Ridiculously Obvious Observations from 32,000 ft.

I am 32,000 feet above the earth right now, surrounded by about one thousand screaming kids and have no where to go. Seriously, this is just another reason to never, ever go to Orlando. I absolutely adore my little brother who lives there and want to show him some love by going to check out his graduation but does EVERY New Yorker need to take their 8 children to Orlando to see Disney world THIS weekend? I am listening to Ashlee Simpson scream LA LA on volume level nine, right in my ears, just to drown them out. Lucky me, I seemed to have brought only my workout CD with me on this trip, which explains why I am listening to the extremely non talented Ashley. I believe that a work out is absolutely positively the only acceptable time to listen to either Brittany, Ashley or Lindsey Lohan. And I guess that its pretty clear right now why it would be good at this moment to own an iPod. There is obviously no need to point out at this time that though I live in the information age, I have yet to convert to the iPod trend. There is just something that I don't like about them, I think its cause EVERYONE has them, or maybe I am just a slow adopter. But, I digress, let's get back to the observations from above.

It is weird to notice how synergistic the world is becoming. For instance I have always been an American Airlines girl, and I do enjoy my share of CBS Eye on America, but it has only recently come to my attention that American is a preferred airline of the company Viacom who is the owner of CBS. Interesting, it really makes me look closer at other things going on out there; sometimes I wonder if I really want to know all of this? Only recently I have begun to have serious sleeping issues. Now this is a very big problem for me, I have never done a single drug in my whole life, so, sleeping pills aren't really a viable option for me. In fact, I am hyper sensitive to drugs; I found that out in high school when I was high in Mr. Twaddle's math class after taking an antibiotic for a cat bite. I called my mom in a panic and she in turn called the doctor only to find out that it happens to one in 400 people. At that time, I decided that if prescription drugs make me high, I better stay away from the illegal ones cause who knows what they would do to me. So, now that my head is filled with this completely unnecessary information about corporate synergies and I can't sleep! What is a girl to do? So I take Tylenol PM from time to time, but I notice that first of all it takes a really long time to wear off and so the next day at work I can barely function, and second, it turns me into a psycho bitch! I am grumpy and foul mouthed and really can't deal with anyone. So now I have to stop taking that too, maybe I will just stop reading and remain happily uninformed. I want my rose colored glasses back!

Ok so I guess this blog entry is kind of boring so maybe I should recap my birthday. Very interesting developments.

BIRTHDAY RECAP

First let me give a big shout out to all my fabulous friends who sent me birthday wishes and those who helped me celebrate by consuming more alcohol than one person should be allowed to consume. Maybe that is why I have been in such a black mood this week, post birthday depression.

So, my day, or should I say my week, was fabulous, I will try to figure out how to post a photo here and show you how much it kicked ass.

Bummer, no luck on the photo.

So, the French boy promised that he would come out for at least an hour to my party and as of 12:30 Uncle Mings was packed. I was suddenly afraid that if he showed up he might not be able to find me! So the logical me, after 4 captain and cokes and one shot of southern comfort, decided to text him to ask if he was coming or not. I figured that at the worst he would reply that he wasn't coming but then I would know, no more wondering for the rest of the night. Boys never cease to amaze me, and they call us confusing? Just as soon as you think you have a boy pegged for his habits he changes his tactics. No text back from the French boy, not at 1a, not at 2a and not at 3a when I left Uncle Ming's with my friend JA to hit another hot spot with his friend.

Well, I was in for a surprise, down on some sketchy street by Canal we popped into a fairly decent bar, the bouncer held me at the door for a second too long, for reasons that I can not remember and upon handing my ID back I raced to the restroom. After a moment of contemplation on the two doors, one marked clearly MEN and the other marked RESTROOM, I chose door number two "RESTROOM". I pulled the door open easily and much to my great surprise there was JA peeing!!! Eeeeeeewwww, that is like walking in on your brother! You don't want to see that, gross! And even worse I had to pee like a race horse (BTW-I hate this term but felt the need to use it right now) so I had no choice but to do the awkward squat and tilt into the urinal. There I was in my lovely sparkly blue birthday shoes in one of the grossest urinals in all of Manhattan doing the squat and tilt. And, to make matters worse when I walked out of the bathroom, my heel got stuck in the floor and then I saw that JA and friends already had drinks and forgot to get one for me. I marched my fabulous birthday self up to the counter to get a drink.

Suddenly, I felt as if I was Alice in Wonderland and had eaten the wrong side of the mushroom, the bar was as high as my head, I could barely see over it and the bar stools required that I climb up a mini ladder to get on top. After accomplishing quite a balancing act I was happily surprised to find a handsome Irish boy at the top of my climb. The Giant, I aptly named him since he was about 6' 5" and was sitting at the extra large bar, apparently lived in Milwaukee, (excuse me? who lives in Milwaukee), was cute, seemed to find me interesting and the French boy still hadn't texted me back, so, I decided that he should entertain me. He was surprisingly not interested in staring at my boobs all night like everyone else (which by the way didn't offend me at all, I mean if you wear a booby outfit isn't that what you are asking people to do?). What? you must be asking yourself? He wasn't looking at your boobs?? something must be wrong with him? Well, he did explain in a very drunken manner that he was making an effort to not check them out cause he didn't want to be THAT guy. Very respectable catholic dude I might add. So, after smooching on me, I immediately informed him that I would not be having sex with him this evening. He looked at me like I was an alien and asked why I would say a thing like that. I just said I wanted him to know so that there was no misunderstanding. At this happy moment I checked my phone one last time, still no text from the French boy. So, I figured, out of sight out of mind. Really I was punishing him - it's my favorite thing to do, punish people when they don't even know and never find out, but in my head I'm winning and that's all that matters. Oh the games we play.

So, long story short, The Giant was staying around the corner from my house so we shared a cab home, then, I remember buying pizza with him, I remember climbing the stairs with my shoes off and that's about it. I woke up in the morning with a moment of horror to notice The Giant sleeping next to me. I had another moment of horror as I tried to remember how he got there! Think, think, think...oh yes, the giant, from the second bar, is staying on the next block from me and no we didn't have sex. PHEW. Next where is my purse? I see my phone and my keys but no purse and no camera!!

Hey Giant, where is my purse? Hey where did I put my purse? He replied, "I don't know, stop asking me!" Wow this guy is really a charmer. GREAT! I really know how to punish people, I'm punishing me. Finally, I find my purse carefully tucked on a shelf in my kitchen, I can only imagine... hmmm let me put this here so that I don't lose it. I should be banned from drinking EVER. So I climb back into bed with the Giant and ask him sweetly if he has any idea what my name is. "Ummmmmm," he thinks, "NO." I AM MORTIFIED. I am THAT girl! I inform him of my name and he tells me he couldn't remember it cause I have a weird name. I mean what is he talking about What?? Isn't a weird name. DUH.

I lye there awkwardly staring at the ceiling. I check my phone again to see who I drunk dialed and still no text from the French boy so I decide to delete him. I am deleting him out of my life. I am not allowed to call him anymore. I also delete every adorable text message in my phone from him. I should have known better, his first text to me was "I like you sometimes" what does that mean? When it's convenient for you? Boy if the Giant knew what was going on in my head that would be bad. Wait, the Giant doesn't even know what my name is, he probably is married with 5 kids in Milwaukee. Anyway, we proceed to make out and it isn't that bad, he is very polite and wants to snuggle.

At noon, I have to get up and go to a brunch so I go about my day as if he is not there. I also proceed to say whatever pops into my head. Things like, why the fuck do you live in Milwaukee? Do you think I look like a stork when I stand on one leg? And the best, in reply to the Giant telling me that he doesn't have my number. "Well, you never asked" I say sarcastically.

He asks, "well can I have it?"

"No, was just using you," I say. He looked shocked. Wait, maybe he doesn't have 5 kids in Milwaukee. Ok fine, I will give you my number.

"Can I see you later?" he asks.

"maybe, we will see," I dryly reply. I finish getting ready and realize that I am being a super bitch. I offer him whatever is in my fridge which I tell him I am 90% certain there is only water and beer. He rolls out of the kitchen with a Corona, hmmmm, maybe he is my kind of guy. Maybe he isn't half bad. At least he wants to spend more time with me, better than the French boy.

Upon hailing me a cab for my brunch the Giant says he will see me later and I tell him that he can be my pretend boyfriend until he has to go back to Milwaukee. He smiles, the cab speeds off and I look happily at the sunshiny outside world. Who says we can't all have mini happy endings?