this routine, but I assure you it has about a 90% success rate. Let people order in front of you and act like maybe you're thinking about what to order. Inevitably, some guy will buy you a drink. Or a shot. Or both.
Anyway, I'm getting off topic. My point is... sometimes I don't want to be forced to partake in this terrible mating ritual of standing (painfully, in heels) at a bar, drinking and trying to look like i'm having fun, and talking to a bunch of duds that have nothing interesting to say in hopes that they'll at least buy me a drink. Or then, if they're cute enough and I give them my number, the best I can seem to hope for is a 10pm text: "what r u up to"... UGH. Remember dating? What happened to that?!?! I mean, sure it's a little forced and awkward but a free meal and some decent conversation never hurt anybody. Plus this way you can actually get to know someone without having to shout "WHAT DO YOU DO" or "WHERE DID YOU GO TO SCHOOL" at the top of your lungs over Lady Gaga in a smoke-infested club. So, in an effort to meet new people (and men in particular) I joined a kickball league. Game one is tonight. Maybe there will be some cute guys on the opposing team. Stay tuned. If not, there's always online dating. (which I have very strong feelings about and will blog about at a later date. tbd.) Hope you all are having wonderful weeks.
It's been a while since my last post so I thought I'd update you on my recent life activity. .................(birds chirp)............... Aaaand I got nothing. There has been literally nothing going on in my life. Like... nothing of even the remotest interest has happened to me since I last posted. Sure, I could blog about my crazy college days or my shenanigans in Dallas up to this month of alcohol abstinence, but frankly my memory is that of an 80 year old woman and I don't feel like thinking up a good story. Maybe one will come to me while I type this. Who knows. Anyway, after my debaucherous week of 21 year olds and then Austin, I decided I needed to take a break to really reassess the direction of my life up to this point. I was going to figure it all out: my career, my love life, get back into shape... you name it. Don't they call this a quarter-life crisis? Anyway, by October 1, I was going to be a brand new woman.
Well.. sitting here in my cubicle as of Sept. 30th... none of the aforementioned things have occurred. Sure, I may be a little healthier (not drinking and smoking 5 days a week will do that) but as for everything else.... nope. My job is the same. No boys to speak of. Ohh but I did dye my hair brown! So ThATs a little change.(surely you all know by now that a quick change of hair color is the solution to all life's problems) But that's about it.
In my little break from going out, I've noticed a sudden trend of the people in my life; they all seem to be coupling up lately!! What's that about? I guess holiday season is just around the corner and people don't want to be alone. Sadly, staying in every night and watching The CW while knitting and drinking tea, and going to bed by 9:30 (hypothetically. i am OBVIously not talking about myself) isn't necessarily the most ideal environment to meet a potential love interest. So I ask you this: After college, where exactly are you supposed to meet people? Coworkers? Nope. Been down that road and it wasn't pretty. And I've pretty much met all my friends' friends at this point.. I dont know about you all, (actually i do since you all pretty much went to my school) but the thing that made dating in college awesome is that for four years pretty much everyone was perpetually drunk. Then one night you would wastedly hook up, and that would turn into a consistent hookup, then you'd have a DTR (or is it... RDT??) and BAM! you're "dating". And we all knew each other. It was EASY to find out about a guy you had a crush on. Everyone knew who everyone was, their history, their reputation. This could be both a good and bad thing ... but let's just say it's a good thing I graduated when I did because my actions senior year were not my finest, and i'm pretty sure people would not date me. But I digress.. now that college is over, are bars the most common place to meet people?
If you want to be entertained.. seriously... go out to any bar, and just sit on a stool and observe. Its like this crazy mating ritual. They should seriously do a show about it on the Discovery Channel. Everyone dresses up to look their sexiest (kind of like when peacocks show their feathers to attract potential mates).. and goes out. They drink to build up confidence, which can sometimes backfire, (refer to previous post: Alcohol: Friend or Frenemy) and literally SCAN the crowd until they find someone they like. Once they have zeroed in on a target, the show really gets interesting, as I'm sure you're aware, there are several different methods for approaching said person. Pickup lines are cheesy but can be funny. I once had a young Jewish man throw out a catch phrase he was wanting to try out (the Jewish part is relevant to the story, I assure you) , another guy onced told me about his "business idea'" for a coffee table book of people and how they look when they wake up in the morning. Then there's the "accidental drink spill" to start up conversation. Oh, and my personal favorite (and a great way to get free drinks) is to go stand at the bar (ALONE. ladies, you must be alone for this to work) and look confused. I'm not really sure how the look of confusion adds to this routine, but I assure you it has about a 90% success rate. Let people order in front of you and act like maybe you're thinking about what to order. Inevitably, some guy will buy you a drink. Or a shot. Or both.
Anyway, I'm getting off topic. My point is... sometimes I don't want to be forced to partake in this terrible mating ritual of standing (painfully, in heels) at a bar, drinking and trying to look like i'm having fun, and talking to a bunch of duds that have nothing interesting to say in hopes that they'll at least buy me a drink. Or then, if they're cute enough and I give them my number, the best I can seem to hope for is a 10pm text: "what r u up to"... UGH. Remember dating? What happened to that?!?! I mean, sure it's a little forced and awkward but a free meal and some decent conversation never hurt anybody. Plus this way you can actually get to know someone without having to shout "WHAT DO YOU DO" or "WHERE DID YOU GO TO SCHOOL" at the top of your lungs over Lady Gaga in a smoke-infested club. So, in an effort to meet new people (and men in particular) I joined a kickball league. Game one is tonight. Maybe there will be some cute guys on the opposing team. Stay tuned. If not, there's always online dating. (which I have very strong feelings about and will blog about at a later date. tbd.) Hope you all are having wonderful weeks.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Lesson #7: Always Have an Exit Strategy
- The 6 am Bolt. This was my personal favorite in the early college years, when I'd wake up crammed in a twin bed between the wall and the guy who is now snoring like a freight train half an inch from my ear. I had two options: suck it up and try to go back to sleep, or I could sneak out, go back to my dorm and actually get a few hours of decent Z's in my own bed. I chose Option B every time. This option had the distinct advantage of avoiding the public walk of shame; however, it also created the issue of how to act the next time I saw the snoring culprit. Does the escape-without-notice require some sort of acknowledgment or apology? Or can I treat him like I normally would? I never know.
The Covert Clothes Collection. During one of my more recent escapades, I apparently decided the right way to handle things post-coitus was to get fully dressed and be standing by the door, shoes in hand, by the time the poor guy got out of the bathroom. This certainly took him by surprise. I started to clue in that maybe this wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had when he was talking faster than I’ve ever heard a guy speak, trying to cram in all of the “are you sure you don’t want to stay/text me when you get home/what are your plans this weekend” niceties before I was out the door.
- The Post-It Note Notification. Okay, I admit I haven’t tried this one yet, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. But on a preview for Jenna Elfman’s new show, “Accidentally on Purpose,” it showed her leaving a post-it note on a sleeping guy’s forehead before sneaking out. I’d rate this one about equal to my 6 am Bolt; sure, she politely left a message of her whereabouts, but she also lost points by immediately running into the guy’s 3 roommates when she left his room. Whoops.
It’s equally difficult when the situation is reversed and the guy is crashing at my place. One time I was so irritated by the drooling male hogging the covers that I went down the hall and crawled in bed with my roommate. When she woke up, I told her “There’s a boy in my bed. Can you make him leave?” To which she replied “No, you brought him here, now you have to deal with getting rid of him.” Damn.
I can’t help thinking that life would be so much easier if each uncomfortable circumstance came with one of those airline safety cards, pointing to the overhead signs and floor lights that illuminate the way to your options of forward exit doors, overwing exit rows, or rear exit doors. It’d also be convenient to have a strategic clue or two about when to utilize the aforementioned exits. Like in the situation with the unwanted guest in my bed, wouldn’t it be cool if I could have pressed a button that lit up the exit lights, thus signaling to him that it was time for him to go home? And if the guy was someone I genuinely liked, rather than someone my beer goggles erroneously estimated to be a good kisser, then I could just leave the exit lights off, indicating that he could hang out for a while. Seriously, I could have avoided like 80% of the awkward moments in my life if this was an actual invention. I obviously have yet to find the proper protocol for the morning-after encounter. Maybe I just haven’t grown up enough to advance to the maturity level of someone that can show no fear in the face of an awkward situation. But until then, feel free to share any limited-risk exit strategies you know; I might need to shake things up.
Lesson Learned: Nothing yet. But I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
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