Tuesday, August 30, 2005

I'm hooked

It's my week off. I start my new job on September 6. I wish I could say I'm going somewhere exotic and fun... but I'm not. I don't get paid again until October, so funds are low and need to be saved.

I'm having a relaxing time... Cleaning, doing laundry, reorganizing my closets (yes, that is plural), working out/running, hanging out with the fam, catching up with friends - and taking care of my new addiction.

PokerStars.com. There ya have it. You can find me in the play money tables, playing Texas Hold'em... Username: absolut_sara.

Seriously, my eyes are going bad from staring at my computer screen. And I can't stop. I don't want to. It's too much fun. And besides, what else is a broke girl to do? (Other than sleeping in until 11:30, as was the case today.) ;-)

Have fun at work today guys... hehe


Sunday, August 28, 2005

The first to let go



In relationships... well, more in relationships that have ended, it often turns into a race to be the first one to get over the relationship. You put on a happy face and act, date other people and force yourself not to think about your ex - all the while hoping that they're thinking of you.

Sometimes you get over them. Sometimes you never do. But you never really stop to think about how they're feeling. In your mind, they're trying just as hard as you are to get over the relationship. But in reality, sometimes those exes are hurting way more than you are. Sometimes they can never really get over you. And maybe that's something that people should think about more often.

You know the feeling of getting over someone... When you suddenly realize that you haven't really thought about them for a while... when you have feelings for someone else that don't make you fantasize about your ex finding out... when you can finally wish them well in life and love - and mean it. It's often a nostalgic feeling, because deep down you sometimes like holding on to holding on. You know you're better off with out feeling for them, but at the same bittersweet time, you don't want to let go because that will mean that it's really over (even when you know that it's good for you).

Back to my point though, it's basically a race (in your head) to get over each other. But what happens when you really are the first to let go? Do you ever think about it? Because sometimes you can find out a year later that your ex is still struggling and hurting. And maybe it's not the best to finish the race first because you're forced to see the other person hurt which, as much as you may have dreamed for it to happen in the period before you were really over them, really sucks.

Maybe you're thinking about an ex hurting right now... and you're thinking - wow that wouldn't suck, I hope s/he's still hurting over me! Well, that just means you're not really over them (ok, with the exception of exes who purposefully hurt you while you were together). Think about it, you once cared enough about the person to be with them - to share yourself with them... When you're over the hurt feelings from a break up you can once again own up to the fact that you don't really want to see your ex be hurt.

I do believe that boys and girls can be just friends. I have a lot of guy friends. But I am, right now, questioning whether exes can ever really be friends. Will one person out of each break up always hold on to feelings (sometimes hidden) for the other?

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Guess what happened at the lake yesterday!

..........................DRUMROLL PLEASE..........................

Nothing. Yeah, sorry to disappoint but yesterday was just a boring run. That's it. The most exciting part was maybe when I forgot to keep my mouth firmly shut when running through an area, coming out of the woods, where there are always like a zillion gnats flying everywhere... And I swallowed a few of them {shudder}... But I hear they're a source of protein, right?

Anyway, I heard on the Hot 99.5 Hollywood Hotsheet this morning that British comedian Sacha Baron Cohen (a.k.a. Ali G) came in through the ocean on a turtle flotation device (or something of that manner). He was dressed as Kazakhstani TV reporter and he tackled Pamela Anderson during her dogs' wedding at the beach. He was promptly thrown back into the ocean by security.

OK, sorry that you got knocked over Pam... but I think that the thing that bothers me most about this is the fact that she was marrying her dogs. Am I out of the loop? Does this happen a lot? Because to me, it's just ridiculous. Come on. Pam's golden retriever, Star, tied the knot with her Chihuahua, Luca.

"Pammy, 38, carried 'groom' Luca to the altar, while 'bride' Star was led up on a lead by a pal of the sexy actress."

Is this just me? I mean, how does getting married change anything about dogs? Do they take vows not to sniff the butts of other dogs? I don't get it. It's so stupid.

Yeah, OK. So the picture's cute.
I still think it's redonkulous.

*Postscript: I just read that Pamela Anderson was filming the special dog-event for a reality show. I still say it's still a dumb idea to have wedding ceremonies for dogs.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Another Lake Story


As you may or may not know, I've started running 4 times a week (well, sometimes 3) around the lake behind my house. I'm determined to get in shape - as I've already signed up for the flag football team at my new job (although I don't start until September 6). Well, had I been running this whole year, I would never have needed to think up new material for the butterfly network. I find something new to write about every time that I run around it!

I was pissed yesterday, for personal reasons, which apparently is good to run with because I shaved 4 minutes off of my time around... But that's neither here nor there. The real story actually takes place during one of my walking segments.

I usually go by this pretty, pleasantly plump, older girl, I notice her each time because she's one of the few females who will smile back at me and she has a really pretty face. She stopped when she saw me walking and had something that she wanted to say to me. Here's how the conversation went:

Girl: Hey, I have a question for you!
Sara: OK, what's up?
Girl: What high school did you go to?
Sara: Robinson, why? Did you got here?
Girl: Oh no, but I just think that my little brother would be perfect for you.
Sara (thinking that, for the amount of times that stuff like this happens to me, I must have a sign somewhere shouting out that I'm single): Um, hmm... Uh...
(what exactly was I supposed to say here?)
Girl: Listen, he's really cute and really smart. He's actually really popular too!
Sara: (thinking, popular? I haven't heard that phrase since... oh no): How old is your brother?
Girl: He's going to be a senior at {a rival} high school!
Sara (chuckling): Um, and how old do you think I am?
Girl: What, like 16 or 17?
Sara: I'm going to be 24 in a few weeks.

It turns out that she had really asked me, "what high school do you go to" not "what high school did you go to". See the difference?

Anyway, she was embarassed and we had a good laugh, as she's only three years older than me. It turns out her little brother has a bad habit of dating trashy girls and since she always sees me running, she wanted to try to set him up with someone healthy looking...

Great. So, I get mistaken for a 16-year-old? This has happened a couple times in the past two years. (Like when I went shopping for a dress for my sorority formal, my last year of college, and the saleswoman couldn't believe I wasn't shopping for prom because, according to her, I couldn't be a day older than 17 - I was 22.) I guess it doesn't matter and it's certainly better than when a coworker asked me a few weeks ago if I was 30 or not. I guess I had just been under the (apparently mistaken) impression that I fill a sports bra out better than a teenager. Dammit. So much for that theory.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Themed Weddings

I was listening to Elliot in the Morning this morning during my hideous monday morning commute to work. It was actually the best of Elliot (I think) so it may have been an older segment. But he was having engaged people call in and talk about their weird wedding plans. And I swear, I heard the strangest things.

First of all, there were a ridiculous amount of callers who said that they were having Star Wars themed weddings. Brides dressing as Princess Leia, couples entering the reception as Star Wars music plays in the background, after cake cutting saber fights... I mean, it was ridiculous! Maybe I just don't get it - as I've never seen a single Star Wars episode (I just had to look up how to spell Leia) - but I can pretty much guarantee that if I had, I still wouldn't be modeling my wedding after it. Come on. You've got to be kidding me.

Then there was the caller who said that he and his fiance were either going to go to their wedding as Batman and Robin or as Sonny and Cher. Um, let's see. In the first choice, they would be going as two men (and for the record, this was a heterosexual couple). In the latter, one of the characters is DEAD. Great. What is wrong with these people?

Elliot then reminisced about attending a Halloween wedding in which everyone (bride and groom included) wore black. And instead of candles lit everywhere, there were jack-o-lanterns. Another caller said that at a wedding she went to on halloween: the groom dressed as Chucky, the bride was the bride of Chucky, the best man was the devil, the maid of honor was an angel, the groomsmen were the KKK and the priest dressed as Jesus. Um. No thank you.

There were other callers - one was having a white trash wedding full with a red carpet in front of a trailer and bridesmaids entering on ATVs - another was attending a 2006 Lord of the Rings themed wedding (but he was planning to dress as Harry Potter to crash it). I mean, what is wrong with these people?

Personally, when I think of a wedding theme, I think about a romantic theme with candles and lace and an old white church. Or maybe of a beach theme, of being barefoot on the sand with the sunset in the background. Am I the weird one?

Friday, August 19, 2005

The Bigger The City...

...the lonelier it can be.

I knew the adjustment would be hard, but NOT this hard. I'm a tough girl, I've handled a lot in my life and experienced things not every woman goes through at such a young age. I lost my father at eleven years old and grew up very, very fast. Moving to NYC would be a cakewalk compared to other life experiences I've faced. I thought I could take on NYC and own it. Who the hell was I kidding?

My poor, poor friends back in DC. I call/IM them every single waking hour and tell them how miserable I am. I'm all alone. No friends. Live alone. Eat alone. No cable tv at my place. No internet. Lots and lots of reading. (Nothing wrong with that though.)

Last night I went to dinner by myself. Sat in the restuarant and ordered my favorite Peruvian dish, Cerviche, with a glass of white wine. Observed my surroundings and saw that I was the only person in the restaurant dining alone. No big deal, right? Well, it still made me feel empty and very alone. I was jealous of the other couples, the friends, the families, gathered to share some QT time together. I literally had to jerk back tears because it made me miss my friends and family SO MUCH.

I found myself at work today talking about how much I loved DC and why I loved it so much more than NYC. Once again, I had to pause, because if I talked about it any more, the tears would come flowing down.

Thankfully, I haven't cried yet. I'm still holding it in, but I don't know how much longer.

I'm stressing that I didn't make the right decision to move to NYC. Why would I leave behind a great life, great friends, great job? I want to walk away in life and have no regrets, but I feel a wave of regrets surfacing as I think more about my decision.

It's been a month now and I'm sick of my life here. I'm sick of getting off work late at night, going to dinner alone, riding the disgusting subway, smelling manure and urine every street corner I turn, not knowing a familiar face, or just having a friend to vent to. Or someone to grab a beer with. I want to come home.

So I am.

Tomorrow. :-)

On my day yesterday

There's a lake about 1/2 a mile behind my house. It's between 2 and 2 1/2 miles long. This is the lake I run around three to four times a week (which just started last week, so we'll see how long I keep it up.) And by run around, I mean run for two minutes and walk for two minutes alternating... Because it's a weight loss program, not a marathon training.

Anyhow. I'm writing this post to show you a prime example of how I always manage to embarrass myself. With out fail.

At close to the end of a lake lap, I always run by a basketball court. There are always people playing on it, but I never pay attention because by that point I'm getting tired and focusing on finishing. Yesterday there were a bunch of boys playing. And one of them threw the basket ball so that it landed right in front of me - apparently to get my attention because obviously I listen to my music so loud while running (to drown out the sound of my breathing) that I didn't hear him calling at me. So I stopped and some guy ran up to get the ball and told me that his friend thought that I was pretty and wanted to ask me for my phone number. I thought it was kind of stupid that his friend came over, as though we were back to being 14. Then he pointed to the boy, who was smiling over at us kind of sheepishly... And he was very cute. Of course, I suddenly thought it was the sweetest thing ever that his friend came over for him.


Description: Tall, shaggy light brown hair, very nice arms. Green eyes. Just a little bit bigger (muscle-wise) than I usually like... but he pulled it off very nicely. He was wearing a cutoff Harvard Law T-shirt. Was I impressed by the shirt? Yes, so sue me. Am I aware that it could easily have been someone else's shirt? Yes. Do I care? Not really. Did I give him my number? You betcha.

So I move onto my second lap of the lake. OK, and I'll admit it. I was feeling pretty good about myself. I really was feeling a little bit cocky. I'm sure you can understand - when you get hit on by an attractive person, you're confidence is always bolstered, so you know the feeling. But around my lake, there are about three spots where, no matter what, you will always run through a spider web. Almost guaranteed. I was a little more than half way around the lake and I reached one of these spots. I always run through them waving my arms in front of me to get rid of the webs. Well this time, I swung my arms up (I don't know why, I always swing them down) and I freaking hit a spider and I propelled it right into my own face. Let me pause here and say that I have a major thing about bugs. I hate them. I am more scared of them than anything else in the world. I'm talking all bugs (except butterflies of course.) And spiders are the absolute worst. So, needless to say, I feel the spider smack my face and I begin screaming bloody murder. Seriously. I'm not exaggerating. At this point I'm dancing around brushing every part of my body off to check for the spider. Screaming. Almost crying. Full blown freaking out.

And then I look up. And whom do I see standing there looking at me in astonishment? The basketball boy. Turns out he was going for an after-game jog. Great. I can't remember the last time I was so embarrassed. I swear it was the perfect set up for a sitcom. He laughed and seemed to be understanding as I explained my bug phobia... but will he still call me? Well, now that he's seen my screaming, spider-searching frenzied dance, I fear that it may no longer be the case. (Honestly, I don't care becauses I don't think I'm really looking for anything right now anyway.) And I learned my first upteenth lesson that there is truth behind the saying that pride comes before the fall.

Other Lake Observations:
  • I saw a woman smoking while running. She had on a sports bra and shorts, with a pack of cigarettes tucked into her shorts. Her cigarette was lit and she was running. Kind of a living example of an oxymoron, ya think?
  • I went to school in North Carolina. In the south, you smile and even sometimes say hello to everyone you walk by. It's just the way it's done. So when I run by people at my lake, I always smile. I noticed yesterday that almost every guy I passed smiled back and almost every girl did not. I don't get it. It's not like we're out at a bar competing for guys (like I'd do that anyway), we're just all out running or walking to stay in shape or relax. Why not just smile back?
  • I passed a pack of ghetto people smoking pot a little bit off the path. One of them shouted at me, "don't worry girl, you'll work that baby weight off in no time". And then they all laughed like there was no tomorrow. The little jackasses. (I heard this because I was no longer listening to music because after the spider incident I threw my walkman on the ground and lost one of the batteries.)
Also last night, much to the entertainment of the family behind me, I walked right into the automatic door at Target. Apparently it wasn't working. And I found my new favorite teeny-bopper popstar - her name is Kaci Brown.

And that's about it.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Thanks!

Thanks to everyone for your funny and nice comments about my previous post! I especially think that this is hilarious! (And I liked this and this too.)

I doubt I'll get anymore nasty comments outta that chick :-) I'd be surprised if I ever hear from her again, for that matter!

Imagine this scenario, if you will...

Let's just say that there is a girl named Sara and a couple named Jeff and Kacey.

Sara and Jeff have known each other for years. Sara's met Kacey a few times when hanging out with Jeff. Sara and Jeff have never hooked up or had feelings of a romantic nature for each other; they are very much like brother and sister.

Now let's say that about two months ago, Jeff and Sara were hanging out a lot, as Sara went through a drinking phase in which she wanted to go out all the time and Jeff lives very close to many bars. Kacey hung out a lot as well, as she and Jeff rarely do anything apart. And let's stress one more time about how platonic Sara and Jeff's relationship is.

Perhaps one night about a month and a half ago, Sara receives a phone call from a number that she doesn't know. She answers to hear a girl on the other end screaming at her. This girl calls Sara some really nasty names and, as though back in middle school, threatens to "kick her ass". Sara laughs and when she can finally get a word in edgewise, she asks whom it is that she is speaking to. The girl on the phone identifies herself as Kacey. Sara remains calm and asks Kacey what this is all about. Kacey continues to scream random and stupid things at Sara. So Sara hangs up on Kacey and calls Jeff to see if he knows the answer.

And this is where things get a little tricky. Here is how the conversation might have gone:

Sara: Jeff, hey. What's Kacey's deal?
Jeff: What do you mean?
Sara: Well, she just called and threatened me, poor thing. And she keeps calling my phone and won't give me an explanation.
Jeff: Oh no. OK Sara, please don't take this the wrong way. You know that we've always just been friends and I am in love with Kacey, right?
Sara: Yeah. I know.
Jeff: Well, I swear I have no clue where this came from, but yesterday when Kacey and I were... um... you know...
Sara: Having sex?
Jeff: Yeah. Well, I accidentally said your name. But please don't think anything of it! I really only think of you as a friend, ok? Don't get all weirded out.
Sara (a little bit weirded out): Um. What? Jeff, that is f***ing crazy.
Jeff: Yeah, I know. And Kacey's not taking it well at all. But I told her that there's nothing between you and me. She won't believe me.
Sara: Poor girl. I'd be really upset if someone did that to me too. Maybe I'll try to talk to her.

They hang up, but to this day their friendship remains slightly altered.

Kacey continues to call Sara's phone and finally Sara picks up. Kacey is still screaming at her. Sara tells her she knows the story and she's so sorry and that Kacey should please believe that nothing's ever happened between her and Jeff and that Jeff is completely in love with Kacey.

Kacey continues to yell and threaten Sara. Sara tells Kacey that she understands that she's upset but that she's going to hang up because this situation is really between Jeff and Kacey. Sara then hangs up.

Kacey calls Sara's phone all night. Sara would normally just turn her phone off, except she has a date the next night and he's supposed to call her. Sara finally gets fed up. She answers and before Kacey can yell, Sara tells Kacey that it's not her fault that Kacey's so dull in bed that Jeff has to think about other girls. Kacey hangs up on Sara and stops calling. Sara feels bad, but at least Kacey stopped calling.

And now let us say that Sara went on her way and stopped thinking about the whole thing. And let's say that last night, Kacey left a comment on Sara's blog. The comment was really bitchy, which Sara can handle, but it gave out all of Sara's personal identification information, which Sara will not put up with. (The comment included Sara's full name, address, etc.) Luckily Sara was checking her email at the time and was notified of the comment and deleted it immediately.

Now let's fast forward to today, to me, and to my blog. If you leave another comment like that, or harass me in any other way, you'd better believe that your whole life story with details will be my next post. And believe me, I know your embarrassing details. I also know things about you that Jeff does not. You know what they are. And I will be MORE than happy to tell him. In fact, I'll write the post and specially deliver it into his email inbox. Both of his email inboxes, actually, to be sure that he sees it. So don't you forget it.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Don't hate the playa, hate the game



I do. I really hate the game.















I have girlfriends who swear by game playing. You gotta rope guys in by playing cat-and-mouse. Don't be too available. Don't show that you care as much as you do, but do flirt enough so that they know that there is an underlying interest. Because it will give them enough motivation to go on to stay with you but not enough to feel secure - that way you'll always have the upperhand.

And then there are the guys. Don't show emotion. Don't tell how you feel - don't even admit it to yourself. Always choose friends and other things over her - because she can not know how important to you she is. Because that gives her an advantage over you. And you might lose face.

And I have to say that I think it's bullshit. It's annoying and it's frustrating. Because for those of us who don't like to play games - well, it's just too bad. If you don't play games and the other person does, you'll always feel like they're not really interested. You feel insecure about the relationship and can sometimes get suckered into playing the games right back. It's an ongoing cycle and it's so annoying.

Some people play games without even knowing it; that's how natural game playing is in the dating world. They play games to the point that they begin to believe that it's the real way that relationships work.

Some people seem like they're playing games when they're really not. They're just different about the way they handle relationships than you are - which makes you think they're playing some game because everyone thinks that they have the right ideas about the way relationships should be.

Personally, I go back and forth. I hate playing games, but I do play them sometimes. I admit it. I think that they are SO stupid. And I try my hardest not to play - but it's easy to get sucked in.

Well. OK, it's different if you just want to hook up with someone - or date them casually. Then you flirt the whole time and it's a different type of game playing. It's fun and just flirtatious. That's it. It's not like you're trying to get the upperhand or anything because you're not that serious about the person.

But if you could see yourself really with a person, why play games? To save face? To keep your pride? To avoid the hurt of rejection? Come on. Think about it. Speaking with the Celebutante yesterday, on the way home from work, she made a very valid point. If you play games with someone you're just delaying the inevitable. You're either going to be with them, or your not. They either want to be with you, or they don't.

Think I'm wrong? Well how's this for an example:

Maybe by playing the 'unavailable game' someone will think they want you because they can't have you. But in the end, when those feelings settle, you'll be left facing their real feelings - which may be different than the feelings that you provoked by being unavailable in the first place.

So what? You can just continue playing games of unavailability to keep them interested? Fine. But then you better resign to the fact that the person you're playing with may never fall for the real you. How can someone care about the real you if they only ever get to know the façade of a person under which you play games? Can you ever really be happy knowing that someone's with you because of who they think you are instead of who you really are?

On Drunk Dialing


As the self-proclaimed queen of drunk dialing and having been the recipient of a few recently, I've come to the realization that (friendship calls aside) there are really two types of drunk dials, A and B.

DD A: The one that you do not want to make at all when you're sober. This call goes out to the person that you really like. It's too hard for you to tell them how you feel in person, but when you're drunk it seems like a great idea. You forget when you're drunk, that they're in a position to reject and/or hurt you when you open yourself up to them. But you're confident that regardless of what they say you're alcohol content will be cushion enough to avoid any bruises. However, the cushioning is short-lived until you remember what you said the next day. You know that feeling... you might be hung over, but happily walking through the grocery store the next afternoon and then the first flashback - similar to a hotflash - of the conversation hits you. And you realize what you've said. You have three options from this point forward. You 1) go with it and see what happens, 2) act as though you don't remember what you said, 3) play it off as though you drunk dialed everyone in your phonebook and laugh it off to show that you didn't mean what you said. (Although with option 3, you're secretly hoping that they'll say that they wish you'd been serious because they care about you too, blah blah.)

DD B: The one that goes out to the people still interested in you. (Or at least that's what you think when you're drunk.) If drunk dial A does not go well, you often resort to Drunk Dial B. (Or sometimes, your drunk enough to drunk dial, but sober enough to make DD A.) You flirt. They flirt. Sexual innuendos are made, but not always followed through. But you certainly end up feeling better about yourself. And the person on the other line does as well. For that night. The next morning you don't really care about what you've said because you didn't mean it and most likely it's a regular occurrence and just not a big deal. More often than not, the recipient of your call already knows that you were just drunk and lonely and calling just to flirt with them. Careful though, sometimes this can still hurt a person's feelings.


And sometimes, when you're on the receiving end, it can be impossible to tell which DD option you are, A or B. Sometimes it can make all the difference in the world. And sometimes, it just doesn't matter at all.

PS. I don't think I'd mind if the guy in the picture DD'ed me... ;-)

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

NYC + Credit Card = TROUBLE



To go along with Sara's most recent post about spending money we don't have, or did have, but lost, I'd like to announce that today I have received my FIRST credit card ever.

Spending limit? $1000.

What's a girl to do with herself in New York City and a brand new never before been used credit card?

It should be illegal, shouldn't it?

Part of me wants to get off work and run to Coach, Louis Vuitton, Prada...and just swipe away. Then I think realistically, and shit, I can't REALLY afford any of that right now, let alone all of it at once! (Which would be every girl's dream!)

For some reason Carrie Bradshaw (a la Sex and the City) could afford all of that. I watch the episodes every night before I go to bed. In one episode Carrie comes to the realization that she has spent nearly $40,000 on her shoes...which is the result to her current financial woes.

Do I want to end up like Carrie? Hell no. Is it easy to end up like that? Hell yes.

Dangling a credit card in front of a girl is like dangling a play station remote in front of a guy telling him the brand new Madden 2006 is in the player...its just TOO tempting to NOT use.

I'm going to try to be strong, dammit. It's just so easy to live the high life for a temporary moment and not think about the future consequences. Someone, please, give me good reasons NOT to use this puppy in NYC before my poor card ends up on crutches!

I have no self-control.



Remember how I said that I was excited about building my new professional wardrobe? Well, I shot myself in the foot with that one. Almost literally.

My last day at my current job is next week. I start my new job in the beginning of September and won't get paid until October 1. This leaves the entire month of September paycheckless. No big deal right? I'm supposedly a mature and responsible girl.

So I figured I'd give up going out for a little while. No big deal. Cut back on drinking and going out, watch a few more movies, spend more time exercising and less time spending money... And I'd just spend a little bit of money to buy some professional clothes for my new job.

Well.

In the past two days alone, over lunch/shopping with the Celebutante, I've spent almost $300. Over the weekend, I spent a whole lot more than that - I refuse to list the amount because it's quite embarrassing. Since Saturday, (yes, I'm aware that it's only four days ago), I've purchased five - that's right FIVE - new pairs of shoes.

So that's it. I'm done. I have no will power. I am very angry with myself. I will not be able to go out or do ANYTHING for the next month and a half. Actually, for the next month in a half - to borrow part of a quote from Carrie Bradshaw - I could quite possibly be the little old lady who lived in her shoes... and her new Ann Taylor Loft wardrobe.

Looking for a Piece of Ass?

Well. Perhaps this wasn't what you had in mind, but according to Hot 99.5's Hollywood Hotsheet this morning:
"Founding Monty Python member John Cleese will be selling pieces of his colon on his personal Web site. 'In case any of you have noticed that things have gone a bit quiet in the last few days," he writes on www.thejohncleese.com 'it is because the old man has decided to have some surgery to cure some digestive problems he's been having. The good news,' he adds, 'is that the infected bit which has been cut out by the surgeon will be offered for sale on the Web site in the next few days.'"

Yum. Any takers? Wait. Nevermind. I have no desire to know, you sickos.

Monday, August 15, 2005

My biggest pet peeves...



1. Standing with a group of friends when one friend isn't thinking and slightly turns their back to me suddenly excluding me from the circle.

2. Going out somewhere with a boy who feels that it's necessary to check out every girl who walks by. Come on now. I check out a lot of boys when I'm out with my friends, but when I'm with someone I'm dating, or on a date, I'm respectful and I pay attention to whom I've chosen to spend my time with... And I expect the same in return.

3. At the mall:

  • People who walk slowly in groups with out caring that they're causing a hold up behind them.
  • People who walk up stairs and stop to discuss something causing a traffic jam on the stairs behind them.
  • Couples who find it necessary to make out. You love each other. Great. Get a room.
  • People who find it necessary to cuss in front of children.
  • Cashiers who move at a turtle's pace. Not to fold the clothes neatly... But just because they could care less that there's a line of people who have other places to be.
  • Parents who think it's ok to scream at their children.
  • The people who work at the kiosks who single me out and try to drag me in to promote whatever product they're selling. Hello - if I was interested, I'd come over by myself.

4. Running consistently for 3 days in a row and not seeing immediate results. (I know it takes time... blah blah...) I'm just really bad at sticking to habits. I tire of things very easily. Exercising, Dieting, Relationships... Wait a second, maybe I just figured out why I have trouble keeping relationships...

5. People who judge me for judging other people. We all judge. I'm just honest about it.

6. Bosses who micro-manage.

7. Being called stupid. Even in a joking manner.

8. The fact that I am a huge procrastinator and no matter how hard I try not to be, I always leave things until the last minute. Seriously. I've been working on this for ages and have not changed a bit.

9. People who do not call when they say that they're going to.

10. People who make plans and have no intention of carrying through with them. (All though, I have done this occasionally...) At least use a parachute when making the plans... Ex: "Yeah, that sounds great... I want to do it, but I may have to {insert whatever here} instead. I'll let you know though."

11. Having things thrown on me at the last minute. I try to be a go with the flow girl. And most of the time I am. But when someone throws something out at me last minute, it throws me into panic mode. I always quickly get over it, but it still happens.

12. Not having a specific place for everything to go. I have so much stuff. Deep down, I'm a neat freak. But if I don't have enough space for my stuff, I get messy. And it pisses me off.

13. Having a messy car. Mine is always messy. And it kills me. But please refer to #8.

14. People who wear sunglasses at night. The only people who do think they look cool and come off as trying WAY too hard. (Sorry Captain)

15. People who don't return my smile when I go run past them. What's wrong with being friendly?


16. Old men who stand outside in their tighty-whiteys.

17. Tighty-whiteys.

18. People who don't cut their toe nails.

Your turn to rant... Anything to add?

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Friday, August 12, 2005

I miss you, homeslice


I've been pretty idle in the blogging world recently. I'd have to say that moving to NYC, starting my new job, and adjusting to the lifestyle would pay a toll! Nonetheless, I have not forgotten my fellow peers. And I'd like to say one thing: I MISS DC!

I've been here three weeks so far. Here is a quick recap:

Week One: Stepping out of Penn Station was like an immigrant coming to the US through Ellis Island. I was flushed with joy and anticipation of the opportunities that NYC would give me. I became the ultimate tourist. I "did" Times Sqaure. David Letterman. The Improv. Bed NY. SoHo. TriBeCa. Canal Street. I was having a blast - and I was by myself! I was so excited I paid no mind to the horrible smells, dirty subways, and some of the largest rats on the face of this earth. Really. They are better fed than my two dogs.


Week Two: The blissful tourist chic runs out of speed, and a new outlook of the city overtakes the old outlook. What is that horrid smell while I walk to work? It smells like a farm, but its the city. Eww! Manure. Urine. Horses and carriages = not as glamorous as they look in the movies. The smell will kill you. The subway, my god, when is the last time they cleaned the metal poles and windows? I'm afraid to touch anything! Yeeks, some homeless person just declared to everyone that he is HIV positive and needs food and money. Time Square has become a place I want to stay FAR away from - the overzelaous tourists flood the streets. I walk down the street and get hoots and hollers (typical - but WAY more than usual.) I'm beginning to feel that the bigger the city the lonlier it is. Then it hits me. I miss my home. I miss my friends. I miss the cleaner streets of DC and the more "yuppie" crowd. I walk up my street heading for home right off Broadway and see two of my neighborly rats scurry in my path. I scream in disgust. I've had enough.

Week Three
: I'm becoming immune to the dramatic homeless people on every street corner. I feel horrible for that - but what else can I do? Give them money? I can barely afford to live for myself, let alone pay a homeless tax to those who will take it and use it for drugs and booz. Thank god for my iPod or I would never be able to block everything I see and hear on the subway. At least it gets me to where I need to go quick and cheap. I'm making friends at work, so I find myself staying at work much longer than usual - at least 12 hour days, because I feel most comfortable there. If I could, I'd work 24 hours. It's becoming my safety net. Going out is okay, I feel that people talk up the NYC night life, but you know what? Its not about where you are, its about who you're with. And without my friends, I could be at the coolest club, and its still sucks. Quality, not quantity, people. NYC has over 20,000 bars and resurants, yet without a close knit group to go to these places with, its awful. Now I am not saying Im a homebody and havent made the best of where I am, of course I am doing that. It just takes time to adjust, we all know this. But the rats, the rats man, I'll never adjust to that.

So I've decided that I need a dose of home. I'll be back in DC next weekend. Chinatown bus type. What can I say? I ride in style! Have a great weekend DC! I miss you!

On Lunch...

Yeah. So some coworkers and I ordered Chinese for lunch. I got my usual - chicken in spicy garlic sauce. Delish.

Except for the fact that another coworker came into the kitchen and said that it smelled really good, even if I was eating a cat disguised as chicken.

First of all, how rude. Second of all, I promptly lost my appetite. So much for lunch today. Damn it.

Um... WTF?

I see some random referring URLs for The Butterfly Network. BUT, apparently, we came up when somebody did a search for "Women with little boys"... Along with a bunch of disgusting (and probably illegal) porn sites. That's gross.

Great. And now we'll probably come up with it again because I wrote about it. So for anyone who finds TBN through that search - YOU'RE A SICKO!




Oh and on a total side note... Sorry I missed out last night!

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Inappropriate Office Encounters... Rant # 1

I'll begin by saying that my office does not have a professional dress code. It's been kind of nice to wear jeans on occassion. Although, my new job does have one. And, being the girl that I am, I'm certainly excited about building my new professional wardrobe. However, I digress.

There's a woman at my office who, apparently, was never taught the difference between appropriate work clothes and inappropriate work clothes. Regardless of the dress code.

Yesterday she wore a shirt that was sheer at top and solid white below. Well, the sheer top part stopped right above her nipples. She wasn't wearing a bra. You could see the undercurve of her breasts through the material. And nobody wants to see that. And perhaps the male readers are thinking that they would, in fact, like to see this? Well, let me tell you: they're not nice boobs. They're not perky or full. They're flappy-looking and unattractive. So, I repeat, nobody wants to see that.

And today, she is just wearing a white tanktop with no bra. It's just bad. I don't know why her superior hasn't talked to her about what she wears. And I just am forced to wonder how some people look in the mirrors and are content with what they're wearing. I understand that everyone has different styles. That's fine. The world is better that way. But what this woman wears is not a fashion statement. It's a blatant attempt to flaunt her (nonexistant) sexuality in the workplace. And, again. Sometimes that's ok. If you have a sharp work outfit that makes you feel sexy, you go for it. Wear it. Be proud and confident. But, for the love... Don't do it if it makes you look like trash. Ug.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

A 'Cure' for Speeding Tickets?


Well, considering I've been given 3 speeding tickets in the past 3 months... I would really like to purchase this new type of Swedish Insurance!

You are given coverage for up to 3 speeding tickets a year, as long as you are not going more than 30 miles over the speed limit. You can also buy coverage for parking fines. Of which I have two tickets outstanding.

Please bring this insurance to the US asap!

Wild On Tara (Reid, that is)



The one hour series premier of Wild on Tara will be tonight at 10 p.m. On E!, of course.

I'm not sure what to think. I don't know if I'll watch it. I loved Tara back in her Carson Daly and Van Wilder days (click the links to see her in those days)...

She just seems so skanky nowadays. Although I do think she looks cute in the above picture. Maybe hosting the show will bring her out of her trashy, drugged out (looking), party girl slump? I really used to like her. But I'm not getting my hopes up.

Either way, it sounds like a really fun job! Some Tara Reid quotes:

"In Greece in Mykonos, we went sea-urchin diving. They looked like porcupines. You crack them open, and clean it out, and put a little lemon and olive oil on it, and it's an aphrodisiac. It puts oysters to shame! And it worked, too, I'm not kidding. My whole body was feeling a little too great."

"In Cyprus, we went to this little village and found this restaurant. We were the only tourists there. It was all Cypriots. We ate the traditional food, did the traditional dances and drank liquor that was only produced there. And then they had this thing where they balanced glasses on their head. And this guy had maybe 30 glasses on his head. People were freaking out. Before I knew it, I had six glasses on my head. It was a blast."

And there you have it, folks.

OH and also, E! True Hollywood Story is running an hour on the Simpson Family this Sunday!

Monday, August 08, 2005

Today...


Bored today... So here's a list of a few things going on with me:

Not fun. Getting a manicure and then chipping one nail so that it's all jagged and not having a file at work to fix it, thus biting it all the way down and looking slightly like trailer trash (from a digital perspective).

Fun. Sending sexy emails/IMs while at work to make the day go by quicker.

Not fun. Waiting to find out if your salary negotiation skills are worth anything.

Fun. Knowing that no matter what the final offer is, you're finally getting out of a job you don't like and into one that's quite exciting.

Not fun. Hitting a creative standstill about what to write on the blog. (In case you can't tell by this post.)

Fun. Realizing it's 2 o'clock and the work day is over in 3 hours.

Not fun. Realizing you need to tack at least 1.5 hours to those 3 hours due to traffic on the way home.

Fun. Having a friend get a job right next door: meaning another lunch buddy (at least until the new job starts).

Not fun. Missing another friend who lives in a different big city...

Any add ons?

Friday, August 05, 2005

NOTE: to drivers


If you're driving on a one lane road, and the speed limit is 35, and you are going 25, I will tailgait the hell out of you. And when I finally get by you, you can give me a dirty look all you want... Expect one right back, buster.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Waving The Flag!

I'm calling a truce!

First, I'd like to say THANK YOU to the many lovers and haters alike who chose to comment on my profiling blog. Clearly this is an issue of importance to many, and I'm glad we were all able to share our thoughts and feelings.

Second, I would like to formally apologize to any reader who took offense to it, for that was NEVER my intention. I was interested in getting comments/thoughts as to better ways we could find a potential terrorist on our subways, and profiling has been a hot topic in the news and government recently, so I chose to dicuss it.

For some, profiling is not right and never will be. For others, it is something that needs to be done to ensure our safety. Some feel that in a time of war its necessary, others feel that it never will be.

After being called a racist, a terrorist supporter, and other hurtful things (We even made it to Rants Craigslist.com), I'd like to say this: Attacking someone for having the courage to write about a touchy and gray subject matter and in turn asking the opinion of readers, is just wrong. I of course do understand that by putting myself out there in the blogosphere there is plenty of room to get criticized, but I'd just like to reach a happy medium where we can all recognize our differences and refrain from unnecessary name calling.

No one here is a racist or a terrorist supporter. We all know this.

So lets move on from our differences and be friends again, k? Cheers :-)



EAR TO EAR!















Oh man. I can't stop smiling! I JUST GOT A JOB OFFER! (For a company that I've wanted to work for since last summer...)

Seriously, I'm not going to be getting much work done for the rest of the day!

More money. Better Location. So happy right now.

Blogging 101



By the time you finish reading this sentence, four new blogs will have been created. Wait, now five... Now six... Blogging has become so popular that a new blog is now created every second. That's a whole lotta blogs...

However, "the statistics show not everyone who starts a blog stays the course. Although the blogosphere has doubled in size in just over five months, only around half of all blogs are 'active' - in other words they have been updated in the past three months - and just 13% are updated every week or more often."

Bloggers who have made something of themselves through their blogs: (found these online, so the write ups about each one is not my writing.)
  • Belle de Jour, a London Call Girl got herself a book deal and a Channel 4 drama based on her stories,
  • Salam Pax, 'Baghdad Blogger', an Iraqi who blogged while the invasion of Iraq in 2003 was building up turned into an international commentator on Iraqi affairs and got a column and a book deal.
  • Ellen Simonetti, Queen of the Sky, wrote an anonymous semi-fictional account of her life as a flight attendant. It got her in trouble. She was suspended by Delta Airlines for posting 'inappropriate images' on her blog, one of which showed her draped across seats inside one of the airline's planes.
  • And everyone knows about Jessica Cutler...

I could go on, but I just wanted to show that, although it's rare, sometimes people do make names for themselves (albeit not always positive ones) through blogging.

FYI - New blog statistics and analysis are being posted every night this week by Technorati’s CEO David Sifry on his own blog.

And now, my own personal little rant on blogging etiquette:

I think it's rude when you are trying to 'promote' your own blog and to do so you leave a comment, completely unrelated to the post's topic. The comments that are like this:

"Hi, great blog! Check mine out here! [insert blog address]."

Ug, it's my biggest blogging pet peeve. If you leave a comment, have something to say about the post - or a response to another person that's commented. I'll check your blog out if I've never seen your name before. But if you just take up space just to promote your own blog/website, I probably won't even bother.

[Insert sound of me stepping off soapbox here.]

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Is It Time To Profile?


Okay, okay. Before I get all the haters calling me a racist bigot and what not, hear me OUT. There are even politicians calling for this to happen in a time of war. Democratic and Republican politicians.

NYC has recently adopted the idea that randomly searching bags on subways will ease tensions of riders and make us feel safer. And maybe they'll even find what they are looking for - a bomb, or lip gloss, or granny's rosary, whatever. DC might even adopt the random bag searches as well.

I ride the subway every day. In case anyone is worried about cops racial profiling people, let me put you at ease.
I am a young, brown haired, brown eyed, Scottish/Italian woman. I come to work dressed in a yellow tube dress from Le Chateau, a black sweater and black stilletos, with my black work bag. My toes are neatly manicured and pedicured. I wear knock-off Gucci sunglasses. I pose no threat whatsoever to society. Someone will simply look at me and think, 'harmless.'

And still, I got pulled out randomly to have my bag searched. Whats to be found in a 22 year old woman's work bag? My iPod, Bonnie Bell Lip Gloss, Cell Phone, notebook, folders with notes, and a pink feather pen.


I smirked when the cop asked if he could search my bag. I didn't mean to and I felt bad for doing it, but COME ON. Do I look like I pose a threat on the subway? Do I LOOK like I would carry a bomb? We BOTH knew we were wasting time. From the time it took me to place my bag on the mantle, open it, and have it searched, someone with an actual bomb could have easily squeezed through. All while the cop searched the girl in the too-high heels and bright yellow tube dress.

The random searches on the New York subways are a response to the recent bombings in London. Who was it that bombed the London subways? Young Muslim/Islamic men. Who flew planes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon? Young Muslim/Islamic men. Who are we fighting a war against terrorism? Young Muslim/Islamic men. And please, if I am wrong on that note, explain to me WHO else it could have been based on the evidence we have collected thus far.

In any case of being politically correct, we certainly are. But how far is this PC going to go? Until a bomber enters our subway and blows it up? Is THAT when we are going to start racial profiling?

Of course I feel safer with the cops prescence at subway stations. And I actually feel good knowing they are searching bags, even if it is mine. But is that the point to all of this? To make us FEEL safer, when we actually really aren't?

Honestly, I don't know if it's time to start profiling. I don't agree with racial profiling, but in a time of war, is it necessary? I'd like to know your thoughts.

Martinis are like breasts

So this past weekend my friend Lauren and I went to visit Lil in NYC. Oh man. I am IN LOVE with the city. I am so in love in fact, that I am going to begin applying for jobs in NYC immediately. (Unless I'm offered this other job that I just interviewed for on Monday... that, however, is another story.)

Anyway, here is the weekend recap:

First of all, it took roughly 7 hours to get to the city. Lauren and I took the Chinatown bus, which (surprisingly) was fairly clean and not that bad at all. However, there was a suicide jumper on I-95, which meant the entire road was closed. 190,000 traveling cars were forced to take a one-lane detour through some part of Maryland. It sucked. A lot. We didn't get to NYC until, I'd say around 1:30 am. We didn't get to Lil's place until at least 2:15. But, while waiting to hail a cab, we met a DC United player and his girlfriend. The girlfriend was absolutely beautiful... The soccer player was one of hottest guys that I'd ever seen in my entire life. Looking through the roster online, I believe that it was Matt Nickell. But, I swear to you, the picture does not do him justice. He does not look like that. He's SO much better looking than his photograph lets on. (His hair is also very blonde now...)

As a quick side note, after looking through the DC United roster, I must say we have some HOT DC soccer players. Obviously I love the team anyway, being from DC and all. Plus, I know Clyde Simms (not well though, but well enough to know he's really nice) from ECU.

So Friday night was a movie night, because we got in so late and Lil had to work early on Saturday morning. But on Saturday, we did it all. We went down Canal Street (first photo is when from right after we left Canal Street) and shopped in SoHo... And basically went broke. I literally bought three pairs of sunglasses. Ridiculous. We stopped for a delicious lunch (& a much needed, ice cold beer) in Little Italy (second and third photos).

















After hours of walking/shopping/unnecessarily spending money we were exhausted. So, obviously, we were forced to go back to Lil's and lay down to watch 2 hours of Sex and the City.

Next up, nightlife NYC baby! For dinner, we walked across the street to a little Mexican place, Mama Mexico (picture of Lil & me). Good food, not-too-expensive Coronas... all and all a great time. A little mariachi band to set the Mexican mood...

And then we were off to Bed NY! It was amazing. You're supposed to have reservations. Woops. But we managed to get in because the bouncers thought we were cute (being female certainly has its perks). I watched tons of other groups get turned away. Especially groups with out reservations that had guys with them... It's not fair, but hey... it's how it is.

The bouncers let us through the door and we walked into this little hallway and they shut the door behind us. And all of the sudden we started going up - it was really an elevator! We got off, walked up some stairs and were there. At this amazing bar. There are HUGE beds all around and the bartenders are very attractive. We managed to sweet talk our way up to the rooftop (where you're also supposed to have reservations) and it was AMAZING. A huge open area with beds around the outer parimeter and tables in the middle. You could see the lights of the entire city all around. They played sexy club-ish (chill and relaxing, not really 'dancey') music the entire time. Drinks were between $12 & $14 (our drinks were, anyway). So we stuck to two martinis a piece. But, a friend of Lil's explained to me that martinis are like breasts... More than two and it's just scary. And, it certainly can be scary when they're made the way BED makes them ;-) I stuck to one martini and one fabulously strong and yummy drink with crushed strawberries... (I forget what it was called however... but you can see it in the pic.)

After we went to BED, we hit up Joshua Tree (a bar & restaurant). This bar was more upbeat and we had a great time. Drinks were less expensive ($7-ish) and they played 80s (and some early 90s) music the whole time. The best part was that they had TVs all over the place and whatever song was on, the music video would be playing. We walked in to M.C. Hammer's "Can't Touch This". It was sweet.

But, Joshua Tree was SLAMMED. And after a while, we wanted to go somewhere more spacious, to dance. We hopped right next door to Bar 515.

Me, Lauren & Lil at Bar 515

Before we went in, I met an Irish boy. (Lil & Lauren, having boyfriends, let me be the one to flirt of course.) He was pretty cute and the accent added about 1000 hot points from the beginning. He said his name was Thomas and that he plays a new character, Bruce, on the NBC soap opera Passions. I can't find him anywhere on any cast list, so he was probably lying... But he already had the accent... He didn't need to lie about being on TV to up his game... But Lil and I doubt it was the truth, and until someone shows us otherwise, we're sticking to what we believe. His pic's here - he's next to me.
Me & Thomas (aka a fake soap opera star named Bruce)
Does anyone even watch Passions? And if so, have you ever seen him on it?

I have absolutely NO idea what time we made it home by. All I know is that Lil, Lauren and I had the BEST time all night long.

Sunday, before catching the bus back to DC, we did the whole Times Square trip. It was fun, and I did see the biggest Dove ad that I've ever seen before, but I don't think I'll need to do it again. It is very touristy and for the most part, once you've seen it, you've seen it. We did the whole Rockefeller Center thing too. And shopped in some super fun stores, like Louis Vuitton and Prada (to name a couple).
Just for you, DCB!

All in all, it was an absolutely fabulous time and I simply can not wait to go back!

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Nick Lachey SANS wedding ring!

Nick Lachey was spotted this past weekend at a party in NYC without his wedding ring and without his wife, Jessica Simpson.

Rumor has it that divorce papers have already been signed.

Developing...

So, we have a 10th planet in our solar system

My youngest sister recently informed me that a new planet has been discovered in our solar system... Listed below are some tidbits from news stories that I've gathered:
  • A California astronomer has discovered what he believes is the 10th planet in our solar system.
  • The new planet is currently known as 2003 UB313.
  • 2003 UB313 has been identified as the most distant object ever detected orbiting the sun.
  • An undisclosed name for the planet has been submitted to the International Astronomical Union.
  • The new planet orbits the sun once every 560 years and is now at its farthest point from Earth. In about 280 years, the planet will be as close as Neptune.
  • The planet‘s surface is believed to be predominantly methane, but its size -- about 1,700 miles (2,700 km) in diameter -- qualifies it as a planet.
  • Earth is about 7,900 miles (12,700 km) in diameter.
  • The new planet is believed to be part of the Kuiper Belt, a large ring of icy objects that orbit beyond Neptune and are believed to be remnants ofthe material that formed the solar system.
  • This data was released earlier than planned on due to a hacker threatening to publish it sooner.
  • The new planet went undiscovered for so long because its orbit is tilted at a 45-degree angle to the orbital plane of the other planets, and it travels in an elliptical orbit.
  • The claim that this object is a planet has already been contested.
  • Some astronomers view it as a Kuiper Belt object and not a planet.
  • The Kuiper Belt is a region of frozen objects beyond Neptune.
  • Pluto is called a Kuiper Belt object by many astronomers.
  • 2003 UB313 appears to be surfaced with methane ice, as is Pluto. That's not the case with other large Kuiper Belt objects, however.
  • NASA effectively endorsed the idea in an official statement that referred to 2003 UB313 as the 10th planet.
  • The rest of the news stories have this same information in them...

ps - hopefully I'll get the fun NYC post up later this evening :-)

Monday, August 01, 2005

Homeless or Ivy League? How about in the middle!

So I survived my first week in NYC. There are begging homeless people everywhere. On the streets. On the subway. I think homeless people account for half of the NYC population. They hang outside my place, even on my steps, as if they are the ones that live there. I actually feel bad for not feeling sorry for them, if that makes sense. After a long day of work, the LAST thing I need is someone begging me for money just so they can get their latest heroin fix for the evening, after I slaved away at work just so I could survive in this so-called overpriced city. Whew, anyway, glad I got that off my chest. Moving on.

One difference I have come to notice are the mannerisms in the male kind here, especially when I am going out for the evening. In D.C., I feel that guys just grope and grind girls at their own will, without even asking their name. The lack of respect for women in a bar is apparent in my eyes, after being touched from my shoulder to waist to ass all while trying to buy myself a damn cranberry and vodka. But in NYC, I have found a different annoyance in the men. Sure, unwanted groping happens everywhere, not just DC, but less in NYC than DC, or so I have found.

The guys here actually try to make conversation with you. And not once, NOT ONCE, have I been asked the SIGNATURE DC question: "So, what do you do?" Instead, its been more of 'hey, we're all out to have a good time and leave it at that.' I love this attitude.

But not too much attitude.

While out with the girls on Saturday night at Joshua Tree (after we left Bed,) a decently attractive young man sparked up a conversation with me. Come to find out, he went to school with a friend of mine, and not just any school - Harvard. After he revealed to me where he went to school, I felt a sudden change come about. I actually felt uncomfortable, not on my part, but the way he was making me feel - the "I went to an Ivy League school attitude." And not a good attitude. An overly-confident, cocky, I'm better than you attutitude that made my stomach cringe. Suddenly this young man became unattractive and rude, so I went with it. I flat out told him he was strange. He tilted is head back and laughed, the little cock.

I left and he proceeded to hit on the next girl that was appealling to his eye. I mean, why not? He had every right to, after all, he IS a Harvard grad. Pfff. Funny while being a graduate from such a prestigious school, I've never had more of an uninteresting and unenlightening conversation than I did with this guy.

I hope this doesn't speak for all Ivy League grads, and I am sure it doesn't. But if you did go Ivy League, congrats, and now please get your head out of the clouds and join the rest of society on planet earth, where we are all grads from various schools and are just as interesting and intelligent as you think you are. Cheers!