Friday, March 31, 2006

Oh the Drama-

I received the following e-mail this morning.

-----Original Message-----
From: Generally Friendly Ex-Coworker
To: Me
Sent: Fri, 31 Mar 2006 08:11:28 -0500
Subject: FW:
Good Friend of Mine (who I met at old job)'s Name then 12 exclamation points

Did you see this already?
-----Original Message-----

From: Possibly Psychotic Freelance Designer from Old Job Still Working at Old Job
Sent: Wed Mar 29 11:22:36 2006
To: Very Nice Merchandising Manager; Person Who Sent It To Me; Copy Director, Back-Stabbing Freelance Studio Assistant; Very Cool Quiet Associate Art Director; Back-Stabbing Ex-Coworker Who I Referred For The Job She Currently Holds And Who Has Gone Out Of Her Way to Talk About Me to My Ex-Boyfriend's New Girlfriend Regularly
Subject: Good Friend of Mine (who I met at old job)'s Name then 12 exclamation points

Link to My Friend's Old Blog. Very Well-Written Old Blog.

Have fun, she supposedly talked about everyone! Freak!

My Response To Forward

-----Original Message-----
From: Me
To: Generally Friendly Ex-Coworker
Sent: Fri, 31 Mar 2006 09:52:10 -0500

yeah, but the only one she talks about is Possibly Psychotic Freelance Designer from Old Job Still Working at Old Job. he was really a psycho to her. no one else. how ridiculous that he'd send it out? doesn't he have better things to do with his time.

Then, as a good friend, I forward the e-mail to Good Friend of Mine (who I met at old job). She sends an e-mail out to a select group of the recipients and BCC's me. Some of them weren't worth the time, including Back-Stabbing Ex-Coworker Who I Referred For The Job She Currently Holds And Who Has Gone Out Of Her Way to Talk About Me to My Ex-Boyfriend's New Girlfriend Regularly.

-----Original Message-----
From: Good Friend of Mine (who I met at old job)
To: Possibly Psychotic Freelance Designer from Old Job Still Working at Old Job ; Very Nice Merchandising Manager; Person Who Sent It To Me; Copy Director, Back-Stabbing Freelance Studio Assistant
Sent: Fri, 31 Mar 2006 10:59:20 -0500
Subject: MY SUBJECT TO FRIEND Unfortunately Re: OH MY G-D! Could you kill Possibly Psychotic Freelance Designer from Old Job Still Working at Old Job (PPFD)? He's such an a-hole

PPFD, PPFD, PPFD, I ran into your equally bat-shit crazy friend the other night, but I see you already knew that. Your zeal for 2 year old gossip is astounding. God bless and keep up the good work over there at workplace which has been given notice it will no longer be a workplace come May. Oh, wait...yeah, never mind. toodles!!

I e-mailed my Generally Friendly Ex-Coworker to apologize. Honestly, though, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't let someone know when they were being talked about by insane people? The backstory is that my friend ran into the PPFD's friend at a blogger happy hour where he proceeded to attack her in attempt to get in her pants. While she might have been turned off by him purely on his looks or personality alone (hell, she's one hot chick), she was doubley repulsed by his friendship with a dude who once basically stalked her. So needless to say, this dude ran and told PPFD he couldn't get laid because of their friendship AND OF COURSE PPFD reacted completely and totally beyond Psychotic. I might mention that PPFD is about 50-years old. Sad, but true!

It says something about your workplace when you're still having drama from it almost 6 months (my friend's been gone almost a year) after you left. Oy Vey.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

In My Opinion-

There are 2 types of "pretty girls."

Type 1: Pretty HOT girls.
Type 2: Pretty Pretty girls.

Pretty HOT girls never seem to have boyfriends, but always seem to be surrounded by guys. They dress hot. They talk about how much they eat even when they way 5 lbs. They touch men as they speak to them in the most inappropriate areas. They tend to clan together. They mention to one another how hot they all are. They hang out at bars, usually the same bar, often. They always feel they are "way" hotter than the girls dating the guys they think they want. They tend to go home with guys they meet in bars and say things like "I never do this with a guy I first meet." They show off their breasts. They show off their looks. They leave a party if there aren't any attractive men. They decide an evening was bad when they've not met an attractive me. They bitch about not meeting good guys. They knooooow the bartender. They knooooow the bouncer. Their grad school professor has a "wicked crush" on them. They end up going home with a guy with a girlfriend and then complain about the guy staying with his girlfriend. They wonder why a guy never sticks around. They are so hot afterall. A guy's first impression is "she's really hot," but as he gets to know her, she becomes stale.

Pretty PRETTY girls always seem to have boyfriends. They like to have fun, at a bar or watching television with their girlfriends. They get along with most people. They circulate at parties. They diet. They straighten their hair and get facials and manicures and pedicures and new clothes. They know how to make themselves look pretty. They would never even consider a guy who's in a relationship. They want to fall in love. They flirt well. They would like to meet a good guy. They're not opposed to meeting someone at a Single's mixer or on-line. They're pretty when they are dressed up and cute first thing in the morning. They don't frequent any bar, although they always have something on the agenda. They know that they are pretty, but they like to hear a guy say it. They are often insecure that other girls are prettier than them, but they've learned to build a personality all their own. They know they'd be missed if let go. They have good careers and ambitions. They're not scared of growing old. A guy's first impression is "hmmm, she's not bad," but as he gets to know her, she becomes beautiful.

To summarize- in my opinion- a guy dates a pretty Pretty girl and bangs a pretty Hot girl.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Yeah, So I'm A Superhuman Genius! Whatcha gonna do about it?

Your Birthdate: October 5

You have many talents, and you are great at sharing those talents with others.

Most people would be jealous of your clever intellect, but you're just too likeable to elicit jealousy.

Progressive and original, you're usually thinking up cutting edge ideas.

Quick witted and fast thinking, you have difficulty finding new challenges.

Your strength: Your superhuman brainpower

Your weakness: Your susceptibility to boredom

Your power color: Tangerine

Your power symbol: Ace

Your power month: May

Getting over being sick. Ready to go out again.

American Idol sucked last night. Why do they always do one show of current songs? If I can recall what it sounded like on the radio THAT MORNING, it will no doubt be hard for me to accept someone's "interpretation" of the song. Seriously AI Producers, it's like giving me Designer impostor's Fragrance. It's just never going to be good. Bucky has a 1 in 1000 shot of winning according to Trade Sports... serves him right for dressing up like one of those guys who guesses you weight at the County Fair. I didn't vote. It wasn't worth my time to even listen. Someone on Trade Sports chatting referred to Elliot Yamin as "Monkey Boy." That was the most entertaining part of the show.

APK and I, and everyone else in DC, saw Thank You for Smoking on Friday night. I liked it more than APK. His favorite part of the movie was that the theater was so crowded we ended up sitting in the handicapped seating. He's threatening a limp so we can snag the proper leg room when we go see American Dreamz (and yes, we are sooooo going to see that movie!). My take on TYFS: The movie was humorous and sad at the same time. How is it possible to like someone who appears inherently evil? Or is Nick Naylor evil at all? And Katie Holmes' boobs just weren't big enough for the consistent comments about her having great breasts. She's a cute girl and a good actress, but nice breasts, I think not.

In other news, CARGO's been pulled by Conde Nast, if you didn't hear.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

I've been sick the last couple days, blah. My sinus infection wasn't of greatest concern to my doctor. My blood pressure was 138/104. I don't really know that much about blood pressure, but apparently it should be 100 not 138. This could be caused from the Benadryl, Theraflu, Claritin, and Advil, I shoveled into my body to ease the pain. So I've been banned from over-the-counter medication for today... and I'm such a baby when it comes to pain... have spent the majority of the day with a cold wash cloth draped over my forehead trying to relieve the headache the old fashioned way. I had to go buy a $30 blood pressure monitor. They were out of the $18.99. The pharmacist suggested the $77 digital version. I explained that I'm only 26 and that I only need to monitor it for the week, I hope. My mother later explained that taking it myself with the one I bought will be rather hard. Oh well. I'm just excited that the kit came with a stethoscope. I plan to look up naughty nurse outfits once I feel better... tehe.

Monday, March 27, 2006

A friend of a friend sent this...

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Modern Relationship Levels

I did it. I officially switched my Friendster profile to "In a Relationship." It's the newest obstacle one must overcome in the progression of a relationship. APK asked why it matters what the profile states. I consider it the Fraternity Pin of today's culture meaning a public testament to others, and to yourself, that you are currently taken. One would think a guy would prefer this public declaration of being off the market over the purchase of expensive jewelry or a Fraternity ceremony. Hell, if it doesn't work out, all you have to do is update your profile.

So it's month number 4 in my current "relationship" on April 5th. After my 3 year relationship ended in June, I was adamantly against calling someone my boyfriend again unless I was 100% sure I would be having little Eden and Caleb with them. But there are certain complications that arise from being sort-of-off-the-market. Like when you get asked out by someone else... in actuality, until your married, you should probably be going on dates with any potential suitors. However, I'm one for staying focused on the task at hand, and APK, like most guys I seem to date, is highly territorial. Do I say politely to the guy asking me out, "I'm sorry, but I'm dating someone right now even though I'm not sure how seriously because he doesn't ever give me any indication of where he sees this going so if you wouldn't mind me calling you when it ends..." Oy.

Luckily, there was a 14 minute wait before the next train at the Clarendon Metro stop on Thursday night. Since both APK and I consider a serious talk the ultimate buzz kill, a 14 minute limit on said conversation actually ended up being ideal. Concise questions and answers. Sometimes a girl just needs to here, "I don't want you to date anyone else."

I changed my profile on Friendster for now. I figure it's more like a reminder to me that, for the time being, someone is calling me their own. Call me a total chick, but I sort of like it.

Friday, March 24, 2006

And While I'm At It.... How Funny? APK Much?

Your 80s Heartthrob Is

Michael J. Fox

I'm such a stereotypical chick sometimes...

You Are a Coy Flirt!

You're not so much a flirt as the type of girl who draws flirts in
While you look like you're just relaxing, secretly you've got your game on
A little look here, a little wink there... you give men the encouragement they crave
And in return, they flirt up a storm with you - while you just sit and smile

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Ella's Enchanted

Mmmmmm... free pizza! Went to Ella's last night with JM, IH, and AZ for happy hour. Their yummy sangria was $3.30 a glass, and they put out free pizza throughout the night. My total cost was $8. Plus, it's right across from the Gallery Place/ Chinatown metro stop, so it's completely accessible.

IH got us both carded by the bartender. Maybe it was the freezing cold or perhaps the bartender spoke a little jumbled, but she didn't catch that he said Yuengling was on special for $3.30. She thought he was pointing to some other obscure beer on tap. Without realizing what was going on, she asked him what that beer was... to which he responded "Uh an American Beer, can I check both of your IDs." Needless to say, if you're under 21 trying to get a drink, don't ask the bartender about common beers.

JM had a drink sent over to him. He was with 3 girls. The bartender only indicated that the drink came from "an admirer by the window." I guessed it was a dude who sent the drink over. I backed this guess for 2 reasons. 1) No female would send a drink to a guy standing with 3 girls and 2) Only a gay dude would recognize that JM was not flirting or into any of the girls he was with (b/c he has a girlfriend, but all the same). No one else agreed. Wishful thinking. Upon our exit, JM asked the bartender if a guy or girl sent the drink. 'Twas a dude.

I just got my new summer purse in the mail from Saks. It's white leather by Kate Spade. I've not bought a Kate Spade bag since the black nylon bag phase hit UMass in 1999. Thus my worry was that it would be embossed with twelve million Kate Spade New York logos. Nicely enough, there's only 1. I'm excited. Now please bring on the warm weather!

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Geeeeeee thanks AOL, I'm blushing...

AOL just made me feel divine. I checked the spelling on a webmail e-mail I was sending, and this sweet compliment popped up, "You have perfect spelling." Not, "You have no spelling mistakes in this e-mail." Thanks AOL! I'm blushing.

Robson and Jerome/ Kevin Covais

As mentioned in the below entry, the horrible British cover band that Simon Cowell produced in the 90s was named Robson and Jerome.

American Idol Wrap Up-

Starting from the beginning... I've just now realized that Mandisa doesn't use a last name on the Idol website. "Mandiva" it is, thank for that one Ryan. Song was good. Her hair style made her look a bit too much like Medusa. I forgot her during the commercial break.

Bucky Covington looks like that drunk obnoxious guy at a Karaoke dive bar who hits on girls way out of his league. I think Paula was doped up(as usual) and messed around with him thinking it was Ace Young. That's why she was nice. His song sucked.

Ace Young is hot. I don't pay attention to how he sings.

Paris Bennett annoys the crap out of me. She's arrogant. I'm thinking tonight she reminded me of Tracy Flick for President. I much prefer Lisa Tucker as far as wholesome teenage Idols go. She might not sing as well, but I'd much rather see her win.

My roommate does not think Kevin Covais is as adorable as I do. Oh, and apparently, Simon put together some rubbish band in Britain back in the day who covered that exact song. The album sold like gold, but when the sales demographic was analyzed, it appeared that 61-90 year old women were purchasing the album for their grandchildren. Needless to say, that's what Simon meant by his comment that Kevin's demographic will like his version of the song. "You sucked, but so did the band that bought me my house in the French Riviera."

Katharine McPhee and Kellie Pickler continue to kick serious Idol bootie. Kellie looks like a little Dolly Pardon. I sort of like her in that pound of makeup and skin-tight ensemble. Katharine looks like a young Catherine Zeta-Jones. She's got the basics down. Girls find her pretty and sweet, and guys find her hot. They're my pick for the final two girls. How cute was that fan's poster of Kelly as a pickle?

As for Chris Daughtry and Taylor Hicks, my theory is that they'll follow suit with Bo Bice and Constan-what's-his-name. At the beginning, everyone thought Constantine would beat Bo out. It turned out that by week number 7 fans were sick of hearing the same thing from Chris. Bo might have sounded similar week to week, but he was much less cool. He wasn't making love to the camera. He wasn't trying to have the world thing he was Chris Martin. He was doing the Bama Southern rock thing. He loved the music. Eventually, people began to love him more than the show stopper. I'm guessing Taylor stays and, in a week or two, Chris's popularity diminishes. It's only refreshing the first time around. Plus, Chris looks a bit too much like Howie Mandel on Deal or No Deal last night.

My top 3: Katharine McPhee, Taylor Hicks, and Kelly Pickler

Oh, and as for Elliot Yamin (who I forgot until now), dude may be the only Jew on the show, but I can't vote for him. He really does look like a primate.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

My tastes are diverse. My interests are complex. I'd be the worst person in the world to interview seeing as my mind jumps from one topic to another with barely a thread in between. In a word, I'm completely eclectic.

I think most people feel quarantined by their most prevalent passions and end up suppressing their less prominent interests. I don't. I know this makes me seem intense to some, but for others, the dynamic makes me seem interesting.

Think about what makes someone interesting. Normally, we consider someone interesting because they know more about a topic than others. Now think about the exact opposite. What makes someone boring? Normally, we consider someone boring because they stick with the same topic all the time. There's a fine line between being interesting and being boring, and, if you know too much about something and talk about it all the time, you come off worse than boring. You come off pretentious.

And I know we all say we don't care what other people think, but why then do boring people constantly say they talk about something because they don't care what you think? Why talk at all then? Why not learn the information for yourself? I think boring people often attend to topics because they want to sound interesting.

I've learned to like a little bit of many topics. This, in my opinion, makes someone interesting. I think plenty of people are eclectic. Life is eclectic. It's a mixture of love, work, and health. We have the ability to learn so many different things in one lifetime. Why not mix them all together? Why not become a connoisseur of nothing? Being eclectic broadens your ability to meet people. Being eclectic gives you a reason to form relationships. An eclectic person can consistently better themselves by learning something from other people.

It's like I said to APK on our first date to the Phillips Collection, "I did study art. I do know plenty about the subject matter, but I'm sure other people know plenty more. I'm not going to sit here and broadcast my minimal knowledge just to sound good to you. If it makes sense to say something, I'll say it. Otherwise, art is just one of my many interests. I'd hate for you to think I'm pretentious."

If you find me interesting, read the below information. If you think I'm all over the place, don't... and why are you reading my blog?

I believe that one should live their life wearing a cashmere t-shirt with sweat pants. Enjoying wine, but knowing the name of the best bottle under $10. Reading everything from Vogue to Business Week to Dating Blogs to Freakonomics. Watching American Idol and the Game Show Network. Playing Scrabble on-line while watching America's Next Top Model. Learning to wear hair curly AND straight. Listening to Debbie Gibson's Out of the Blue album and Snoop and Sinatra and Madonna. Thinking that the name Apple Martin is kind of cute. Combining Ferragamo shoes with something from Forever 21. Cooking recipes from Bisquick's website. Ordering grilled cheese at a fancy restaurant (certainly gave me a good story to tell). Not having a "type" of person they date. Being dedicated to Chanel's Hydramax tinted moisturizer and $4 mascara. Appreciating Paris Hilton's perfume (I got it as a gag gift from a friend, and decided to give it a test run. BG's friend D said, "Whatever you're wearing is hot. I'd f**k a dog if it was wearing that stuff.") Getting physically ill from Prime Rib. Being politically neutral. Being against nothing or being against everything or changing the mind several times before making a decision. And most importantly, not ever pretending to be anything they are not. If they want to become something, they can. There's no need for facades.

If you want to learn and grow, acquire knowledge and, when that knowledge becomes stale, learn something else. It might make you a journalist's nightmare, but I guarantee you that your life will be more fulfilling. I'll think you're interesting; I promise.

Monday, March 20, 2006

Utopia and the Money Pit

Atlantic City wasn't quite as profitable as APK and I hoped, actually, it pretty much robbed us both. I lost $100 on the Wheel of Fortune slot machines. Highly addictive slot machine. I was up a good $250 at one point, but my greed overtook the voice in my head that cried "Ferragamo." Oh well, I got a free dinner from 2 Cherry Hill police officers and their father. APK was busy playing poker. I was hungry. There were no seats at the bar. The host offered me a table for 1. Sniffle. I was about to decline the table and grab a bag of potato chips at the vending machine instead when one of the police officers offered me a seat with them. They then paid for dinner. Who says shivalry is dead. Quite a good story, huh?

APK's story is much more complicated. I don't know how to tell the entire thing. Something about the flops, the river, and the blind. Hmmm. "Basically," he explained, "say you were asked to pick 5 out of 6 numbers on a dice. Someone then says to you that they'll give you $300 if one of those numbers hit BUT you'll have to give them $300 if the one number you didn't pick hits, would you take the bet?" So somehow he lost money on a 91% chance of winning. As Woody Allen's most recent movie suggests, would you rather be good or lucky? If I were APK, I'd just be psyched to know that my hand had a 91% chance of winning. I'm so bad at math.

We stayed in Friday night. Without allotting too much detail, I'd like to mention the fun received from Jessica Simpson's Dessert line. May I suggest the Deliciously Kissable Hot Topping. APK will kill me if I go into any more detail. Let's just say, I'm not sure Nick should have bailed on the marriage quite yet. All that free Topping.

Saturday night, SC, TS, and SG and I went for a ladies-on-the-town style dinner at Utopia on U and 14th. Other than somewhat slow service, the food was divine, although by 3am, my alcohol consumption had taken over any long-lasting satisfaction. I'd not been to Local 16 since the summer, so I was pleasantly surprised to see it not crowded. I suppose the closing of the patio had something to do with the extra space. I was the attempted pick-up by a very drunk boy. Men, here's what NOT to do when trying to pick-up a girl:

1. Don't make out with someone else in front of them. If you are caught in such an attempt, don't lie and say she's your sister. This makes you seem disgusting rather than just sleazy.

2. Don't text anyone named Hamilton while hitting on said girl, and especially don't show said girl the text to Hamilton which read that she's hot. Certain names, like Hamilton, signify that either you are a coked-up rich kid, or that perhaps you would enjoy using Dessert on Hamilton more than said girl.

3. Don't ask a girl to dance to "Gold Digger." First off, bootie dancing is more like foreplay than a gentleman's way of picking a girl up. Secondly, if a girl is okay with being asked to have you grind up next to her, wait for a less degrading choice of lyrics.

4. Once said girl has politely declined to dance with you, don't grab her coat and throw it on the DJ's booth in an attempt to justify that she's definitely interested but has no where to put her coat. When the DJ then throws the coat onto the ground, you now owe the girl both a drink and dry cleaning. If she wants to dance with you, she will find a place for her coat. It's not the coat, it's you. K?

Last night, I got a chance to learn about Tori Spelling. I know you're jealous. Did you know you can actually e-mail Tori directly on her website fanmail section? I dare anyone to ask her if she's still mad at Gina about giving her father a heart attack and sleeping with David.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Rules for Riding the Metro

I would like to urge Metro riders in the DC metro area (New Yorkers are welcome to follow suit as well) to instigate the following politeness code of conduct for riding the Metro. This list omits obvious ones like staying to the right if you intend to float down the escalator. This code should be practiced at all times. It should be enforced especially during peak commuting times. I urge all riders to administrate these codes. Enforcement can be accomplished by ostracizing those who seek to challenge common courtesy. Open judgment, displeasing facial expressions, and mentioning tackiness are all encouraged. By following the below code of conduct, we will all enjoy our ride just a little bit more.

1. If you haven't brushed your teeth all day, please breath through your nose or seek an Altoid. You may not notice your breath, but we all do. Keep mouth wash in your desk drawer. If you have eaten your last peppermint, ask a neighbor for one. It's best for them too.

2. Ladies, we know big handbags are in style, but there is a proper way to hold them on a crowded train. Take them off your shoulder, holding them by the handles, at your waist. Please hold them under the boob line. This will decrease your width. Your handbag is not a child. It does not need to be held a certain way. Keep your bag as close to you as possible.

3. Showering is a human-only luxury. I realize that in the animal kingdom, smell is natural. However, you are a human. If you don't plan on showering, don't ride public transportation. If you have a horrible smell naturally, invest in cologne or don't ride the Metro.

4. And while we're on the subject of body odor, deodorant is something Americans use. We don't like the smell of sweat. We aren't very worldly. Most of us don't care that the French Upper Class avoids deodorant. Most of us would rather grind our nose through a meat chopper than smell you. When on the Metro in Washington, DC, invest in deodorant.

5. There is no need to scream on the Metro unless you've fallen onto the tracks or been mugged. Specifically, there is no reason to scream with your other 17-year old girlfriends on a crowded Metro purely to impress a bunch of 17-year old boys. They are about to hit their sexual peak in a year. No mating calls are necessary. Use your quiet voice on the Metro. If you don't have a quiet voice, learn sign language.

6. If you and a fellow rider are holding on by the same poll, don't sneeze on your fellow riders hand. Don't wipe your runny nose with the poll holding hand and then place it back on the poll. Don't let your fingers touch the other persons fingers. Don't stare at your neighbors rings or manicure. Just hold on and stay still, politely staring above. And if you're tall, have the courtesy to hold on to a poll above your head or as far up as your arm will allow.

7. Do not try to pick-up someone on a packed subway car, and definitely do not try to pick-up someone on a packed subway car if they are squashed into you and you are their father's age.

8. Men should make sure that they don't become erect while pushed against a female in a packed card (or a male). If you cannot help this natural feature and are over the age of 14, step out of the packed train at the next stop, find a bathroom, and wait for an unpacked car.

9. A packed car is NOT Rumors on a Saturday night in the summer. We're not all wasted Hill interns. Groping inappropriate areas is illegal. People will catch on if your hand miraculously keeps grabbing the breasts of fellow riders.

10. If you are inclined to wear stilettos to work but have yet to learn how to properly balance, bring sneakers to work. The Metro is not the runway with Miss Jay. Learn to walk before you fall into everyone else.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

American Idolist

Apparently, the contract for Ace Young fell 4 points on Tradesports yesterday. I'm going to avoid launching into a completely separate discussion about how bad your gambling problem must be if you are gambling 1) on-line and 2) on American Idol. Gamblers guess that the top 4 will consist of Taylor Hicks (Bama stud extraordinaire), Chris Daughtry, Katharine McPhee, and Paris Bennett. They were also saying this week we can expect to see Kevin Covais, Melissa McSlut, or Bucky Covington gone. Strangely, they were correct. Although, I don't think anyone predicted hottie Ace to be in the bottom 3. I'm so voting next week! I love you Ace!

Here's what I think:

First off, Kevin Covais is adorable. You can even here his lisp when he sings. My mother thinks he resembles Chicken Little. I think this will work in his favor. I call it the Mrs. V phenomenan. Middle class, middle American mothers don't care how someone sings. They care how nice someone looks. Kevin looks nice. They want their children growing up to be Kevin.

I was pleased to see Elliot Yamin not do so well this time around. I think he is a scientist's dream. He looks like evolution really did happen. I could see voting for him if I was 5. He looks like Curious George.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Forwarded by Mother this morning...

In the beginning, G-d created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with broccoli, cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow and red vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.

Then using G-d's great gifts, Satan created Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and Krispy Creme Donuts. And Satan said, "You want chocolate with that?" And Man said, "Yes!" and Woman said, "and as long as you're at it, add some sprinkles." And they gained 10 pounds. And Satan smiled.

And G-d created the healthful yogurt that Woman might keep the figure that Man found so fair. And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat, and sugar from the cane and combined them. And Woman went from size 6 to size 14. So G-d said, "Try my fresh green salad." And Satan presented Thousand-Island Dressing, buttery croutons and garlic toast on the side. And Man and Woman unfastened their belts foll! owing the repast.

G-d then said, "I have sent you heart healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them." And Satan brought forth deep fried fish and chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter. And Man gained more weight and his cholesterol went through the roof.

G-d then created a light, fluffy white cake, named it "Angel Food Cake," and said, "It is good." Satan then created chocolate cake and named it "Devil's Food." G-d then brought forth running shoes so that His children might lose those extra pounds. And Satan gave cable TV with a remote control so Man would not have to toil changing the channels. And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering blue light and gained pounds.

Then G-d brought forth the potato, naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition. And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fried them. And Man gained pounds.

G-d then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite. And Satan created McDonald's and its 99-cent double cheeseburger. Then said, "! You want fries with that?" And Man replied, "Yes! And super size them!" And Satan said, "It is good." And Man went into cardiac arrest.

G-d sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery.

Then Satan created HMOs.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Braggers Can't be Choosers

When you're little, braggers are ridiculed openly. The child boasting about his large collection of Transformers is generally the child with the most black eyes. Braggers often exaggerate the truth in an attempt to make themselves seem bigger, richer, smarter, or cooler. As children, we are much more inclined to voice displeasure of boasting and much more likely to judge, ridicule, or beat up braggers.

So what becomes of these braggers in adult hood? They morph into someone that most adults cannot stand, but strangely, are not judged as often as they should be. It takes an immature person, like myself, to call them out as a bragger.

PPT Bragger: My best friend's old roommate was the worst kind of person, place, or thing bragger. She would tell you all about meeting Tom Brady, how her uncle was a Patriot's Doctor, how her father did Clint Eastwood's varicose veins, or how she went to the Counting Crow's concert and got a signed guitar. She would tell you about her beach house, her magazine's launch party, or about her free dinner at Old Homestead because her friend was the manager. She would talk to you about her amazing life never once inviting you to come along. She would never buy you a cool gift for your birthday or offer to upgrade your bleacher seats at a Patriot game. No, she would just tell you about her life. Her amazing life. And you were supposed to say to her, "wow, your life is amazing." And this was supposed to make you want to be her friend. I declined.

But I Came to Your Party Braggers: But he graced your party with his presence amongst his super busy schedule. But he made a point of cutting out of his all-important happy hour or work schedule to stop by the party you invited him to for an hour. But he called you to let you know that he was too busy to come to dinner, and it's not like he just didn't come. And he sees you more than once a week, more than he sees any of his other friends, because he always tries to make time for the millions of invitations you throw his way. And yet, does he ever invite you to go to the movies with him? Does he ever add your name to an evite? Does he ever say, "Hey, why don't you stop by this happy hour?" Nope, he just consistently tells you how busy he is and how lucky you are to have him come to your party at all. He makes you work for his friendship. He is just so busy, although he never invites you to join him, and you should just feel honored that he has made time to come by your party at all.

Job Title Braggers: I was at a happy hour recently where I met an unattractive girl who had just graduated college. She was working in my field at an obscure law firm. She asked me about my job, which I gladly elaborated about. I love my job. I have control over my own projects, and the creative license to try out new forms of Marketing. I love my boss and coworkers. I can afford to maintain a pretty nice lifestyle. I've worked really hard to get to this point in my career. My title is not something I've even considered in my employment happiness. So when she asked me what my title was, I responded with my actual title. "Oh, I'm an [extremely pretentious title]." So I asked what she did. She managed the Director's calendar, sent out Media Kits, and fielded phone calls. My job description required 3-5 years experience. I handle my own accounts. I don't care if she's the Vice President, she's still doing entry level work. I felt no need to further justify. I'm not sure if that's what she was hoping I'd do. I simply went on with the conversation. DC is high on over-inflated titles. I don't need an puffed up title to make me feel important in my job. My actual work makes me feel important.

Healthy Lifestyle Braggers: They run marathons on injured knees so they can say, "I ran 26 miles this morning, and now my injured knee is acting up." No sh*t Sherlock. I don't really care if you only eat whole grain bread. I don't need to know if you drink 12 gallons of orange juice a day. My roommate ran a marathon Saturday morning. She didn't even mention it until I saw her the next afternoon. Why? She's healthy for herself. It makes her feel good. She doesn't do it so she can tell me she did it so that I then think she's healthy. That doesn't matter. She also doesn't eat red meat. She'd never expect that I wouldn't. She only mentions it when I'm cooking for her and ask. I think it's great that people want to be healthy, but I don't want to hear about it. Do it for yourself.

Education Braggers: Congratulations if you went to an Ivy League school. I'm happy your smart. I'm sure you'll do great things with your life, but unless your lessons at Harvard helped you develop a cure for cancer, I don't think I need to know that you went to school there. The smartest people I know don't have to prove their smart. And if I ask where you went to school, please don't respond "New Haven." Then you sound even more pretentious... like you want to sound humble about going to Yale. If you know someone from college, don't introduce the person as you're buddy from Columbia unless you've gone to more than one college in your life and need to elaborate. Colleges should stay on Friendster and resumes.

Low-maintenance Braggers: Why do people always need to tout how little time it takes them to get ready? My friend EP recently pointed out to her boyfriend, "I could get ready in 5 minutes, but I'd look horrible on your arm." It's not impressive to anyone that you don't care of yourself. It's not a badge of honor. Unless you roll out of bed resembling Rebecca Romijn, I think you should probably work on yourself a bit more. Past the age of 20, no one is jealous.

So that's my list so far. Can you tell I'm totally moody today?

Friday, March 10, 2006

Games People Play

My favorite people watching game is the "Getting Some or Not Getting Some" game. To be most polite, I suggest using acronyms like GS and NGS. You should pick out a person and determine whether or not their having sex. When watching television, a good variation on this game is the "Virgin or Not a Virgin" game. In the privacy of your own home, no acronyms are needed.

APK and I have determined that Melissa McGhee from American Idol has given blow-jobs to every male contestant in the top 12. She's also probably been with half of Tampa.


A good Dupont Circle specific variation of the game is "Gay or Straight".
A good Capital Hill specific variation of the game is "Democrat or Republican".
A good Bryant Park specific variation of the game is "Conde Naster or Not".

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

My Ad for Atlantic City:

Caption to read:

Atlantic City:

Where your woman can dress like a slut without scorn, wear fur without the proper season, and spend money on spas and shopping without a peep from their occupied boyfriend.

Atlantic City:

Where men can have it all in black & white. Make money gambling and get laid.*

* Atlantic City stands by this statement, but cannot guarantee whether sex will come from someone you love or someone you've paid.

APK and I are going to AC next Thursday. I'm excited! My boobs will be jacked up as far as my Frederick's of Hollywood red lace bra will allow. My leather bomber jacket will be amply weathered. My hair will be Fran Drescher teased. Yep. I'm ready for an AC trip.

The Sum VS. The Parts

In typical relationship fighting, the sum of the parts is greater than each isolated part. On Monday, APK and I planned a night in at his apartment to cook faijitas and watch American Idol (Go Katherine McPhee!).

A) I was going to the grocery store on Monday night and offered to get the needed ingredients. It wasn't very expensive. Probably $15 all together since I had guacamole at my house already. I didn't expect him to help pay for the meal. I'm certainly okay to spend $15.

B) Yesterday morning, I e-mail APK to find out what I should do about work the next morning. We decided that it'd be easiest if I drove over to his house, found parking nearby, and came home to change at my place the next morning. I also joke about my Nazi behavior in the kitchen. He says he's okay with my authoritative cooking habits.

C) APK e-mailed me again to suggest that I park on 16th Street when the spots opened at 6:30pm, but that I'd have to leave that evening to avoid ticketing. He also mentions in a later e-mail that he hopes I don't have to leave right after American Idol finishes...
I doubted whether or not I should go over. I bought the food, drove over to his apartment, cooked the food, give him some action, and then leave. I now feel a bit like a pro bono hooker. No good. He doesn't understand. He offers to pay for the dinner. He suggests I take a cab to his place, stay overnight, and bring work clothes for today. I try best to explain that each part separately is not an issue. It's the sum of all the parts that creates the dilemma.
In dating fights, the build-up of A+B+C most always equals something greater and possibly entirely different than each isolated part.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

The Subway Stop Rule

There's a joke in the New York dating show that you shouldn't date someone who lives more than 1 subway stop away from you.

I can vouch for the Subway Stop Rule.

While still living in New York this past summer, I went to a black tie wedding with a boy I was seeing. He lived in Stuyvesant Town on East 18th St. and the Eastern edge of Manhattan. I lived on West 89th St. and the other edge of Manhattan. There is no direct route of public transportation between these two points. You must take a minimum of 2 modes, be it 2 busses, 2 subways, or 1 subway and 1 bus. I stayed over. We got back at about 5am. I was a broke chick in Publishing, so a cab was way out of the question. At 3pm on a Saturday afternoon, I stood in my beaded top and chiffon skirt balancing on my 5" silk, ankle wrap heels waiting for a bus. Parents were pulling their children away from me. I might as well have been naked. I called AW on the phone to describe where I was standing and what I was wearing. She giggled with absolute delight. And yes, I answered, my hair was still in half an up-do and my smoky eyes were still remotely smoky.

Anyways, in DC, no such rule exists. I do have my car here, so technically, it doesn't really have to apply. But when you date someone within the city, and they happen to live 1.08 miles from your apartment, the ability to be spontaneous about sleepovers drains away. In order to stay at APK's on a school night, I have to figure out if I am bringing my clothes over, taking a cab back to my place in the evening, take a cab back in the morning, driving over and parking somewhere overnight, or driving over and parking on a street that require me to move my car by this evening. I just thank heavens I can opt to wear my sweats and sneakers for the night. A couple Sunday mornings ago, my cab driver from his place asked me if I was on my way to church... seeing as I was forced to put my Saturday evening attire back on to get home. I lowered my head and said yes.

Fashion Police

Yeah, I know they're annoying and crude and have absolutely no right to comment on other people's fashion mistakes when they themselves dress like drag queens. And yeah, I know they're now on the TV Guide Channel. But I miss seeing Joan and Melissa Rivers on E! Fashion Police . I look forward to tonight every year. It's the best part of watching the awards shows. Most people join polls and take on-line quizzes about their picks for best movie. I do the same for Best and Worst Dressed.

But something is just not right. Jay and Jay are no subsitute for Joan and Melissa. They're not cheesy enough. They're not annoying enough. They're not loud enough. They don't make stupid pointless jokes. They're make-ups not thick enough. They're just not Joan and Melissa. And yes, I realize I could watch the TV Guide Channel, but all of those show listings are distracting. I don't have the patience for such things. Can we start a petition to have E! match whatever offer they got from TV Guide Channel so we can see them back next year?

Monday, March 06, 2006 SUCKS!

Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks so badly they'd leave a hickey on your neck. Sucks so badly Dyson could market them as a new vacuum. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks.

Went on-line to purchase my tickets for Cowboy Mouth (yay!) at the 930 Club this Saturday, March 11th.

$20 a ticket. I was getting one for APK and one for I. So, $40. Imagined their would be a service fee. Just didn't imagine a freaking $4.50 service fee PER ticket PLUS an additional $3.25 fee to HOLD THE TICKETS AT WILL CALL.

Are you kidding me? That's $12.25. The cost of a 2 zone DC Cab. Outrageous. AND if I just drive over to the 930 Club and get the tickets, no fees.... none... so plllllllleeeeeeease tell me why they hell I'm paying this fee again when the club can offer the tickets at a normal price?

So yeah. Where's Pearl Jam when you need them? Eddie, I got another one for you to protest.

Choose Your Lover Carefully

Choose Your Lover Carefully by Cass and Janie Jackson usually makes me giggle. Below are the 3 most compatible signs for each sign in the zodiac.

Aries- Gemini, Aquarius, Pisces
Taurus- Taurus, Libra, Capricorn
Gemini- Aries, Virgo, Libra
Cancer- Capricorn, Pisces, Taurus
Leo- Libra, Scorpio, Virgo
Virgo- Cancer, Gemini, Pisces
Libra- Gemini, Leo, Aquarius
Scorpio- Leo, Cancer, Taurus
Sagittarius- Virgo, Capricorn, Pisces
Capricorn- Scorpio, Cancer, Taurus
Aquarius- Aquarius, Sagittarius, Pisces
Pisces- Pisces, Sagittarius, Aquarius
So as not to bore you with all of my thoughts on the Oscars, here's a quick list of what I thought:

-Dude! Michelle Williams looked gorgeous. Here's proving that starring on a hit teen drama series will NOT be the highlight of her career. And here I thought Katie Holmes would end up being the most famous...

- Did anyone else think it was funny that Ryan Seacrest and Isaac Mizrahi were talking about an upcoming wedding on E's pre-show between Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban and then she comes out in something that looked like a wedding dress?

-Um, Jennifer Garner and Sandra Bullock both have really manly faces... I wonder if they are Transamerica style?

-Matt Dillon is just as sexy as he was in Singles years ago. I'd take him in a heartbeat, and he doesn't even have to say "Bless You" to me when I sneeze.

Friday, March 03, 2006

Let's Talk About Sexy, Baby!

Sexy. Arousing or tending to arouse sexual desire or interest. What makes someone sexy?

APK talks often about sexy. I've asked him on a number of occasions if he found a sweet girl or a softly pretty girl or a cute girl or even a smart girl attractive. His response to many of them has been, "she's just not sexy." And no, I don't think he's just saying that to appease me.

He talks often of liking sexy ugly. Sexy ugly is someone that isn't attractive by normal standards of attractiveness in the least. They might be shaped like a bowling ball or have teeth resembling a chipmunk or an asymmetrical face with not so nice features. Sometimes they're dressed in an unflattering pair of jeans or talk with an unattractive accent. But there's something about them that screams to men, "Take me to bed now!" The closest I've come to feeling this way about a man is having the overwhelming urge to jump into bed with Sean Paul.

The main reason women don't need to make up catchy phrases for why they won't or will date someone is that women don't need to justify they're attraction to a man infront of their friends. Perhaps we're just cattier than men are and secretly hope that our friends don't end up with the perfect package of hotness, smartness, wealth, and prestige. I've heard one too many times that a guy couldn't date a nice looking girl because she's got FP (Fat Potential, which means she will eventually be a total porker) or a But-her Face (Everything's hot on her except she's ugly in the face). SC's mother's advice about how to take it when a man isn't acting up to par was "Remember that women are mean and men are dumb." Or perhaps we're just more in tune with our sexual desires and know that the way a man speaks or his passion for his job or the way he irons his trousers are enough to make us turned on in the bedroom. Considering that for a woman to have an orgasm, we need the mental stimulation in check, we're in no need of phrases like sexy ugly, FP, or but-her.

But what makes someone sexy? I remember years ago Victoria's Secret put out a little box of 10 sample perfumes with each named after an adjective like happy, outgoing, seductive, playful that also included a bottle of unscented pheromone. Could it be that sexy is so primitive a reaction, merely all about our projected pheromone? I doubt that.

My belief is that sexy is all about signaling to the opposite sex the need to get laid. Giselle modeling Very Sexy lingerie in the Victoria's Secret add campaigns is unmistakably saying to men, and yes some women too, "grab me and thrust me onto a bed". But maybe it's more than just the clothing we wear. Maybe it's a confidence in ourselves that someone wouldn't be crazy to feel the urge to devour us.

I'm often told I'm sexy. I don't know how to take that, because I don't know many women who'd prefer to hear "Your sexy" over "Your beautiful" or "Your hot". Sexy isn't necessarily a good thing. The funny thing is though, I dress very very very conservatively. I rarely show cleavage. I even wear a freaking minimizer so that no one knows how big my boobs really are! Honestly, I look more like a Brooks Brothers advertisement than a Victoria's Secret commercial. So why then am I sexy? And why is someone who dresses way more provocatively and would most likely go home with someone they met in a bar... why would they not be called sexy?

I end up circling back to confidence. Confidence not in what I say or what I wear. Confidence in my abilities, ahem (sorry mom), in the bedroom. I know full well, with proof, that when someone hooks up with me they definitely won't forget me. I have way less confidence in my ability to satisfy my partner as a girlfriend than I do in how to satisfy my partner as a lover. So perhaps that's what's projecting out of me. Take me out to dinner. Date me. And you won't regret it. Maybe that's what sexy is. Anyone else? What's sexy?

Thursday, March 02, 2006


A coincidence is defined as a sequence of events that although accidental seems to have been planned or arranged. As I have said over and over again, I believe that everything happens for a reason. I generally know that something is meant to happen when I find myself saying repeatedly "wow, now that was a coincidence." Keep in mind though, I don't believe the opposite of that statement or that everything that coincidentally occurs is meant to happen. I do tend to find myself in strings of coincidences though. Take APK, the most recent of these situations.

I coincidentally was set to meet up with my elusive cousin after my first Shabbat Cluster. Coincidentally, APK and my cousin went to high school together and had not seen one another in a good 6 years. I had just introduced my cousin to Friendster about a week earlier and urged him to join. After both my cousin and I requested APK as our friend on the same day, I received an e-mail from APK with the subject line "Coincidence."

Coincidentally, APK was a member of the Phillips Collection and invited me to come with him to the museum on a Sunday. He had no knowledge that I'd ever studied art. Coincidentally, I was put in my setting on the first time we hung out. Also coincidentally, APK went on exchange during college with BG. Before about 6 months ago, whatever BG thought of someone would have greatly influenced how I felt about them. Recent activities, however, had allowed me to fight with BG and not take anything he said seriously. Coincidentally, even though BG and APK now get a long just fine, I met APK when I couldn't have cared less what BG thought about him.

At the first happy hour APK took me to, he introduced me to "the epicenter of Jewish social culture in DC" and a good friend of his. Coincidentally, she and I went on a trip to Israel together in 1996. Also coincidentally, I bumped into SC, a friend of BGs who I thought was really cool, and got to hang out with she and her friends. Coincidentally, she works about a block from my office.

Skip ahead to recent coincidences. Coincidentally, APK's two closest guy friends in DC are both from the same town in Massachusetts as several of my closest guy friends from college. Degas is one of my favorite artists. Coincidentally, the opening for which APK invited me was for a Degas exhibit. My coworker's husband is a lawyer. This I've known since I started. I was telling APK two weekends ago that I go to lunch with my boss and coworkers at least twice a week. He asked if this was tough with work talk coming up and such. Which it's not. It's truly quite nice. Coincidentally, the next Monday at lunch we got to talking about APK. My coworker's husband is the type of lawyer APK wants to be at a firm APK was interested in looking into. Coincidentally, he's also the recruiter for the firm and able to give the exact advice about choosing a school on which APK needs.

So coincidentally, things just seem to be making perfect sense. There are more, but for the sake of keeping this post out of novel form, I've abridged. Needless to say, I doubt it's all accidental.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

America voted and...

American Idol. One of my very favorite things. I missed the first season while backpacking in Europe, but got back just in time to see the sing off between Kelly and Justin. Ever since then, I've been a full fledge fan. I vote. I vote many times. I grab other people's phones so I can vote for two people at once. I get pissed when I vote for the wrong person by dialing the wrong number accidentally. I get pissed when America votes off someone I like... even rebelling at one point and intentionally not watching the following week's results. My mother and I conference during the 8 million commercial breaks and hang up the second Ryan comes back on. I own most of the finalists CDs. It didn't even really bother me that Clay Aiken used incorrect grammar in the chorus of his most famous song ("If I was Invincible" should be "If I were...")
Yep, I'm a big loser when it comes to American Idol.

I guess I'm pretty much the reason that people who don't vote or aren't total AI losers can never understand how talented people often get voted off early and ugly, fat, or dorky looking people often succeed. That's because of me. I vote for those for whom I feel bad or for whom I want as friends. Generally, I hate people like Constantine who are arrogant. I also vote for anyone from Alabama regardless of my opinion on them. I feel like that's my American duty. I also tend to brag about the number of contestants from Alabama... and since, to my knowledge, I don't actually own Alabama, this really makes no sense whatsoever.

I usually hate the Barbie blondes. I gave them that clever name to make discussing with my mother a bit easier... ie "Oh my gosh, Barbie blonde totally sucks. Her boobs are so fake. Did you see Simon checking her out?" I almost always think they suck even when they don't.

This season, I hate Heather Cox. I don't really care how she sings. She's just wrong. Her hair is too blonde. Her skin is too tan. Her boobs are too padded, AND she almost always wears a tube top that is about to fall off.

I always love the sheltered Southern blondes, like Kimberly Caldwell and Carrie Underwood. I especially like when they give those interviews before they sing and mention that they wake up at 5am to milk cows or have never tried calamari.

This year I'm a total Kellie Pickler fan. She's just so darn cute. I really could care less how she sings.

Then there's usually the one girl I do truly see as the next American Idol. When that happens, I tend to vote so that when she wins I can say to people "Oh yeah, I called that and was voting for her from day one." And by people, I mean my mother.

I'm going with Katharine McPhee this time around. Especially since she's got the little bit of weight that we love in our female American Idol winners (Kelly and Carrie).

And then finally, there's always that really good contestant who other people, APK, really like and want to win, who I tend to not be interested in and secretly hope to see fail. I always route for the underdog. The talent seeking watchers don't actually vote. Ever. It's people like me who vote. And I like it when a fat woman who Simon attacked makes it all the way to the finals. So I guess, if you are watching wondering:

"But Paris Bennett was soooo good! How'd she get into the bottom 2? This show is so rigged!" Uh no. I'm just secretly hoping Kellie Pickler beats her... and voting for Kellie and Katharine.