Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The suit. Ew. The bangs. Ew.

The other day, a friend of mine, LL, was in a bad/sad mood so I told her I had just the cure to cheer her up. No it wasn't alcohol, silly. She had taken care of that part already herself. It was the video montage from my Bat Mitzvah. That's right folks, I thought I would make my friend feel better by having her watch me at one of the most embarrassing and ugly stages of my life: middle school. And not just middle school. She was going to bare witness to the day, according to Judaism, where I became a woman. So why would this make her feel better you ask? Because she has only known me for 2 years, and although we are super close, she only knows the stunning,  awesome, hilarious "me" of today, not 13-year old me awkward me with bangs, a long french braid, and a Neiman Marcus suit. (I refuse to post a picture!)  I thought this would make her laugh and bring a much-needed smile to her face. And I succeeded. Yes!

I myself had not seen this montage in a very long time. My mom just had a bunch of our family VHS tapes put on DVD so when I was home this summer, she gave me a copy of this DVD. I knew it would come in handy some day. By 30 seconds into the video, LL was smiling and laughing. At me. This was the whole point. She laughed at my bangs which were a big poofy mess. She watched my friends and I doing all the typical Bar and Bat Mitzvah choreographed dances, a congo line, snowballs, and even the hora (which even though she is not Jewish, insists she will have at her wedding.)  LL didn't know what a "snowball" was, which I then had to explain to her. (If you don't know what a "snowball" or even a "champagne snowball" is, it's a slow dance where one couple starts in the middle of a circle and they slow dance. The DJ then announces "snowball" or "champagne snowball" and the couple either hugs (regular) or kisses each other on the cheek (champagne), and finds a new partner to slow dance with. This goes on until the song ends or everyone has a partner.) LL pointed out how risqué this was for middle schoolers but found her reaction to be humorous . I didn't think it looked risqué now, nor did I at the time. My parents or friends of my parents were at almost all the Bar or Bat Mitzvahs I went to anyway, so nothing scandalous ever went down. LL also commented on my choice of slow dance partners which brought back many memories of my middle school crushes and made me of think where they are today.  Thanks Facebook. (In case you are wondering, my major middle school love interest is now happily married. Figures.)

As LL watched me boogie down to the Electric Slide she observed how I loved to dance even back then. My Bat Mitzvah was such a "dancy" one with all the cliché Bar and Bat Mitzvah songs that I still love today. But here was the kicker, the observation of the evening from LL that really cheered her up: she told me I looked like a young Hilary Clinton in my outfit. And let me clarify, this is strictly because of the suit I was made to wear. Nothing more. But at this point we were both laughing so hard, it was hard to catch our breath. She was right; that suit was ridiculous. It was a black skirt, with black camisole, and an ivory jacket with a black and gold collar. What had my mother made me wear? I specifically remember many arguments over that suit. It was very sophisticated, but I had wanted to wear a dress. She wanted me to in a suit since it was an afternoon party. A suit. Ew. At the time I hated it. Looking back at it now, I still hate it. I cringe looking at myself at 13, but at least I can look back at it now and laugh. Which is a good thing I guess. (But no surprise I didn't have a boyfriend then either.)

When she left my apartment, LL was in a much better mood than when she entered. Mission accomplished. Right before she left, LL spotted the picture on my bedroom wall of my family on the day of my Bat Mitzvah and laughed again.  It was then, that I promised her that whenever she is down again, I will take a picture of that picture and text it to her. It is guaranteed to make her giggle and make her feel better. Every little bit helps. And LL, the next time I am down, I expect nothing less than us making fun of pictures/videos of you in middle school. Just sayin'.




Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Sorry Carrie, we can't be friends

Sex and the City is now syndicated and on E! and Style Network multiple times a day. Even though I own the whole series on DVD (yes, the pink velvet book...thanks Mom...best Hannukah gift ever), I insist on watching old episodes on TV. Even without the graphic sex scenes and the swear words, I am still entertained. However, now that I am older and actually live in NYC, I can relate to it more than I did the first time I watched it. Being more mature than I was in my early twenties and having more life experiences, I now realize how irritating and cringe-worthy Carrie Bradshaw is. Ugh. I have known girls like her, and needless to say, we are not, and will not will be friends.

When SATC came out in 1998, I hadn't heard of it. I was a junior in high school and honestly, I didn't know anything about NYC or 30-something year old ladies and their sex lives. And I didn't really care. I mean, they were so old and I probably couldn't relate.  It wasn't a show that really caught on super fast within my group of friends and it wasn't until the summer going into my senior year of college that I really got up to speed.  One of my friends and I hunkered down in each others basements nights on end watching episode after episode until we caught up to the current season. The final season of SATC was going to air that year and I wanted to be able to watch it in real time. By this time, everybody was talking about the phenomena that was SATC and I wanted to be able to add my own two cents.  Sadness creeped up on me when the last episode ended even though it had only been a part of my life for such a short time. I was going to miss it.

Rewind to a few months later, and little ole me, who cried at overnight camp (that was only a week long and less than an hour from my house), moved to NYC. Was I going to live the life of a SATC lady? Probably not. I wasn't rich. Wasn't skinny. And didn't know a soul in NYC. However, soon enough, I had friends (still no money) and we were spending crazy nights out on the town and having brunch (Ess-A-Bagel counts, right?) in the morning discussing the previous night's shenanigans. There happened to be four of us and of course, because SATC was still uber popular, our conversations would always end up relating to an episode and of Carrie, Samantha, Miranda, and Charlotte. How would they would act in the situations we were in? Basically a WWCSMCD? Let me tell you this, I would never be a "Carrie" if I wanted to keep any of my friends.  She was needy, whiny, self-absorbed, insecure, obsessive, and the list goes on. As the main character of the show, she was the most unlikeable and the most annoying to me.  I would NEVER be friends with anyone like Carrie. Ever. And I don't think I am the only one. This article makes points that I could not have stated better myself about the show and about Carrie.  I am pretty sure that many of you who are fans of the show can't deny what he says. The author is really spot on.

Anyway, many years later, I still live in NYC. I have a totally different life than I did when I first moved here (new apt, a real job, new friends) and I couldn't be happier. Do I now live the life of the SATC ladies? Absolutely not. But do I want to? Kinda, sorta, sometimes...but mostly its when I pass the Christian Louboutin store on Fifth Ave and have to walk by very fast as to not leave a giant face print on the glass. I do however, have fabulous friends and we have fabulous times (on a WAY lower budget...but nonetheless fabulous times). And sometimes our morning-after stories could outdo any episode of SATC.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Wtf asshole?

So girl meets boy and they seem to like each other.  They may even go out a few times.  They  really seem to be into each other and then all of a sudden...nothing. He apparently fell off the face of the earth. Sounds pretty familiar right? Sounds pretty irritating, right? Same story over and over.  Talking to my friends, I hear stuff like this all the time. It sucks. Why do guys do that? Like myself, many of my friends are wonderful catches and any guy who doesn't see that is obviously a giant-disgusting-idiot-loser. But we still liked him. A lot. Ugh. His loss.

In the many convos I have had with my friends lately, the same two super annoying boy bad habits keep coming up and I want to address them briefly. The "I", "my", etc...in this story isn't necessarily me, but represents a situation I have either been in or a friend (or two, three, four, etc...) have been in.

Annoying boy habit #1. We meet and talk in the bar, have good convo and you ask for my number...but you never call. Wtf asshole?
So, we are having decent, if not good conversation. Dare I say it, we might be hitting it off. You are even buying my beers which is always a good gesture and greatly appreciated. However, as the night begins to end and we are both leaving, you ask for my number. Score. In typical excited-girl fashion, I immediately start planning ahead. What will I wear on our first date? Where will you take me? Will we make-out that night or is that slutty? Then two or three days later, I get into typical disappointed-girl fashion. Why isn't my phone ringing? Does it even work? Maybe he went out of town? Crap.  A week later, you still haven't called (and by call, I usually mean text). Why would you ask for my number and then not call? This is what I don't get.

Here's the thing dude: If you didn't ask for my number, I would NOT have cared. I would have thought it was a fun night and been on my merry little way. But you did ask for my number, so why didn't you use it? Advice for any guy reading this: If you aren't planning to call a girl, don't bother asking for her digits. You are in NO OBLIGATION to ask for it. She won't care if you don't ask. No skin off her back. But if you do ask, she will expect you to call. Got it? Good.

Annoying boy habit #2. We hang out and even hook up a few times. We communicate almost entirely via text. Then all of a sudden you don't reply to texts. At all. You just ignore me. Wtf asshole?
We have been hanging out a few times, even if it is after the bars at 3 in the morning, its still time together. And we still have fun. It has been discussed that we are not going to date, because you obviously have terrible taste (i.e. you don't like me). Then one night, I text you as per usual and you don't respond. In the words of Stephanie Tanner "How Rude!" I mean, did I do something wrong last time? Are you asleep? Are you with another girl? Do you never want to see me again? I don't really care what the issue is, but return my text! It's common courtesy to reply. Plain and simple.  So why don't you bother writing back? Do you think you will be leading me on? Are you trying to be a dick on purpose? Are you trying to give me a hint that you no longer want my company?

So here it is gentleman: an easy "Oh hey, I fell asleep early, sorry" will suffice as a response. Or a "I am with the guys" is also okay even if you aren't. Lie to me. I don't care, I just need something written back. I'll even take a "I am currently about to sleep with a hottie that is not you" because at least its a response.  It's something confirming my existence.  You can even take the mature route and tell me you are uninterested in me and I need to leave you alone. Some people may think that him not writing back is basically saying that. However, as females, we need guys to actually SAY IT to really believe it. But writing nothing is NOT OKAY. Its unacceptable, yet I keep coming back for more. Who is the jerk now? Is it me to keep texting you even though I know you won't respond or is it you for blatantly ignoring me? I am going to go with you, but I just can't resist torturing myself.  All I am asking for is a response and I will leave you alone. Maybe. Until next weekend. Kidding.




Sunday, August 28, 2011

Oh Irene

As previously mentioned, I love to talk about (and read about) guys/dating, poop, and pop culture/reality TV. I will most likely cover one, two, all of the above, or none of the above in my future blogs. Whatevs. This is still pretty new to me and I want it to be semi-cohesive, but I also want to share what I feel is valuable and/or funny or that something I just want to blab/vent about.  I also want people to actually read it, be entertained and enlightened (by my humor and brilliance, natch), and come back and read it again, and again, and again. Anywhoo, I am kind of counting this as the first official blog. Giddyup...

Obviously I can't ignore what everyone and their mothers have been talking about the last two days: Irene. Oh Irene, your bark seemed to be bigger than your bite. You really caused mass hysteria around here. But you certainly gave me a surreal NYC experience that I will never forget. I didn't feel the earthquake at the start of this week (I seriously felt jipped!!) but I kind of got a hint of you, Irene. I heard the rain and wind outside my window and you trapped me on the UES. But I am just grateful there seems to be no real tragedies on your behalf here.

And how can I mention a hurricane without the mention of it being an opportunity to meet guys. Duh. They obvi go hand in hand. What event isn't an opportunity or excuse to meet guys? Am I right ladies? And since I am always on the prowl, I was of course scoping out my very own Irene boyfriend (as long as the power doesnt go out and he would have to sleepover...ugh...annoying). How do meet your Hurricane bf? Well, look no further than this awesome advice article to snag one. I had no luck, but I have a feeling, nine months from now, there will be a big baby boom. But please people, do not name your daughters Irene. Lame.


So enough about Irene as she has taken enough of my time the last three days. And since I didn't find my Irene bf, I thought I would fantasize about my future had I found Mr. Right. And how can I do this? With the good ole game of M.A.S.H. Of course! Please, please, please tell me you know what M.A.S.H is before you have to check this link. As a single NYC lady, I found this to be rather humorous and it made me seriously want to create my own at that very moment if there were actually 4 guys I had even a mild interest in.  As middle schoolers, we all played it. If you didn't, you are lying to yourself or were socially awkward. I think we need to bring M.A.S.H back. Get some really fun markers and paper, and large quantities of alcohol and really play this game again. And if you want to take it to a creeper level, you and your friends can take your supplies to a bar and pick randoms in the crowd to put as your M.A.S.H males. Because, you know, I am sure that would make them even more interested in all of us staring, pointing, laughing and writing. Yep, the girls with all the markers at the table. Really desirable. But probably a really funny way to start a convo with a dude and hey, if it worked out, it would make a really great story someday. You can thank me later.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Let's give this a try...

So here I am, my last year in my twenties. Single. Female. Living in Manhattan. And pretty freakin' awesome. However, there has not been some strapping young gentleman to come and see how amazing I am quite yet.  I mean really, does he know what he's missing?! I know it sounds a little cocky, but I am seriously a catch. I have a good job that I really like, my own apt...I am athletic, smart, hilarious, fun...shall I continue???  But yes, unfortch Mr. Right hasn't come along yet.  And when he does, I will most def sweep him off his feet. I know you are probably thinking "ugh, another single girl in Manhattan" blog, but it won't be like that. 

I myself read a lot of blogs and my three favorite topics to read about and pass info on to my friends are: guys/dating, poop, and pop culture/reality TV.  Kind of random, but my friends seem to appreciate the links I forward and our conversations usually revolve around these topics anyway. (Hmmm...maybe all the poop talk is why I am still single?? Or maybe the burping...but I digress.) I will probably just use this blog as a way to post links for my friends and maybe share some of my funnier going out stories that aren't too embarrassing or my thoughts on the latest TV shows.  Yes, once again, kind of random, but thought I'd give it a try for a bit. Eh, who knows.  If the reality TV show that I am bound to star in about my life isn't gonna happen any time soon, I guess this is the next best thing.