Green Tea Makes You Pee

Delusions of Grandeur No More

2006-09-21T18:51:00.000-07:00

I had a moment today. A moment where my past and my future, which I have held separate for so long, collided and it gave me a glimpse of what is possible. A moment that was 30 years in the making but it was worth it.

I have a new job, a job where I’m passionate about the product and I feel proud to go to work every day. Finally, I made it to the big leagues, to television where everything is shiny and nice, to the crème de la crème of all networks, the one that people salivate over, the cool kids club that everyone aspires to get into. I keep thinking that they let me in by accident, that sooner or later they will discover what they’ve done but today, today I realized that I do belong and they don’t even know what I’m gonna bring them next.

We all know that I used to do tricks on horses, I know that it gave me the experience of a lifetime, that there are so many things that I learned by traveling the world, that I have a competitive spirit and that I can apply all of these skills to the real world. But I never feel like my experiences matter, I have delusions of grandeur that I was a “someone” and that I can’t find my place in the real world because of it. But today I did. On the new project that I’m working on the producer asked me to a script review meeting. I did my “job” assessed the scripts from the clients point of view, made sure we had delivered on everything promised. But the creatives weren’t satisfied, they wanted to push the limits, show the real world a believable character, an elite athlete torn between her career and a social life. I spoke up, I said I know what that’s like, and I can speak from experience. And so I told my story and the producer loved it, not as some fairytale fable but as a REAL LIFE EXPERIENCE, one that many women face and that should be told by our character. Today my experiences shaped something that is going on our network and I am proud. I used my past life to shape my future and I realized that it’s possible. It’s possible to feel the joy as I used to performing in the arena for a big crowd, I was proud that I was able to help shape something that I believe in so strongly and I’m going to continue shaping everything I work on..

So I dedicate this blog to all of the strong women that have helped shape my life. My mentors: my mom, Emma, Stacey, Peggy and the ones still to come. To all my girlfriends that have stuck with my through thick and thin, listening to my delusions of grandeur: Kristi, Jaime, Kim, Kelly, Shannon, Elina and last but not least my boys: the ones that keep me on my toes and in the real world: Vern, Will and my love, Eliott.

I'm Destined To Be A Copywriter

2006-07-10T10:55:00.000-07:00

Oh to be paid to write snarky copy like this... A girl can dream can't she??

For extra fun click play dumb, good times, good times.

ArchPort Sandals
$44.95 at ArchPortShoes.com

Carrying a bunch of stuff in your swim trunk pockets is a hassle and when wet makes you look like you just crapped yourself. Thankfully, the shoe wizards at ArchPort have designed a sandal to minimize your load.

The sandals are standard, unattractive, ankle strap models, equipped with small compartments in the arches. Each holds a fitted wallet-esque insert, while leaving enough room to accommodate keys or other small items. For safety, the cavities are secured with snap locks, plus Velcro covers that seal out sand, debris, and the ashes of murdered lifeguards.

The APs are made with comfortable polyeurethane midsoles and are simply sized small, medium, or large. They come in blue, black, and brown so you can buy the hue that best matches your suntan or melanoma.

But even though you can now chuck your mugger-attracting fanny pack, you still may be a target, because you're ugly. If you're accosted, pat your pockets, play dumb, and crap your pants to distract them from your sandals.

I'm A Reliable Pirate

2006-06-07T08:49:00.000-07:00

Wow, reliable pirate huh? That is NOT exciting. I need to work on that.

My pirate name is:

Dread Pirate Kidd

Like the famous Dread Pirate Roberts, you have a keen head for how to make a profit. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.

PS. I know I am a loser for not writing lately, more to come soon I promise.

Technology Is GREAT!

2006-06-06T14:04:00.000-07:00

Check it out! I can put songs on my blog... which reminds me. Is there no originality left in the world?

Dani California

Last Dance with Mary Jane

Aujourd'hui Il Pleut

2006-04-23T12:52:00.000-07:00

Today it is raining; the kind of grey, cold rain that keeps people indoors, cozied up on the couch with a good book and some hot chocolate. But, I am not one of these people. I see rain and I want to go out. I feel trapped, desperate, unable to accomplish anything in my own four walls that I call an apartment. On days like these, the apartment gets much smaller, much more cluttered with small things to do, and I can do none of them.

I awoke at 7:30am and immediately opened my shades to watch the tiny droplets of water sprinkle on the rooftops below my window. I watched as people scurry around with grand, large umbrellas to keep them dry. I proceed to scrounge the “world wide web” or the “internets” as our friend George W calls it (um there is ONE internet buddy, just ONE, no “S”) for a way to move to France, what papers do I need, how am I going to get a job, how can I escape this place? Finally, I tire of lying down, tire of typing on my lap. You know what I long for the most on days like these? On these grey, cold days trapped in my apartment, I long for a kitchen table; a large one where you can spread out your things and not clean them up, where you can make stacks and stacks of things to do and accomplish them one by one, where you can eat and write and keep your stacks all at the same time, where you can stare out the window for minutes on end at the rain coming down, comforted by the warmth from inside your house. I long for that. A table. A kitchen table says to me that you have a home and that it’s a real home. Instead I find myself suiting up for a rainy day quest to find “a table,” a place where I can spread out my stuff and think.

I head up the street to my favorite “plain old good food” establishment, 7A. Always the best food there, mediocre service and endless chatter, it’s so loud that you can do nothing but climb inside your head and think. It’s the kind of static noise that forces you to focus in and really THINK. I never understood that till recently. It’s too quiet to think people would say. It didn’t make sense to me. If it’s quiet then you have nothing to do but think. No, you have EVERYTHING to do but think, you can wait for the next sound, you can wonder what that intermittent clicking is, when it’s so noisy that you can’t distinguish one noise from the next then you have nothing to do but focus in and get your shit done.

Upon my arrival I find that everyone else had my same idea, they were all searching for a place to get out. Since when are New Yorkers early birds? Its only 11:15am, shouldn’t they be lying with their head in a toilet after a night of debaucher like all normal people? I install myself at the bar, but, a bar is not, in fact, a table. I eat my ham and cheese omelet surrounded by noise, pay the bartender and continue my quest for “a table.”

Next stop Café Pick Me Up, they have there very nice table, a good ambiance for getting things done, windows where I can see the rain and COOKIES! Also very good for getting things done. (We won’t discuss my need for a diet till tomorrow; lord knows you can’t start a diet on a SUNDAY!!) My quest seems futile at this point. All the tables are taken, is it impossible in this city to find a damn table? At this rate it would be easier to find a BOYFRIEND than a table. Alors, I must move on.

Finally my last ditch effort, Alt Coffee, a vegan coffee house that doesn’t have cookies, isn’t warm cause they leave the door open AND smells of wet dog, wait that’s me, the fur on the hood of my coat is wet. But, they do in fact have a few tables and I manage to snag a seat at a communal table where I am now sitting across from a young, blemished, red head that seems to be working on a term paper. Oh to be young again.

So, I found a table and I am writing, but I am somehow disappointed. Kind of like bad sex with a really hot guy; you think that you finally found what you were looking for but somehow it wasn’t as good as you expected.

To Sum It All Up

2006-04-22T12:25:00.000-07:00

How do you know when its over? Is it when you no longer laugh at the difficulties that you found so amusing in the beginning? Is it when you fancy going to bed at an early hour rather than hitting the town? Is it when twenty bucks suddenly seems an absurd price to pay for a hamburger? And when you know its over how do you go about breaking it off with one of the most glorious cities in the world? (oh geez this is a BLATANT rip off of Sex In The City...I heart NY...Get a life!!)

Ok so, in my quest to decide what do to with the rest of my life... (Not any better)

I just arrived back from Paris and though I never want to leave that place somehow, this year is worst than ever. I wander the wintery streets of New York thinking about what I am going to do next and trying to find solace in what I have accomplished while I was here in New York over the past four years. Here goes, the dreaded list.

I have accomplished a long list of failed attempts at relationships, some near, some far, all excellent (ok some horrific) memories. Let's revisit shall we?

THE NEW JERSEY BOY - Timing is everything isn't it? And this one, the timing was always off. We hit it off at a horseshow before I decided to move to New York and upon my arrival in the "Big Apple" he promised to show me around. Great kisser, fun all-around guy, liked outdoor activities. In my months of unemployment he kept me occupied with days at his Jersey Shore beach house surfing, trips upstate to see the leaves, an overnighter on Block Island. Boy did we have fun till he left for Utah for the winter. Then it was an on again off again disaster that resulted in him snooping through my room to read my journal to see if I was "sexual" to find out the answer of why I wasn't having sex with him.

FERRIS BUELER - What an adorable boy. Too bad he was too nice for me. The spitting image of Matthew Broderick and he had domestic skills to match. Understanding of my quest to conquer the world, supportive and patient - it was far too much for me to take.

THE FRENCH BAR OWNER - Who knew a midnight quest to find a location for a New Years Party with my friend Dave would find me making out with the owner in the basement of the bar? But what fun ensued; unabashedly French, suave and "bad," he was perfectly wrong for me. I enjoyed evenings of drinking and eating, discussing the world, travel and avoiding talking about politics at all costs. Cutting work for fake doctors appointments so that I could "nap" with him when he had time, midnight rendezvous and fantastic "dates", I couldn't get enough. And just when you want more, they want less.

THE BOY FROM SON CUBANO - On a daring evening out with my favorite Italian princess from queens, in a fit of superiority I left my number for the bartender. And yes, he called right away. Months of not sleeping the whole night through left me tired and wanting a boy to hang out with during normal hours, too bad I had to find a new favorite restaurant too.

THE CEO - Suave, rich and handsome but tres cliche. He fancied himself "Mr. Big" so much that he called immediately after the finale of SITC and told me that he had the same name as "Mr. Big." Car service, fancy dinners, long chats on the phone are things I enjoyed but along with that came his excessive drinking, his penchant for "toys" (which I discovered while snooping the ONE time I stayed over) and his 3 children that he forgot to tell me about for 6 months (found also on same "sleep over" night). Unfortunately he never stayed sober long enough to warrant any nookie, I finally had to break up with him over email.

THE MIAMI BOY TOY - Ahhhh, my no muss no fuss perfect relationship. So nice to have someone you can "depend on."

THE ACTOR MAN - You know it can never be a good thing when you relationship starts with "I'm very busy" but to this day, I will never forget the time he did have for me. AND I have one notch on my belt that gives me some celebrity status!

THE DETECTIVE - Who knew that getting mugged could turn out so well? And it never hurts to have the law on your side right? Always dependable in a pinch, changes a mean lightbulb and gives new meaning to "lights and sirens." Too bad he occasionally forgets to take his WEDDING RING off when he comes to see me. Only one of "New York's" finest!

THE FRENCH WAITER - I know, I know I have a problem with the French. I think I was born in the wrong country. Well apparently so was this guy, he wanted a green card.

THE RECORD LABEL EXEC - His business cards are what make him cool, entry to any venue in the city, too bad he never wanted to take me with. And somehow all that music rendered his hearing useless to my explanations that I wasn't interested in sleeping with him. The only thing I enjoy is the morning laugh when I receive the monthly attempt at a booty call.

THE VEGAS BOY - I find it ironic that the one to take me off the market would live in "sin city," he charmed me from the moment I met him. I became a girlfriend, worked day and night so that I could go and see him a few weekends a month. Passed on dates with others, waited dutifully for his phone calls and loved every minute of our hour long conversations. We balanced each other out: encouraging, loving, supporting, or did we? I was in love but couldn't make it work.

MY BROTHERS FRIEND - I'm officially the "older woman." But its fun, I have no desire to grow up and he makes me feel young and silly. From Jaeger shots, to kitchen parties and cheap beers this does the trick when you are wallowing in self pity cause you just turned 30. And boy does he know how to kiss.

If you can make it here you can make it anywhere. Isn't that what they say? Did I make it? How do you know if you made it? And where do you go after you do? Where is life going to take me next?

I'm Huge In France

2006-04-16T12:05:00.000-07:00

I’m huge in France; it’s really where my primary fan base is. Hoards of children flock to me asking for my autograph, screaming fans, paparazzi everywhere. Not quite, but wouldn’t that be funny if it did? But back to my original comment, I am better in France - my stock rises, I am automatically an individual apart from everyone else because I’m not French but I speak French. Its like I am honorary French. I relax easily into the lifestyle here, the chatting, the coffees, cadence that the language rolls off the tongue.

I arrived here yesterday and didn’t even blink an eye as I scurried around trying to get enough “epece” to buy my metro ticket. When I fly into New York and something goes wrong, I get flustered, ANGRY even but not here in France. I am surrounded by a sense of calm that I can only attribute to the reason that I adore the French, I discovered it yesterday. The Reason being? The French don’t apologize for anything. The just are. It is what it is so deal with it. Time after time I get asked why I love France so much, after all they are impossibly arrogant, difficult and smelly. Well, I love that they are impossibly arrogant, difficult, well ok maybe I don’t love that they are smelly but that is what brought it to my attention that they don’t apologize for anything. Don’t have a smart chip on your credit card, too bad, you can’t buy a metro card. Not oh we are so sorry… just too bad. You don’t speak the language? Too bad. I love that! I have spent my ENTIRE life apologizing for different things. Oh I’m sorry that I worked really hard and won the competition. Oh I’m sorry I want to take a moment for myself and treat myself to something nice. What, isn't that the American way? I’m sorry our president sucks, what else do you want me to say?

Which leads me to love coming here. I can do whatever I want and not apologize, I can be flamboyant and irritating and demanding and everyone finds that endearing. They love me, they love that I have a goofy accent when I speak. They ADORE ME. Je suis une star!

Ok enough of the love for myself… Yesterday I spent the day in the least enjoyable manner. Hanging out with other American’s in Paris. I hate that. I like to lose myself here, blend in. Even if I never speak to anyone the entire time, I just like to fade into the background and eavesdrop on another way of life. So today I have begun my real adventure. I am on a train on my way to Saumur. I will spend the weekend with my French friends watching crazy people do tricks on horses. This is a slight bit tough for me to sit and watch as I’m delusional and think that I can still do it, you know, if I had enough time. Of course I could. I don’t see that much progression in the sport, I could still catch up. I could pull a Katarina Witt and make a comeback? Or could I?

Delusions of Grandeur Part Deux

2006-04-12T19:03:00.000-07:00

So, we all know that I fancy myself something of a celebrity. Maybe a “Q” list celebrity, well maybe I don't even make that list but in my own head I'm a celebrity none the less. We also know that anything ordinary just won’t do, I continue to dwell on the past when I was a star in the strangest sport on earth.

Recently, I received a call from my gym urging me to take advantage of the free personal training session that I received upon signing up for the uptown Health and Racquet Club. I tried my best to shrug it off with no avail. Man, the guy on the other end of the phone was persistent; basically talking about anything he could think of so that I would eventually have to sign up for the session just to get him off my phone. He counseled me about the benefits of owning your own place rather than renting, he told me how to get a mortgage, he begged for me to be his new friend since he works so much and really only hangs out with his dog. My final effort to refuse was flat, dry and to the point, “Ok here’s the deal. I am an ex-world champion (slight lie, just a smidge, I was only second in the world, a point that is going to rest on my shoulder till the day I die) of equestrian vaulting. I have been training since I was seven with some of the best trainers in the world. I will consider taking one of your personal training sessions if you truly think that they can teach me something new. I don’t like to be patronized or treated like a “girl” when I am working out.”

There wasn’t even a pause, this guy should get an award for his sales techniques, “well if you don’t want to be patronized then you should stop calling yourself a girl.’

I returned, “I prefer to be called a girl, I don’t want to be a woman, I am never going to grow up.”

“Fine,” he replies, “I am going to have my best trainer call you, he trains all our trainers, and he will show some new stuff.”

Fine I reply. I have to work now; I am hanging up on you.

A day later, “Eddie” calls me, the first question out of his mouth was “have you ever trained before” seriously people, is this how you run your business? Did I not explain myself clearly yesterday? He sets my appointment and says he will see me the next day. Just as I am considering not showing up for my dreaded patronizing experience he calls again. "Um, I double booked myself but I really want to train you so I have left a message for the other lady to move her appointment."explains the fabulous Eddie. Once again, is this a good way to run a business? Somehow I manage to not cancel my appointment.

The next day I show up at the gym early to get some cardio in before my session. At 7:30 on the dot I am joined by the wonderful Eddie. He starts out as all trainers do by wanting to put me on the treadmill. I love how they want to waste 10 minutes of your training session by putting you on the treadmill where they don’t have to attend to you. Wait, I do the same thing with my students, it’s the easiest way to make money, sit and do nothing but you seem like you are doing something. So bad! I explain that I am completely ready to go, warmed up and stretched. He proceeds to take me over to do some exercises, no questions asked just going jump in with both feet. I explain once again that I have trained since I was seven and also that I prefer to have a strong core and not do too many heavy lifting exercises because I bulk up really fast. He tells me that, “a lot has changed since you were seven.”

Hello, simple grammar, SINCE I was seven not WHEN I was seven. I try to tell him about my training from before, he is completely uninterested. Is he blowing off my life’s work? This is the kind of thing that I can’t deal with. I am an ATHLETE, I deserve to be fawned over and revered. No, he just keeps putting me through exercise after exercise. And, to tell you the truth, I am winded. In fact after one series he tries to ask me a question and I can’t breathe. Wait, I am an athlete, how embarrassing, he is kicking my ass. I suffer through the rest of the session with him urging me to sign up for three sessions a week at the low special only for me price of $78 per session. Are you kidding me, pay for this torture of being a nobody at the gym for nearly $300 a week? Not possible. At last we get to the saving grace, abdominal exercises, I kill at these. He was very impressed, finally, the respect I deserve.

The New Male Escort

2006-04-09T18:42:00.000-07:00

The other day I enjoyed quite an interesting debate with a few male friends about male and female strip clubs. They were trying to convince me that male and female strip clubs are no different, that women just as men want to see the "goods," or the "junk"(this is my new favorite word for the penis). Quick side note that one of these men had the occasion to attend a male strip club when I took my best friend to one in Las Vegas for her birthday (ok, he is my ex and I made him go with me). Now I am sure that you are all wondering if this was the end of our relationship when I found out he was willing to go to a male strip club and ogle his own kind. In fact, it was not, we went because a friend of mine is a dancer there and offered us free drinks. Yes, once again the lure of free goods, see how compelling it is? And people wonder why marketing just isn't working these days. One only has to promise free alcohol and it will sell like hotcakes.

Ok back to the strip club.

I myself had never been to one with men on parade so I didn't quite know what to expect. I envisioned women in their forties drooling like ravenous dogs trying to get at some fresh meat; I also envisioned impeccably groomed toned pecks and a banana hammock. All of which, by the way, didn't really appeal to me. Give me a toned tanned body on a surfboard any day, I can seriously do without the banana hammock. But anyway, sad to say that it was exactly as I imagine Cliche batchelorette parties, women yes, ravenous for fresh meat. But the thing that amazed me the most was that these women weren't content to just look, they wanted to touch, rub and gyrate with the said performers. Now this was interesting to me. In a female strip club it's look, don't touch. In the male strip club it was all about the TOUCHING!! In fact my lucky friend who was celebrating her birthday actually confirmed said touching and digital penetration even! Armed with these facts, the ex tried to pass it off as a big win for all mankind, saying that women too enjoy the strip club and that it is now an equal playing field, it's a free pass of sorts for men to keep going to the strip clubs because see, he witnessed it, women enjoy it too. But this leads me to argue that it takes a certain kind of woman to go to this place. Men are titillated (yes I said tit) by looking at just about anything but women on the other hand (as observed in person) need that contact to get off, and only a certain kind of woman would in fact frequent a place like that.

This led me to wonder, where are all the other women going? I happened to be jogging on the treadmill at my posh uptown health and racquet club while I was pondering this when I began to notice something. I was surrounded by HOT, TONED male trainers who were training ONLY WOMEN. Maybe I am onto something here. I watched carefully as the trainer explained each movement that the ladies were to do by gently touching their backs, legs and buttocks. Squeeze here, lift here, do the movement like this he says as he wraps an arm around her stomach to help her tilt her pelvis into the perfect anatomical position. And the best comes for those who last through the grueling yes sensual exercise regimen. Then comes ten minutes saved for stretching. Here you are placed on a massage table and contorted into various positions that are only best achieved by the trainer lying directly atop the you. A light bulb came on over my head. Here is where the women go. They come in for their personal training sessions. Personal trainers are the new male escorts. Here women can come to a socially acceptable location to be touched and fawned over for a complete hour. They then can proceed to the nearest shower to finish off armed with the images and sensations of the last hours training session. After all we know that men are visually stimulated, simple creatures that they are. Women however are advanced enough that all it takes is her creative mind to create a fantasy that can last for weeks.

Neither Here Nor There

2006-04-05T19:07:00.000-07:00

So… A Russian man fell on me today in the subway. No beating around the bush on this one, I’m going to get straight to it. He fell; not in that oops the subway jerked and I accidentally bumped you kind of way, you know, the kind where an over the shoulder glance and a gentle shoulder shrug will suffice for an apology. And no, he didn’t fall in that oh the subway swayed so I’m going to take this opportunity to grope you and blame public transportation for it, the kind where the bump is usually followed by a sideways glance checking to see if a grind might be acceptable to follow? No, he fell in an all out body slam fall and I totally saw it coming. I heard some loud Russian being spoken, now who am I to say if it was actually Russian I heard, last time I checked I didn’t speak a word of the language, nope, nada, niet - well ok so I know one word. But anyway, the Russian men, the two of them get on the subway and start progressing toward the two empty seats next to me. Now if you are familiar with the New York subway system you will know that the “F” train has the type of seating that is a combination of sideways bench seats as well as forward and backward facing bus type seating. I was sitting on the sideways bench seat and they were aiming for the bus seats facing me. They were maneuvering their way into the seats and just as they started the decent to place their buttocks in the seats, hence their center of gravity was already pitched forward, I got a whiff of vodka on the breath when subway lurched forward. In slow motion the Russian man starts the fall onto me, his friend reaches out to try to catch him and pull him back but nothing is going to stop this guy. He goes down and down and down, right across my lap. If I hadn't been so stunned I would have realized that he was in the perfect position for me to deliver quite a spanking to this man. But, I missed my chance, plus, he wasn’t cute. So then, as if getting fallen on wasn’t enough then I had to then endure six stops of trying not to: number one, laugh cause a man just fell on me, number two, politely smile as if everything is ok while the two Russian men offered me thumbs up and number three, keep my eyes directed straight ahead. I mean how long can one stare at the awful advertisements that they have posted on the subway. I now know that channel 6 has news at 6, 8, 10 and 11. Can anyone really watch that much news?

So… in other exciting New York happenings that you really would be better off not knowing about. Today on this tremendously fun filled fifth day of April it snowed. Yes, people, it actually snowed, not for a few minutes either, but for a good solid hour. I woke up this morning and it had just rained, then it got sunny and next thing you know, it’s snowing!! When are we going to stop the charade and admit that this is GLOBAL WARMING! We have officially fucked up the weather patterns!

So… last on the agenda tonight, I am playing every New Yorkers favorite game. It’s called - let’s see what is in the fridge tonight. This evening I had a delicious meal that included: a half portion of pasta, 9 Original Club Crackers with some week old brie cheese (yea threw that out after a bite), a grapefruit and a bowl of plain yogurt. No, I’m not still in college and yea, I just turned 30. Wow, if that isn’t the best testimonial for my domestic skills I don’t know what is. Hmmmm and I often wonder why the men aren’t flocking to me? But, on that note, when are these cooking channels going to get a clue! Start a cooking show called 4X4 cooking where some snazzy chef comes into your miniscule apartment and shows you how to cook amazing things in a kitchen that is four feet by four feet with only eggs, canned corn, parsnips and some garlic pepper. Um, what?? who has parsnips in their fridge??

Boy Talk

2006-04-03T15:59:00.000-07:00

Here’s a story of two little girls contemplating the age old question of what to do about boys.

WHAT??: OK, on to more exciting things
WHAT??: Things like... The Young Boy
RockerGirl: OK...do talk…
WHAT??: Well, he went to the movie premiere with me on Tuesday and then stayed over at my place
RockerGirl: Oh really?
WHAT??: Yea, but he was really stressed about work because he didn’t finish something just so he could go with me. So we didn’t really make out cause he was tired and had to go to work at the CRACK!
WHAT??: Then I was irritated so I ignored him…cause I’m so mature
RockerGirl: But you’re a girl, he is supposed to WANT you
WHAT??: Yea, I know so that's why I was ignoring im, but then tonight I was by his work so I called him... you know, to say hi… (clearly I have NO self control) and he was working late so he invited me up to say hi in his office but I was only there for 2 minutes
RockerGirl: Right...well? That’s good that you saw him
WHAT??: I guess, I thought he might ask me out for the weekend… but nothing
WHAT??: So now i am back to ignorning him
WHAT??: Once again... VERY mature
RockerGirl: I hate boys......
RockerGirl: Sooo... I have a question for you. How do you know if it’s ok to call them or when to wait and let them get in touch with you?
RockerGirl: I sound like a little girl
WHAT??: I have no fucking idea
RockerGirl: I am sooo confused
WHAT??: I just go with ... if I feel like calling then I do... with a sprinkling of restraint
RockerGirl: Really????
WHAT??: Yea
RockerGirl: See, I want to and I have been refraining
WHAT??: I figure its better to be yourself, the less games the better
RockerGirl: True...but I fear rejection
WHAT??: CLEARLY I'm not the expert; I already demonstrated NO self restraint above
WHAT??: I think rejection is sort of inevitable
WHAT??: But if you don’t put yourself out there nothing can possibly happen
WHAT??: It’s like trying to win the lottery
RockerGirl: Awww...that’s sad isn’t it
WHAT??: Well you can’t win if you don’t play
RockerGirl: That’s true
WHAT??: And you can quote me on that!
RockerGirl: haha
WHAT??: You can also quote me on this...
WHAT??: Dating boys is like trying on bathing suits
WHAT??: You have to try on a lot to find the right one
RockerGirl: Oh I like that
WHAT??: You know... try them on to see if they make you look cute
WHAT??: Or if can you run in it without it falling down
RockerGirl: Interesting...
WHAT??: Or is it water resistant?
RockerGirl: Thats great
WHAT??: AND... you will know exactly which one you like when you find it
RockerGirl: Awwww....i like that
WHAT??: You dont need someone else to tell you that its the right one
WHAT??: Cause really you know best
WHAT??: I will make a DISCLAIMER: sometimes you outgrow bathing suits though... or they get ruined in the wash
WHAT??: Ok i have to stop…I’m killing myself.
RockerGirl: You are really funny
WHAT??: Wow im like the advice guru right now
WHAT??: Now... if only i could listen to my own advice
RockerGirl: haha...me too
WHAT??: hahah
WHAT??: Ok... I'm going to bed now.. I have to go to to work at the CRACK cause someone is an idiot...
RockerGirl: lol..ok...i'm going to watch ER and get ready for bed
RockerGirl: See you tomorrow
WHAT??: Nighty night

Geography, The Deal Breaker

2006-01-18T17:08:00.000-08:00

Here is an interesting email that I found today while perusing my sent file. I find it amusing to re-read old emails, as if I have nothing else to do.

Thought this was a goodie for today given the recent events...

To: Vern
From: What??
Date: May 3rd, 2005

SO... I have a giant crush on that boy from Las Vegas that I met when I was with the AWFUL giant... we have been emailing and talking on the phone a bit...look at what he sent me the other day...

"You think I actually cared about seeing the band? (not why I went to that show... I had wonder-fun hanging out w/you. You have the best sense of humor ever... oh and you're really attractive, and intelligent, and I just found out about your daring side. I wasn't aware all that came in a combo package. But then there's one more thing about you - you're only about 2000 miles away.) If you need someone to severely cross the line again just let me know."

Now granted we haven't kissed or anything yet so I don't know, he could be an awful kisser or something... but already, I could imagine that if he was a good kisser I would put my boy toys aside for him and he would be my only one.

Interesting that it was the "one more thing" that ruined us. Damn geography!

The Sky Is Falling

2006-01-17T17:44:00.000-08:00

So, tonight as I sat with my ass on the couch, my creativity was inspired. Or well, should I say, my creativity was slapped upside the head. Yes, chicken little, the sky is in fact falling. Or well, actually its my smoke detector that is falling... falling on my head. Which means in What?? land that it must be time to start blogging again.

I feel the need to explain why I took such a long break from good old blog land. I would like to say that I awoke from a long slumber which is why I haven't posted in a while, but the truth is that I had a boyfriend. I was THAT girl, the one that gets a boyfriend and abandons her friends, ok not really, but I did abandon my blog. Seriously people, what was I going to write about? I mean I am a tremendous girlfriend and all, lingerie, home cooked meals, but is that really fun to read? NO!!! But at last all of my 8 readers can exhale and start reading my blog cause he is no more (see Vegas, I told you I would blog about you), but I won't write anything bad about him cause there is nothing bad to say. And yes, we are still friends, and double yes, he is reading this, I am sure.

So, on to some kind of point. Nope, no point today. Too bad for you.

DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR

2005-04-10T22:21:00.000-07:00

Here is a little known fact about me. Well, ok my six loyal readers know this but I am hoping that some other people might have stumbled upon my blog and then yes, this will be a little known fact to you. I was once upon a time, an acclaimed equestrian. Yes, little me of disastrous dates and current cube dweller, once was a household name in the equestrian world. I actually hold the record for number of national championships won in a row and have more World Championship medals than any other woman in the world. Not to toot my own horn or anything. On my friendster profile, I tell people that I was born into a family of circus riders and spent my childhood dancing in a pink tutu on the back of a black stallion under the big top, which, in hind sight, isn't really that far off from what I was really doing did but when I meet people in person it often disappoints them that I didn't live with my family in a gypsy caravan and travel around with lions and tigers. But I digress, In reality, my sport is a little known one here in the US, and thus lends itself to the "real rules of sport", play fair and everyone is equal. Yes, equal, even the champions.

We used to travel around the country making appearances at equestrian festivals and shows to promote our weird quasi equestrian hybrid sport and the official federation would ask me to attend as the current champion. I would always oblige because I took my accomplishments very seriously and considered it my obligation to promote the growth of this bizarro hobby, upon my arrival however, they would go through every hoop and fence to make sure that I was given no special treatment. When I would go on these trips I would try to do things in my control to set me apart from the others without causing too much distraction. We had required uniforms that we had to wear that was accessorized with a scrunchy. I was NEVER a scrunchy girl, in fact if there was one invention that I could abolish from this earth, it would be a scrunchie. Who invented that horrific thing? And remember the ones that were bigger than your head? Oh geez, fashion disaster right there. Back to business though.

Upon arrival at the appearance I would graciously accept the proposed uniform but just before the performance I would switch the scrunchie for my "signature" ribbons or flowers (whichever I was using at the time) to set me apart from the others. Someone would always catch me just at the gate before entry and tell me that I was supposed to be wearing my scrunchie and I would always reply, "oh I don't wear scrunchies, its not my image." I would get away with it every time, so that it became known that I refused to wear scrunchies. I would try to do other things to set me apart as well. I would always make a HUGE deal about my eating habits and workout schedule. I would accept the invitation to make an appearance upon the agreement that I would be fed properly (salads and protein only) and that I could not possibly skip a workout, the organizers would have to find me a gym near by and drop me and my training partner off at the gym so as not to disrupt my training pattern. I know by all means that missing one or two workouts wouldn't change a thing but I had to set myself apart in any way I knew how.

So, although I am a working girl in the real world now, I still have to do appearances from time to time, I am on my way to one of these appearances right now. They still like to use my name to get into a certain events and I have to attend and smile and wave and act like I am a trainer now, passing on my wealth of knowledge of the sport or sometimes even do a mini performance. This time, I was thinking that if they make me wear the "prescribed" trainer uniform I would not, under any circumstances, wear it and it reminded me of the days past. In fact I realized that my demands were in fact the early days of a ryder. Now that I work in the big exciting entertainment world I have seen some ryders and boy are some of them ridiculous. I need 12 vanilla candles, a bottle of jaeger and a case of corona; this is a ryder of one rock band. You guys are a ROCK band what do you need vanilla candles for? Just because Lenny Kravitz has his own scented candles doesn't mean that you need to have them too. Which got me to thinking of what my ryder would be if I were actually famous and didn't just have delusions of grandeur.

Ryder of What??

For all appearances the following procedures must be followed.

Black car service to and from the airport - I don't mind shlepping my bags around myself and traveling amongst the people. I enjoy people watching in airports but please reduce my stress by having a car waiting to pick me up and drop me off so that I don't have to deal with looking for a cab and remembering directions.

Hotel with internet connection - If I have to travel to these god awful locations to do these things please don't expect me to socialize all night long about the days gone by in the big top. I want privacy and I want to be able to surf the net.

A case of volvic water - I don't care what you say, water does taste different. I have traveled the world far and wide and I prefer volvic. I know the name is a bit obscene but it is the water that tastes the closest to my parents at home.

Dressing room filled with lily's - Please have my room filled with lily's at all times. I love the way they smell and they make me very very happy.

Truffet cookies - I have no idea who makes these cookies but they sell them across the street from my apartment at the bodega and boy are they good.

No scrunchies - I will not wear any sort of scrunchie at any time during my appearance, please do not try to disguise it with ribbons hanging off or anything. I will style my own hair and do it as I please.

Yes, I think that about covers it. I'm not really a very demanding person, there are really very few things that I need or that I can't live without. If I were building an entourage though, that would be a different story. Even back in my day I had an entourage. So this would be my current entourage.

The following people must be present for What??, at all times.

Make-up Artist - my friend MK will accompany me to all appearances to make me look beautiful.

chiropractor - long time chiropractor LC will be ever present.

Photographer - Vern will accompany me everywhere, even if he has to knit the whole time and stand up every 3 seconds to keep his foot from turning blue because of his back problem and doesn't take a single photo. (Which by the way will be tended to by my ever present chiropractor.)

Publicist - I have yet to hire this person so if you would like to apply for this position please submit your resume in the "comments" section at the bottom of this posting.

Legal Council - EG is required to tour with me to make sure that if I am involved in any international scandal she can save me from going to jail like Bridget Jones in the horrific sequel.

Producer/Shrink - You know who you are, you don't have to come on tour with me, but if I could get a hotline to you that would be really cool. THANKS for always being there for me.

Partners in crime - I understand that my friends might actually have lives of their own so they can rotate during my tour depending on their schedules...K-Mac, Hymanator, Seth, Lu and Sandy please speak with my publicist to let them know of your availability to attend my delusions of grandeur tour.

I think that about covers it. I have to go to my appearance now, the equestrian arena is announcing me. AND no, I was not picked up in a black town car, I do not have my own hotel room with internet and five minutes ago they offered me a scrunchie.

Think About It, You Just Aren't That Into Him Either

2005-03-15T23:21:00.000-08:00

I was browsing in Urban Outfitters the other day on my way home from work and I came across an interesting book. It was called, "Face it, you are just not that into him either." Finally, a rebuttal to the worlds worst writteb book ever! I have heard more than enough about the genius book based off the Sex in the City episode where Miranda discovers the answer to why men aren't calling her. They just aren't that into you. I completely disagree with this book; relationships just aren't that black and white. There are always underlying issues.

Take for example this punk rock boy that was always very friendly to me. We met and hit it off. I invited him out for drinks and we had a great time, I tried to continue the date but he had to catch the bus home to New Jersey. I figured that he wasn't interested and planned to move on. After that he continued to instant message me all the time, however, when I would invite him out for activities he would decline. I finally chalked it up to him being not that interested in me and really moved on. Finally after a year, he admitted to me that he had a girlfriend. Out of curiosity I asked him how long they had been together and he said a year. He then said that he had just started to date her when we were hanging out and he wasn't really sure where things were going so he didn't want to start something with me. See! He was into me but he was a nice guy and didn't want to date two girls at one time.

I think that timing is nearly the number one factor in dating. Even if you have the strongest attraction for someone, if it isn't the right time it's never going to work. This leads me to my greatest find. I found a book called "Face it, you're just not that into him either, seriously it's so true, especially in New York. I'm not telling you that it requires a book to make things work but with all of the bullshit we are faced today it's easy to forget that you do deserve a guy that you are happy with. Not Mr. Right Now, or Mr. I'm trying to forget about that asshole, or Mr. I'm proving a point that I can do what I want when I want. But Mr. Right. Mr. I'm supportive of your career and Mr. I think you are sexy even when you are randomly crying.

Take the Giant for example. I went on a mini break with him last weekend. When people asked me how it was when I got back, I replied it was nice, or we had a good time. There were NO fireworks the whole weekend. First of all the night before we left, he called me drunk, concerned that I was taking him for a fool and wasn't even going to show up at all! That already put me on the edge. Then he was pretty anti-social when I introduced him to some people that I knew. And lastly, I still wouldn't sleep with him. He was fabulous for going out to dinner with, or snuggling up in bed or lying by the pool. Yes, those were the things he was good at. But he never really asked me any questions about my past or my family or my career; I asked him lots of questions. Since we have been back he has been surprisingly distant and suddenly I REALLY like him! After skimming the book, it came to my attention that I fall into the "I'm really not into him either but I need for him to like me" chapter. This, the author explains is a sign of an over dater. I date so many boys because I have a need for attention. ME?? Never, kidding, I'm totally aware that I am an attention whore. People sometimes accuse me of looking for a boyfriend and I always get offended because I am never looking; I am just open to social interaction because I love attention. I like meeting new people, the author pointed out that attention cravers never really open themselves up to the possibility of a relationship because by this constant flirtation you don't ever really get to know anyone. Now don't get me wrong, I don't think you need this book either to survive but it does tell you some things that we all know but sometimes forget to remember.

So although the book didn't really solve my problem of the Giant, I still feel sad that he doesn't seem to like me, but I will have to be ok with it, I will stop playing the chase it down game and move on.

Ridiculously Obvious Observations from 32,000 ft.

2005-03-08T00:32:00.000-08:00

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?

The Safety Date

2005-03-01T16:54:00.000-08:00

safety (sAf-t)
n 1: the state of being certain that adverse effects will not be caused by some agent under defined conditions; "insure the safety of the children"; "the reciprocal of safety is risk" [ant: danger] 2: a safe place; "He ran to safety" [syn: refuge] 3: a device designed to prevent injury [syn: guard, safety device] 4: (baseball) the successful act of striking a baseball in such a way that the batter reaches base safely [syn: base hit, bingle] 5: contraceptive device consisting of a thin rubber or latex sheath worn over the penis during intercourse [syn: condom, rubber, safe, prophylactic] 6: a score in American football; a player is tackled behind his own goal line

So a little something that I have discovered in my long detailed study of dating is a thing called "the safety date." This is usually reserved for those dates where you sort of remember the boy at the bar that you gave your number to and aren't sure if you thought he was cute or not and also the dreaded blind date. The safety date usually is centered around a short activity that can have closure at the end and/or an easy escape such as "the early cocktail date" or the "Sunday brunch." These activities can on the other hand be extended if things are going well, for instance, one drink can turn into two which can turn into grabbing a small bit to eat which can turn into stopping by your apartment, well, you get the picture.

The Set Up
So as you can see, there is a trend here, everyone that I know thinks that I should be with someone. So a few months back a girlfriend of mine "H" decided that I should meet her friend because he was from San Francisco as well. We were going to do a casual meeting at a New Year's Party that we were both attending but I got too drunk and ended up karyokying late into the night. So finally "H" decided to streamline the process by directing her friend to check me out on my friendster profile. That way if he liked what he saw he could friendster me and she would be out of the loop. After the initial friendster introduction and a few emails back and forth, I felt like the boy might be witty and I should at least meet him in person. He was after all a Cali boy so that won him a few extra points. Now don't get me wrong, I am not closed minded toward boys that come from other states but I do find repeatedly that boys from California tend to be a little bit more open minded about independent women. They likely grew up with a liberal mother who taught them at a young age to appreciate women with drive and ambition and they are therefore more accepting of my tendency to be overly busy and wanting to conquer the world. Which leads me to thsafetyafty date.

After a week or so of playing phone tag with this boy I was about ready to throw in the hat but apparently he had been traveling and busy as well so I decided to give it one more chance. He called me on my work line on a Friday at work. I was somewhat caught off guard by this office phone call since I hadn't personally given him my office number but hadunwillingailing him from my office email so he got it off of there. I guess, indirectly I gave him my work number. I let that one slide. After asking me if this was an ok time to talk, which I gave him a few extra kudos points for he then launched into a full blown social conversation, given that I reside in cube land at work and I had about 8 curious ears peaking towards my conversation I was a little bit uncomfortable. I managed to keep things light and not too personal focused on the phone due to my lack of privacy, and then a fun game I like to play when I meet people that I don't really know and don't yet have a vested interest in is to be as wacky as possible. I do have a very wacky side and I like to test out in the beginning if they will withstand it or not. I think it is a quick and easy way to get to know someone, by testing their tolerance levels. When this young man asked me to meet, I asked him when, and he responded how about drinks tonight? I was taken aback, how could he dare to ask me out on a night time first date with no notice. I usually am not a stickler for "the rules" of dating but for some reason I felt that this was presumptuous that he asked me out on a Friday night like I might not have anything else to do. I told him that I was previously engaged (total lie). He said that he had friends in town sat night so I suggested Sunday and he responded with brunch? I told him that I would meet him for pancakes at 5 pm. Pancakes at 5 pm he asked? Why? I told him that's just how I do it. And I chose 5 because I think that is the latest you can get breakfast in New York. So it was set. He offered to call and confirm early in the day on Sunday but I said we should just do the old fashioned way and met on Sunday, no intermediary confirmation call.

Pancakes at 5

So I did receive an intermediary call, he was running 10 minutes late. I met him in front of 7a at 510 and we proceeded inside. We had to rush to order breakfast because they were closing the breakfast menu. I opted for chicken and mashed potatoes, after all of the hullabaloo; I wasn't in the mood for pancakes. He was a little disappointed that I didn't want breakfast and went for the breakfast burrito. First off he declared that he might walk out if they didn't serve him breakfast. I hate that. Then he was disappointed in the fact that I wasn't really in the circus and just used to do gymnastics on horses. We had a few drinks; the conversation was ok so we decided to extend the date to another location. We went to 7B and have a drink. During the second drink we were joking and telling stories, it seemed to be going well. I excused myself to use the ladies room and while I was in there I checked my messages. Nothing exciting, a few girls going out later that I could or could not join if I wanted to. I returned to the table and the conversation took a dive. I tried to start back up but he wasn't really that talkative. Then he told me that he didn't want to be rude but he had to check his messages. Weird, if you don't want to be rude then go to the bathroom and check them, or don't check them at all! He checked, according to him it was just his mom. He then asked me if I wanted another drink but I wasn't feeling it so we decided to leave. We then got to that awkward moment at my front door, he gave me a strained hug and then we just stared at each other. He said "well I had a nice time, we will be in touch" I said sure, though I was positive that was the last I would hear from him. Then he turned to walk off and said "take care!"

WHAT?? TAKE CARE?? Who says that? That is worse than saying thanks for calling when you call someone. I can't believe it. I was funny and engaging during the date. What was he thinking? He wasn't even that cute!

In the subsequent days, I sent him an email saying that I had a nice time, thanks for the date. It was the least I could do since we had a mutual friend and could end up at the same function sometime. Better to keep it friendly. I received an email saying that he was out of town and that he would be in touch when he got back but I never heard from him again. And im fine with that. See you are still at risk even if you are on a safety date.

ADDENDUM: So I just have to add that nearly a year later I ran into this dude on the subway. Apparently I moved into his neighborhood. So out of fear of looking like an idiot if I didn't say hi and he saw me, I did the polite thing and said hello. Well, it couldn't have been more awkward. For one LONG subway stop we were forced to have polite conversation where he even informed me that he worked up on 57th street. At the very next stop he got off to change trains at a stop where you couldn't change trains!! Who knew that I was such a bad date that a year later I could scare someone off a train.

Ridiculously Obvious Observations and Other Random Things to Ponder

2005-02-26T16:37:00.000-08:00

"Freezing Your Ass Off"

Could someone please tell me where this phrase came from? I can tell you from my recent winter experiences that the direct translation of this just doesn't hold true. I believe that this phrase translates to, "if you are standing in the cold you will in fact get a smaller ass." Nope, not a chance, well, at least not for me. I guess that if you actually stood outside for long enough then it might happen because your body has to work harder to stay warm? Well maybe back in the good ole days but not today. It gets cold and I am racing inside to find somewhere warm and once I get there, not a chance of me leaving. The only thing that is working harder is my arm as it shovels comfort foods like mashed potatoes, pasta and chocolate cake into my mouth. In fact, I can now prove the colder the temperatures drop in NYC the larger my ass becomes! So if you will excuse me, I am going to try my new diet technique out, if you need me I will be standing outside "freezing my ass off!"

"Pennies Not Accepted Here"

Now this is just plain crazy talk! Who doesn't accept pennies? I can understand those establishments that don't accept American Express, but pennies? Come on! Here I am in my favorite coffee shop The Bourgeois Pig and I overhear the owner say, "We don't accept pennies here," are they just to bourgeois to accept them? Since when did the penny lose its status? I mean it is the lowest valued coin but there seems to be something very American about it. After, which coin is it that brings you luck if you find it heads up in the street? Yes, the penny. So all penny lovers please unite and storm The Bourgeois Pig with only pennies for your daily cup of Joe.

Rants and Raves

2005-02-21T19:19:00.000-08:00

First off, I just want to appoligize for not posting in so long, I promise that I will be putting a lot of stuff up soon for you all to read.

Second, I would like to welcome my sixth reader K-Mac, she's keepin it real out there in SF!

So here are my rants and raves for today.

Rants:

Lines at the gym: Let’s start here shall we? When you go to the gym, you go to workout. You do not go to stand in a line between working out, that pretty much defeats the purpose.

Whiny debutant types at the salon: So I went for a mani, pedi on Saturday and I do have to say that my relaxation time was not well spent. I spent the entire time trying to zone out three debutant types that were all apparently planning weddings and have a lot of drama in their lives. Please, I understand that you have gossip to catch up on but does it really have to be shouted back and forth across the entire SALON and disrupt my quiet time??

People afflicted with the “busy” disease: Ok people, lets get this straight – we all live in NYC and we are all busy, that is a given. Being busy is not a disease, it doesn’t just happen to you, and it’s a choice. Yes, that may come as a surprise but you are choosing to be busy, please stop blaming your lack of time for other activities on being busy, be honest, you don’t want to do the “said” activity - ‘nough said.

Raves:

Galoshes: Can I just say that I love galoshes? Not the trendy kind that have prints all over them that are supposedly cool but the real ugly kind that are meant for tromping through mud and snow and rain! And, not only are they cool cause they make you feel like jumping in puddles like you are 10 again but the word itself is so fun to say…. Come on y’all say it with me… GALOSHES!!

Running down the middle of a car-less avenue: Its very liberating to run down the middle of the street. I know its not real dangerous since there are no cars but you still have a strange sense of accomplishment while you are doing this, like you shouldn’t really be there… try it sometime, you will like it.

Cupcakes: There is something about cupcakes that makes you feel like a kid. I would have to say that my experience at Magnolia’s bakery was not very child like and I wouldn’t include it as part of my rave experience… but licking the icing off your fingers after eating the whole thing in less than three bites? If that doesn’t take you back to your childhood, I don’t know what will.

Birthdays: I love birthdays, there is nothing like treating yourself a little special and surrounding yourself with your friends (oh and buying a new pair of shoes) cause you survived another year.

The "Make Good" Date

2005-02-07T21:05:00.000-08:00

Summary: Make goods are revisions to existing billed media buys on broadcast orders. They occur when a media buyer has to adjust the number of spots, the net cost, or gross amount on an existing broadcast order that has already been billed.

The Make Good Date is the newest phenomenon in New York dating, previously referred to as a “rain check,” New York’s media heavy community has replaced this term with “make good” as it more clearly represents the action that is taking place. You are making good on your obligation to another party.

The Set Up - I was recently set up with a fellow that works in a sister division of my corporation. A friend thought that we might hit it off and suggested that we meet up for a drink. I abhor set ups and so several times, I politely declined. After several attempts to get us together this said friend took matters into her own hands and invited the both of us out on the town on a group date. The conversation was decent but not brilliant so when the lad contacted me for a one-on-one date I reluctantly agreed. This is what I would call a “courtesy date” one where there are friends of friends involved and you can’t just be rude and flat out decline. He of course chose a Friday night when I would have much preferred lounging at the French restaurant amongst friends or just plain old crashing out on the couch, so when a friend told me she might be in the city on Friday night I seized the opportunity to tell the boy that I needed to reschedule. He quickly launched into a tirade about how he hates busy people and really doesn’t choose to associate himself with those kinds of people. I thought to myself that I was off the hook! I never had to hang out with this sarcastic self-indulgent male again! But no, he reported that I was going to hold me to my offer to “make good” on our date the next week.

The Make Good - Come Monday, I did my due diligence and offered for him to accompany me to see a friends band play but he was busy so then I asked him for Thursday night and again he was busy. Once again, I was free of all responsibility, I offered, it didn’t work out and I was off the hook. When hump day rolled around I was pleased as punch to hit the gym and then head home at the end of the long day. I was IM-attacked by the self-righteous lad and he told me that I told him that we were hanging out on Wednesday! Excuse me? I don’t think so, but due to the “make good” policy I had to oblige! There was no getting out of this one.

The Awful Experience - We met downstairs in the lobby of our office building and headed out the door. I was in a foul mood that day anyway and really had a low tolerance for his sarcasm; the first five minutes of conversation were painful at best! First, we headed out to the uber-hip rock bar snitch where upon sitting down in a completely empty venue we were told that they were about to have a jewelry show and that we needed to leave. After that we thought we would try the new BLT Fish restaurant, after another 5 block hike during which he proceeded to walk always 3 steps ahead of me and I am “running” to keep up in my 3 inch heels, we find out that the wait is one hour and we decide to head to the east village and visit one of my favorite tapas restaurants Alphabet Kitchen. Once again he heads off 3 steps ahead, never looking to see where I am, I keep throwing out jokes that I should put my running shoes on and he doesn’t even get it. At this point I am ready to throw in the towel but due to the “make good” policy I press on. After 5 minutes waiting for a cab we get to the restaurant. I offer to pay half the cab and he replies “don’t worry I will get it, you can get dinner.” You may laugh right now but I can tell you that he is completely serious. One time he bought me a brownie in our office building but since it was Friday, it was buy one get one free on all pastries, so in fact, he bought me a free brownie and then called me on Tuesday to meet him at the coffee shop cause it was my turn to buy him a brownie.

As we walk into the restaurant immediately I know something is wrong, the friendly owner is not standing guard at the host stand, the hot bartender is not behind the bar waiting to give me my free pino grigio, there is not one person sitting in the restaurant, something is amiss, but, the evening had been a bomb so far so there was no way that we were going to switch restaurants for the third time! We sit down and order up a few things to share. My “date” is turning into a horror story before my very eyes, we try to liven up the conversation, and the lad informs me that we should “dissect” my personality so that he can get to know me better. I am quite certain that today I could not take that and the evening would end in tears. I reply that I am off limits and I get two more topic choices, “past relationships” or “sex.” I opt for the generic sex discussion cause you could at least keep that fairly impersonal. As tapas start rolling out and I discovered that they must have changed owners cause the food looked like it just jumped out of the frozen foods section. Now of course it is my fault that I picked the location, he can’t stop mentioning that the food sucks and that there are no people in the restaurant. After an hour of painful “sex” conversation finally we pay the check. Of course, true to form he passes it over to me and I slap down the whole bill with a grimace, at least then I would have ammunition for when my friend asks why I don’t like him I can say he didn’t even go Dutch for the evening. I am so thankful just to get out of there and go home. I haven’t even been able during this whole experience let my mind wander to think about how much I would rather be hanging out with the French boy because I have remain alert to deflect the ridiculous questions that this fool keeps pelting at me. Finally he takes a look at how much money I put down and he gives me some back. Coyly he says, “why are you paying for it all?” and I reply, “Because you told me that I had to pay cause you got the cab.” Boy did he get a good laugh at my expense on that one.

We walk outside and I am so prepared to say thanks for the nice night and RUN home, but no, he wanted to have another drink next door at HiFi. This date couldn’t get much worse. I never go to the HiFi because my ex in San Francisco owned a bar called HiFi and I am pretty sure that he knows the owner of this bar too, just a little too close for comfort. In we go and the conversation gets a little easier as we have another drink, now I am able to let my mind wander as he leaps up from his seat mid sentence on several occasions to check which song is playing on the juke box, apparently he is some music junkie. The mantra “one drink and you’re home free” keeps running through my head. I am calculating exactly how many sips it will take for him to get to the bottom of his glass, it’s like the tootsie roll commercial but much less fun. I am almost there, just two more regular sips and we are done. As soon as he gets the very last drop of his beer down he looks back and forth at our empty glasses and begins to clear his throat, finally I say “what??” He replies, your turn to buy a round. Is this guy unbelievable? I get up, order him a beer and a soda water for myself, I figure nothing is clearer that you want to go home than when you drink water. The conversation becomes pained as he starts trying to delve into my psyche by asking me what my passions in life are. I resort to the mute tactic. After every question he asks, I just stare blankly in between his eyebrows. Finally he gets the message and says that we should head out.

He walks me all the way to my door and I dreading the awkward goodbye. That passes as he asks if he can come up and use my restroom before he hits the subway, I tell him that just cause he uses my restroom doesn’t mean that its an invite to stay over, he laughs. Finally after he marks territory in my bathroom, he says good bye, I am almost gleeful when he gives me a hug goodnight, there is nothing worse than the “courtesy make out” at the end of the date, but he only wanted a hug, things are looking up! In fact, I believe it was the best part of the evening, he was silent for 10 seconds and I got to be held just for long enough to feel loved. Although I didn’t do it on purpose, I am pretty sure that as I closed the door it slammed him in the ass and I, from inside my apartment, grinned from ear to ear.

ET, ET phone home!

2005-02-06T23:42:00.000-08:00

Hi All,

I am quite sure that you are dying for a new posting, all 5 of my readers, but, let me say that I have some good stuff in store for you! So, my dear friends, please be patient and I will have some stuff up on the blog for you, when I can properly ProofrEAD, because Miss Z at the french bar fed me about 37 glaSSEs of wInE toNightT!

So, bonne nuit a tous!

Bisous,
-What??

Q&A With What??

2005-02-05T23:39:00.000-08:00

In response to "A Strategic Plan for the NYC Dating Scene"

At 4:08 PM, Anonymous said...
But what What??? needs to remember that she must continually load her pipeline...Just because she has 1 suitor currently a good rule of thumb is to have at least 3x in her pipeline in order to increase her chances of connecting with a deal. What is equally important is for What??? to continually be "hunting"/"prospecting" that is the only way that she will have a fully loaded pipeline. Otherwise, her strategy seems to have merit and it will be very interesting on how it all pans out.

Dear Anonymous,

I completely agree with you regarding your "prospecting" proposal. I believe that it is up to you and your business ethics whether you will put multiple clients to bed at the same time. I personally feel that you must do a certain amount of smooching with your prospects to do proper background research and develop a good strategy. In the cluttered NYC dating market it is wise to prospect a minimum 5 clients at one time. This way you can move forward with all of them just prior to the point of "sealing the deal" and then select the strongest candidate!

Please keep me posted on your "prospecting" endeavors.
-What??

In response to "Obsessed"

At 4:13 PM, Anonymous said...
Ok "what?" I have a doozy for you: Men always say they want a girl who is intelligent, motivated, blah, blah, blah.... So why is it when you tell a man that you have an advanced degree and a stable career they say "oh, your too smart for me." Why are men intimidated by smart women?

Dear Anonymous,

Just a second, let me get out my "single and fabulous!" soap box. There I am now ready to preach to you the mantra that has helped me survive dating in NYC. You are single and fabulous exclamation point! [Yes, I am very aware that this is a beyond blatant Sex in the City reference but I just can't avoid it. It is true and we should all be proud that a show was created that we can identify with even though no woman that writes a weekly column could EVER afford an apartment of that size even if it is rent stabilized and buy as many Manolo Blahnik's as Carrie Bradshaw.] So back to my point, you are single and fabulous! Don't you ever forget that. The men that tell you in a bar that they are looking for smart intelligent women are in fact bottom feeders. If they were really looking for smart intelligent women do you think that they would be hanging out at a bar in hopes that a beer goggled girl will fall into their arms? No, they are in a bar because they are looking for the low hanging fruit [see Strategy for Dating posting] and the easy lay, now don't get me wrong, there is a time and a place for everything but if you are looking for true, long lasting can't live with out you love, you are not likely going to find it in a bar. So, when you go to a bar, make sure bring along your single and fabulous soap box, do shots proudly from atop it and then laugh in the bottom feeders faces as you walk arm in arm out the door with your girlfriends, realizing that you are better off for the time being this way.

Cheers to that!
-What??

A Strategic Plan for the NYC Dating Market

2005-01-22T04:25:00.000-08:00

NOTE: The following strategy is not 100% endorsed or recommended by the author as a means to a healthy relationship, those take a long time to be nurtured and grown. This assessment is a satire based on all of the authors ridiculously obvious observations and a few too midnight calls from sobbing girlfriends about “why he didn’t call.”

Dating in NYC is no longer a game. The old cat and mouse rules no longer apply. We women are in a saturated market and need to apply some of the business savvy that we use in the office to our personal lives. The dating market needs to be navigated in the same way that we strategically market products, yes, ladies, we are the product and the men are the client. We must remember

In today's very competitive marketplace a strategy that insures a consistent approach to offering your product or service in a way that will outsell the competition is critical. However, in concert with defining the marketing strategy you must also have a well-defined methodology for the day-to-day process of implementing it. It is of little value to have a strategy if you lack either the resources or the expertise to implement it.

The Dating Landscape

It is a well-known fact that there are more women than men in New York City; we spend countless hours wondering why they do not call us back or why they won’t just commit? The answer is simple, men have too many options and they are unwilling to put forth any effort to get what they want. In a nutshell, they are willing to go for the low hanging fruit knowing that they can easily trade up at a later date. In such a market a Differentiation Strategy is recommended, to set yourself apart from the competitors in the market.

A DIFFERENTIATION STRATEGY is one of creating a product or service that is perceived as being unique "throughout the industry". The emphasis can be on brand image, proprietary technology, special features, superior service, a strong distributor network or other aspects that might be specific to your industry. This uniqueness should also translate to profit margins that are higher than the industry average. In addition, some of the conditions that should exist to support a differentiation strategy include strong marketing abilities, effective product engineering, creative personnel, the ability to perform basic research and a good reputation.

If in fact the differentiation strategy is achieved your product will experience the high profit margins, more dates. Let’s begin with a quick overview of the dating market.

Product Analysis

In marketing any new product a simple SWOT analysis is helpful in determine your strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats.

SWOT Analysis is a very effective way of identifying your Strengths and Weaknesses, and of examining the Opportunities and Threats you face. Carrying out an analysis using the SWOT framework helps you to focus your activities into areas where you are strong and where the greatest opportunities lie.

By determining these factors you can then easily differentiate your product to the prospective client.

Sample Analysis: What??

Strengths: Funny, Smart, Independent, Unique style and Nice Rack
Weakness: Likes quality dates, nice dinners and movies
Opportunities: Not “looking” for a boyfriend
Threats: Uncontrollable need to tell men what she “thinks”

After careful analysis of what??, in order to differentiate herself, she should rely heavily that she is not “looking” for a boyfriend at this time, this will allow her to maneuver freely throughout the market potentially pitching multiple clients at one time, this will create a certain “demand” for her product creating a perceived “must have” value in the market place. Another differentiation tactic that she should utilize is her independence, she can position this to the client as a positive attribute of the product however understanding the clients need to show off and take care of things this quality will over a short time serve as the closing element of the deal.

Client Analysis

Before going into any meeting you must understand your clients needs. Lets take a quick moment to assess his pros and con’s.

It is essential to understand the market segment(s) as defined by the clients characteristics you have selected as the target for your offering. Factors to consider include:

The potential for market penetration involves whether you are selling to past customers or a new prospect, how aware the prospects are of what you are offering, competition, growth rate of the industry and demographics.

The prospect's willingness to pay higher price because you’re offering provides a better solution to their problem.

The amount of time it will take the prospect to make a purchase decision is affected by the prospects confidence in your offering, the number and quality of competitive offerings, the number of people involved in the decision, the urgency of the need for your offering and the risk involved in making the purchase decision.

The prospect's willingness to pay for product value is determined by their knowledge of competitive pricing, their ability to pay and their need for characteristics such as quality, durability, reliability, ease of use, uniformity and dependability.

Likelihood of adoption by the prospect is based on the criticality of the prospect's need, their attitude about change, the significance of the benefits, barriers that exist to incorporating the offering into daily usage and the credibility of the offering.

Sample Analysis: Actor Man

Background: What?? met the actor man at an event that she was attending. She learned from others that he was a highly successful actor and was currently working on several Broadway productions. They were introduced and then engaged in idle banter next to the crudités and dip, it became clear to her that there was an obvious interest when he told her about his recent breakup. Idle banter is a great way for feeling out the client, in doing this What?? learned several helpful bits of information. Currently he was single (2 months broken up), residing in NYC only until the summer, working on a new Broadway play, loves France and very into working out. He invited What?? to come and see his new show and they exchanged emails.

After reviewing the facts What?? has determined:
1. The actor man would be looking for a product that would provide some short-term companionship during his stay in New York City.
2. Given his profession he is likely to be very busy.
3. The actor man is very serious and finds What?? to be funny and was very interested by her experiences in Paris.

Strategic Plan: What?? will proceed with her differentiation strategy by showcasing her independence and flirty whim to grab his attention.

Stay tuned for the results of this campaign…

Obsessed!

2005-01-21T07:07:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I've never been addicted to anything before, but I am beginning to think that I might be addicted to blogging. I find myself with a running blog commentary going through my head as I walk around town. Who do I think I am? Carrie Bradshaw who needs a voice-over to narrarate her life? [I apologize for the blatant Sex in the City reference, I really tried to hold back, I mean I have been blogging for a whole week now and haven't done one! And, I do have to point out that someone posted one in a comment before I did this one! So there...] Anyway, the one thing though that my blog is missing is some interaction with my readers (you know, all 5 of you...).

So I just wanted to put that out there, that I WELCOME your questions and comments. I don't pretend to be an expert on anything except stating the complete obvious!

Talk soon!

The Daily Gossip

2005-01-18T22:29:00.000-08:00

This conversation was taken directly from an IM between me, What?? and my friend OfficeGirl.

OfficeGirl: Tee hee....so..... let’s talk about Brazilian boy
OfficeGirl: Is he dark and handsome?
What??: um...
What??: he is a little young, 25
OfficeGirl: did the French waiter call?
What??: NO! OfficeGirl: are you 30?
What??: 28
What??: but the Brazilian boy is funny very boyish like he was totally flirting with other girls when we were at the club
OfficeGirl: so he's not so much younger ...it's funny how that changes once you exceed 30 What??: actually he kissed another girl at the club
What??: but then he just sent her packing
OfficeGirl: hmmm....that is a bit strange but....
What??: and from the second I met him he was like you are beautiful.... you have a nice neck What??: let me get your coat for you...
What??: and then he would button it all the way up
OfficeGirl: lol- nice neck? that's so funny and he had to button you up to protect the neck of course
What??: and then it was snowing and he was like... hold on to me... don’t ruin your shoes OfficeGirl: omg - you're killing me with the snow part
What??: and I had on this long sleeve shirt that would fall of the shoulder and he was like you have great shoulders
OfficeGirl: I think if it's snowing and I'm standing with a male, no matter what, I could fall in love with that male
What??: seriously
OfficeGirl: you're cracking me up
What??: I totally thought I was “in love” with this boy when he slept over
What??: like we were kissing and it was a really good kiss.. you know the kind where you kind of breathe the same breath!
What??: and he was just staring at me in the dark
OfficeGirl: OMG!
What??: and not trying to "get something" from me...
What??: I was so in love with him
OfficeGirl: are you making this up? You’re kidding me!
What??: and then I woke up... and he was trying to stick his tongue in my ear (sooooo 25 year old manuver) and the kissing was BAD
What??: and I was like its time for you to GO HOME!!
OfficeGirl: SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHING HALT?
What??: yes
What??: seriously
OfficeGirl: darnit....
What??: what happened?? All of a sudden it was like the spell was over
OfficeGirl: okay, next… so what up with seersucker pants boy?
What??: I know! Seersucker pants boy texted me 3 times last week but then on Sunday when I texted him back he didn’t respond... of course
OfficeGirl: I would like to inside the brain of seersucker boy
OfficeGirl: very odd
OfficeGirl: but cute
What??: yes very odd
What??: I think seersucker pants boy is very insecure young man and he uses that as protection... you know controlling the meetings...
What??: why isn’t that French boy calling me !!!
OfficeGirl: it's like my friend Lorraine was talking about setting me up with her postman...and I was like NO! he's prob such a loser - he's a postman...and then she was like....but he is so nice and he's always so nice to the children....and then I was all mixed up about what kind of guy I'm looking for!
OfficeGirl: or think I’m looking for
What??: I know right??
What??: I am definitely in the "fun" boat right now... but sometimes I meet boys that I think... I wish I could meet you in 5 years when I know I am ready for a husband you know?
OfficeGirl:If French boy doesn't call you - that's weirdness, esp after he kissed you four times!
What??: my idea of a BOYFRIEND and HUSBAND are very different
What??: I know! if he doesn’t call then it just goes to show you that I should stay away from the artsy types (esp the ones that work in the resto biz)
What??: but then I get nervous that he didn’t call cause he saw me leave with Drigo or something
OfficeGirl: really? That sounds healthy - maybe I should try it to make sure I'm not trying to force the husband thing
What??: I don’t know
What??: I feel like I cheated on him and we aren't even talking yet!!!
OfficeGirl: ur 2 funny...
OfficeGirl: CHEATER
What??: I’m not a cheater!! I swear!!
What??: wait, I did once and it was SO yucky...
OfficeGirl: cheaters never prosper
OfficeGirl: just kidding
What??: When I was 19 I had one boyfriend in France and I hadn’t really broken up with the American one yet
What??: oops
What??: anywhoo i totally learned my lesson cause I ended up hurting the American boy and he didn’t deserve that. It was then that I vowed to always be honest.
OfficeGirl: wait, didn't you leave with a group?
What??: no I just left with Drigo but the place was packed, I don’t know if he saw
What??: so I have no idea
OfficeGirl: so can you speak French?
What??: yes but badly OfficeGirl: cool
What??: so when I gave him my number he told me in French that he would call me yesterday and that we could see about meeting up
What??: and I was like totally!
What??: but no... no call
What??: crap crap crap! I will have to go and hang out there I guess later in the week you know to make sure nothings wrong
OfficeGirl: sounds like a good idea - maybe he is being shy?
What??: yea... I think he is pretty shy... but seriously I gave him the number... and he gave me 4 kisses!!
What??: hellloooo!

Nothin But Trouble

2005-01-17T00:23:00.000-08:00

So it turns out that the girls had other plans that I didn’t know about. We had arranged to meet at my new self proclaimed “living room” a lovely French joint where I seem to be hanging out a little too much. One can always tell in a foreign establishment when they have made it to “regular” status, that is when they receive kisses upon entry and exit and yes, boy have I made it! Anyway, I’m waiting at the bar, all alone (good thing that I hang out alone all the time so this isn’t really that bad) and I find that one girlfriend is on her way but very late and the other thought she cancelled on me via text (more on this later) and wouldn’t be attending. So, I find myself chillin with the lovely French bartendress Miss Z who has this fabulous way of filling my glass when I’m not looking to insure that I stay there a looooooooong time. Which is quite good since I have also developed a big crush on this boy that works there, I like to call him the “French Waiter.” He always is giving me a million kisses and stopping off by my bar stool to have mini conversations with me, I figured that tonight was the night that I should invite him to do something outside the bar, so I asked him if he wanted to go see a friend play at the Mercury Lounge on Tuesday. He said he would love to but he had to see about another tentative plan and that we should exchange numbers. Yes! I am getting French digits!

When Sandy finally arrived I introduced her to my new best friend Drigo, a fun Brazilian who was “taken” but loved making new friends. After who knows how many glasses of wine and fun conversation Sandy excused herself to go meet the boy of the moment while I invited myself to go dancing with Drigo and his friend, since he had already spend the whole night telling us about his girlfriend I figured he was pretty much be harmless. On the way out I said bye to the French Waiter and gave him my number to call me about Tuesday, after four kisses, yes two on each check and a nice waist squeeze and his assurance that he would call me tomorrow, I was out the door!

Fast forward through hours and hours of salsa dancing with Drigo and his friend the typical “Brazilian Boy” who was flirting with everyone that entered the room. Finally after I was tuckered out and had established myself as the cool girl with the two boys, I asked that they take me home. And since my roommate was out of town I decided it was the perfect opportunity to have a mini after party so, I invited them back to my apartment for some snacks. When we got to my apartment, the Brazilian Boy quickly offered to take care of my tired feet with a much appreciated foot rub, that was nice of him… could I be any more naïve? Probably, Drigo finally excused himself and the Brazilian Boy asked if he could stay over. I wanted to say no but the thought of snuggling with this handsome devil on my day off was far too powerful. So, yes, I let him, but I informed him that, “I'm not having sex with you,” he agreed to my terms and we climbed into bed.

Catching Up

2005-01-16T18:22:00.000-08:00

First of all, let me tell you that if I did indeed see any benefits from my crash diet last week, it was all reversed by the one million glasses of bad pinot grigio and the extra large pork chop that I had the night before having to squeeze into said mini cocktail dress. I did, in fact, resemble Betty Boop or maybe even J-Lo, I don’t know which but I am sure that my ass size rivaled theirs at the banquet. Which then prompted a lot of naughty comments by balding older gentlemen that were also attending this stuffy banquet – enough said.

Second, I am so very pleased to return to the big apple on this Sunday morning and am ready for a fabulous mellow girl’s night out tonight. There is really no other place like New York City!

Disconnected

2005-01-14T21:21:00.000-08:00

So apparently my super high class historic hotel in Louisville, KY does not believe in high speed internet access. I am currently, disconnected. I feel so lost, so out of touch, so vulnerable! No AIM, no blogging, no email to see if I have been slammed with work since I’m not in the office today. What’s a girl to do? Yes, you are right. Take a nap… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

The Anti-Christ

2005-01-13T23:20:00.000-08:00

So here I am, on my way to the stuffy banquet in Louisville, KY and stuck in airport hell, LaGuardia on a foggy night, every flight is delayed and there are a million people hanging out at the bar, including myself, who is chowing down on the worlds worst chicken quesadilla ever, which, I am certain is not part of the crash diet plan. Now I don’t really know if my crash diet worked or not; I feel maybe a pound or two lighter, hopefully it will be enough to slither my way into this very snug black satin number that I am supposed to wear, but I do know that I am currently sitting next to the anti-Christ. I am quite sure that whoever you are thinking of right now is not who is actually sitting next to me. I am sitting, smack dab next to a perky, as if she’s had more than her fill of coffee today, Starbucks district manager. Yes, I think that Starbucks is, in fact, the anti-Christ. I mean, don’t get me wrong, who doesn’t love an orange coffee mocha frappuccino (yes people, but that was a Zoolander reference) but do they really have to be on every freaking corner? Blame my psudo hippie upbringing in NorCal but I love the beatnik coffee shop. I love the stragglers, the musicians, the poets that hang, I love the unruly punk kids that always seem to run the joint. Starbucks is now indicative with this “I’ve got it all together look so I must top that off with a coffee.” Look at how many celebrities always top their haute couture off with a paper cup from the coffee joint that’s taking over the world. Recently I heard that Paris Hilton will never be seen wearing black but she will pose with a Starbucks cup in her hand?

The worst part about this scenario is that I’m not even talking to this hyper perky woman, but I can more than hear her every word. She’s touting this new product and that new product. This amazes me on several levels. 1. That people through means of technology have become so accustomed to talking that they actually can’t ever be alone. Every person sitting at this bar is either engaged in idle conversation with fellow strangers or are talking on their cell phone and 2. It occurs to me that the first thing that people talk about is their work, like it is their being. Ever notice how the first thing someone asks you in the city is “what do you do?” That is the conversation that I avoid like the plague, I can’t do that corporate bullshit. Wow, I must be really self indulgent because I usually just want to talk about myself.

Is Stating The Obvious Really So Bad?

2005-01-12T21:02:00.000-08:00

I really had no intention of starting a blog today. I only stumbled upon this blog site because I was googling Taye Diggs wife Idina Menzel who fell through a trap door on the stage of “Wicked.” What is with all of the freaky trap door accidents of late? First of all, how long have they been doing this Broadway stuff, haven’t they mastered the trap door by now? And second, who knew being a Broadway star was so dangerous? Wait, I digress, back to my accidental blog. I figured that the site looked pretty cool so I would check out how it all works. I embarked on setting up a ‘fake’ blog, hence the blog name “Green Tea Makes You Pee,” and with one last click, low and behold it was up and running! I actually wanted to call it, “Green Tea Makes You Pee and Other Ridiculously Obvious Observations” because one of my favorite past times is pointing out the obvious, but that title wouldn’t fit in the small box that was provided. People always avoid pointing out the obvious but really sometimes it is very helpful. Take for instance today, I am on a crash diet this week due to the fact that I have to squeeze my “winterized” body into a small black cocktail dress this weekend for some stuffy banquet I have to attend, so I thought that I would drink some green tea which I have been told boosts your metabolism! NO ONE ever mentioned that it also makes you pee more than regular tea, something that I would have, quite frankly, liked to know before I got on the train this morning. AND, apparently EVERYONE knows that it makes you pee more, cause I mentioned to a handful of girlfriends that I accidentally named my blog this and they both exclaimed “but it does!” As if I was trying to disprove this fact! All the more reason to state the obvious, because sometimes, though you may think that everyone knows, they probably don’t.

One more obvious comment for the day, and then I have to go back to doing some serious “Integrated Marketing” which is what I do all day long. When I was setting up my ‘fake’ blog I listed my posting name as What? because I didn’t realize that I was really starting a blog, so for the time being I am going to remain anonymous although I am quite sure that I will leave some clues to my identity here and there. Maybe I should run a guess who I am promotion on my blog. Do you think my corporate bosses will count this as “integrated marketing” work since I am incorporating a promotional contest on it? I hope so cause I have already realized that this is really going to decrease my productivity here at work. Oh and I have to give my favorite friend CAT back home in California props for inventing What? Let it be known that she has perfected the delivery, a sort of sideways, eyes half closed perplexed look coupled with a tone of utter distain – the result is, with one word and a look you can say “what the hell were you thinking/doing and I now reserve the right to point and laugh hysterically.”

So there you have it, the accidental blog.

Enjoy!