In which, like many, I am Irish for a day

...and kind of rude

So as you may know, I've really been trying to be more social lately. The weather has improved, and that makes it a lot easier, but essentially...I'm putting in effort!

On Friday, after work, I decided to go out to impromptu drinks with someone I haven't seen in over a year. We've only ever hung out once, but we chit chat on facebook and occasionally via text, and we both needed a drink that day.

Let me first tell you why I needed a drink.

Thursday was a BRUTAL day at work. I was told by my boss I should take Friday off to recuperate. I had every intention of doing this, sitting at home, watching tv...you know, sulking. However, I went to send this one lowly email out to my Fellows, which I do every Friday, and lo and behold there is an email from one of the people I work with, basically saying I majorly fucked something up the day before.

I'm not one to let things like that go, and I ignored the text from my boss saying she was taking care of the issue.

I got to the office at 1pm and went through a traumatizing meeting at 3pm where I cried a little bit. It was kind of hard to deal with because on one hand my boss was saying how much she valued me and how great I was, and on the other hand, the person I messed the thing up for was telling me that I basically sucked. I got defensive. I just don't like doing a bad job. However, we're on the right track with the open communication and I'm improving in terms of these mini oversights that build up to be way bigger issues.

Needless to say (even if I've already said it), I needed a damn drink.

We decided to meet at the stumble, but thanks to it being happy hour on a Friday during March Madness, it was PACKED. So we went to this little quiet bar next door and drank beer and chatted. Then we went to the Stumble when happy hour was over. It was a lot of fun, definitely just nice and casual, good conversation, some shimmying here and there. It was a good time.

One of my favorite parts of the night was what I did when I was pretty tipsy. I wanted to play beer pong, so I went to see what the wait was like. There was a list on the wall and someone told me that most of those teams had already played, so I took it upon myself to ERASE THE ENTIRE BOARD. With my hand. And put only my name on top. Then I walked away and never came back.

I'm so classy.

Saturday, I had plans to go out with this girl whom I adore and will name Little D, because she's so little! Love her though.

Anyway, it being St. Patty's day in New York, I was considering doing the whole "day drink until you vomit green" thing, but instead I hung out at home.

We finally met up at 10pm. I was being really good and only brought a small mixed drink on the train, and a small bottle of ginger ale. I am really working on this black out situation! Little D was late, as usual, but whatever. We went over to Brother Jimmy's for wings and a Fish Bowl.

The fish bowl wasn't very strong, but it was perfect in a way, because it allowed us to gradually get tipsy. Then we went to meet up with one of her guys and his friends, but not before doing Irish Car Bombs at the bar and belting out Journey and dancing.

I told you we were classy.

At the first bar, we got a lot of vodka and a little bit of cranberry juice, because the bartender liked Little D.

Here are some of my favorite moments from that bar:

1. One of the friends we had met up with was wasted, and was kind of smelling D's neck...in front of his friend, who she was with. So we knew he had to go. Every time I saw him with a drink I would take it out of his hand and move it to the other side of the bar. I had never met this man before, and the look on his drunken face when I rook the beers was priceless.

2. We walked into the back room and there was a BIG girl on the pool table. I abruptly stopped, turned around, and exited the back room saying "It's time to go when there are fat people on the pool tables." I proceeded to explain how I used to be fat, and I wouldn't be caught dead on a pool table, because you never know how sturdy those things are.

I pretty much kept the drinks flowing until we were ready to go. I chatted with a lot of random people and had a lot of fun.

We went to Mercury Bar after that where we were a mess, but in a good way. Not sloppy, just not sober. 

-I convinced a girl that my family was from the same place as hers in Ireland.
-We somehow got beads, somehow. (By asking someone). Some guy asked me for one of my beads, and I responded with "What are you going to show me for them?" He lifted his shirt and showed his abs and chest, and I said "Sorry, not good enough, I really like these beads." And walked away.
-Danced with a lot of service men
-Kept losing D. I would go to look for her, and she would have just walked in the opposite direction looking for me.

D wanted fries from McDonald's and when we were on line this guy skipped her, and she called him out on it. He was a rude "model" and we told him that. Then I proceeded to tell him "You really shouldn't be eating greasy McDonald's your skin is not that great to begin with, and this won't help." Then we walked away. As we were leaving, I dropped D's french fries on the floor. All of them. I proceeded to tell them I was "Going to play my white card and get more."...I got a whole replacement order for free. The woman at the counter didn't even ask, she already had the fries ready because she saw me drop them.

Then I stole an orange from a street fruit man. Well...I was about to, because he was nowhere in sight. I ended up buying it and a nectarine.

Basically, it was a great night and I didn't black out at all!...That's a bit of lie though.

When I got home, I was texting Steel Pans and he was coming over. I unlocked the door, got myself into my pajamas, and the next thing I remember was waking up with no pants.

He did indeed come over though. Ah the things I do when I drink.

Yesterday, I went to a Trivia Meetup. Walked about 2-3 miles to get there. Drank a lot of beer. Had some of the answers. Had good conversations with professionals. It was a really good time. Had a hard time sleeping though, and so I came into work late.

Tomorrow I have a dessert making class, which means I can't go to dollar beer night, but I'm sure it will be delicious.

The return of the desperate

Do you ever wish that some people never came back into your life? Do you ever feel bad about wishing that?

That is the state that I'm in right now. I've decided to name the guy from my last "entry" EPT. Error Proof Testing, or his initial and Personal Trainer. Either way, EPT it is.

I really don't post blogs enough, because I probably should've told this story 2-3 days ago, but I guess the story didn't change and I feel some kind of way about it now.

So here's the thing with EPT, we still have chemistry. We have an absurd amount, and it feels comfortable with him. On Saturday, we were supposed to have dinner or something in the city. He got out of work late and asked if we could just hang out at his house with his family later in the evening and have a few drinks. I was fine with that, minus the fact that he asked me this after I had already gotten ready and I was feeling really good because I smelled delicious from my shower and I didn't want to lay in my bed and revert to bedhead. I managed to keep it together for 4 hours.

He doesn't live far from me, so I figured I'd drive, especially because the MTA was being a royal pain in the ass again (and will continue to be so for the rest of the month!).

I figured that any drinking that would be done could be undone with enough water before I got behind the wheel of my car. I don't drink and drive, y'all.

When 8pm rolled around I texted to ask if I should bring anything. Chips, salsa and OJ were my list. I start driving towards his house, driving down the avenue by my house to my neighborhood bodega to get all of my items. Someone takes the only parking spot on the block so rather than block traffic or a bus stop, I decide to go to another bodega around the corner. Driving, driving...there's nowhere to park. I pull to the side, put on my hazards and make a mad dash for the store in hopes that no one comes down the block and can't get around my car. I get into the bodega where as some of my neighborhood residents would call the "habibis" are cursing young hoodlums under their breath over gum. I don't know what exactly was the issue, I was in a hurry. I see the OJ, check! I ask if they have salsa. NOPE. After basically climbing over items all over the floor, I put the OJ back because I don't want to make multiple purchases.

I run out of the store, defeated, running late, and with a car stopped behind mine. I still don't know if it was stopped at the red light or because it couldn't get by, but I quickly got in my car and drove back around the corner to my friendly neighborhood bodega. I put my hazards on while I was in the bus stop. Risque.

I got the OJ and some spinach dip (because that was an alternative to salsa which guess what, they didn't have either). AHA! Health food store is right next door! I made my dip and OJ purchase (I actually brought chips from home) and made another mad dash for the health food store. They only have the classy organic salsas, so I got medium chipotle and made my way to the check out after being misdirected by a worker. Slowest check out lady ever.

I made it back to my car with no ticket (honestly, so many people "stand" in that bus stop and so much other shizz is going down at all times, there really aren't tickets given for that. I did see a metermaid in the healthfood store though, and I was determined to beat her out of the store. Check and mate.)

So I drove to EPT's house. I think I was semi retarded because there was this big spot right in front of his house but I just couldn't right hand parallel park at the moment (maybe I was nervous). I parked on the left hand side between two cars and right behind a speed bump as opposed to between a car and a driveway. Don't ask me why I was so retarded, it just happened.

EPT answered the door, and took the goodies bag. We hugged, but I was a step down from his doorstep, so it was awkward and I tried to step up whilst hugging him and I tripped and as I tried to catch myself, I tripped again. I actually said "well that was awkward" and then we had a proper hug inside. I missed his hugs. A lot. Too much.

We watched the football game and drank vodka and I met his brother and his sister. His sister and I got along really well and he went to go smoke and we chatted and I invited her out this Friday because she's 21. We were having a good ol' time. I met his mom too.

He was being really, really nice. He was kissing my forehead and touching my leg and just saying nice stuff about me. We called ATL and left him a message. Everything was copacetic .

At about 11:30, as I was pouring my 3rd cup of screwdriver, EPT mentioned that at midnight he would be going to bed because they had to be up early to go to Woodbury Commons. What he was essentially saying was that it was time for me to go at 12. I made mention that I could hang out with his sister (since I had been doing a lot of that already), and he basically said I was his guest and he wouldn't feel right leaving me with her, and as her responsibility. So I asked for a cup of water, switched what I was drinking and got a little bitter. I took two sips and said "Fine, then walk me to the door."

He tried to ask me if I understood. I told him I did. I don't even remember hugging goodbye. I was not in good spirits.

I sat in my car, decided that I wasn't tipsy, drunk, whatever, I was just irritated and I took off. 10 minutes later I was home safely. I at a piece of leftover KFC chicken and half a biscuit. I got to my room. Laid down. Had the spins. Threw up my midnight snack.

I'm glad I got home when I did, because if I had waited for the alcohol to hit me, I would've been sobering up in my car for a while.

He called the next day to apologize for things ending so sour and promised he would see me this week.

He's the worst at responding to texts.

The reason I opened this post with musings of wishing someone didn't come back into your life and then talking about EPT, is because, sometimes I wish he didn't. It took almost 2 years for him to respond to my handful of facebook messages. He doesn't respond well to texts, and I don't like phone calls very much. Basically, he's going to break my heart because I like him. I think about him, and I hate it. I feel pathetic and desperate and hopeless.

Basically, I'm torn between being happy to have him back in my life and being upset because he's not actually back in my life.

Fuck men.

On a side note, I was thinking in the shower last night about a few things, but mainly what I would do if I got into a relationship. What I mean by that, is what I would I do with Steel Pans. We've been BCing for over 2 years now, could I give that up? God, I hope so. I like him as a person though. He makes me laugh.

Also, I should probably post about my parents at some point. They're driving each other crazy (sometimes) and I don't know how to fix it, or if I can.

Another admittance of failure

I'm really awful at this blogging thing, so here's what's been going on with me lately that I may or may not embellish upon later.

Work was hell last week. Actually for two weeks it wasn't the most spectacular place. My boss was gone and I had 9 grants due in two days, 7 of which were absurd and required hardcopies and CDs and FedExing. I actually thanked the FedExing gods on Wednesday night because as I caught the last FedEx pickup JUST as he was leaving the building (that I had literally thrown shit across the room to my desk, ran down 6 flights of stairs, jaywalked dangerously, hailed a cab and gotten to the pick up place all in 12 minutes to catch). I've noticed the FedEx gods are fickle though, as they did not pickup my package from the dropoff the night before causing my coworker to hand deliver a grant that was due on Wednesday to the MetLife building as my head spun and almost imploded from the 7 other grants I had to deal with.

This whole grant situation is quite stress inducing because NO ONE knows how to prepare for a deadline, and they have no regard for my workload or that of our grants office. In turn, the grants office HATES my guts because I stop paying attention to little details and end up sending them versions with STUPID mistakes, which makes me look like a complete fool.

Also, the grants office is 8 blocks away, which really blows when things need to have "per ink" signatures because it requires so much back and forth, and if my coworker didn't go pick up all of the signature pages I needed on Wednesday, I would've cried myself into oblivion and no one's grants would have arrived at their destination.

So I was at work until 8:30 on Wednesday. That's after dropping off the signature pages at the grants office at 7pm on Tuesday. Then I was at work until 7:30pm on Thursday because another of the doctors likes to push the deadlines and so I had to wait for her to submit her grant. All in all, I had worked 35 hours by Thursday and bitch didn't come to work on Friday. CHA CHING.

Guess what I did on Friday with my time off?

ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY...nothing.

I did nothing.

I took a whole day off to do nothing. I did go out on Friday night for the Mexican's roommate's boyfriend's bday. I wore wedges (so my feet hated me) and vomited Sangria up at a wine bar before the night even started. We went to this gay club. It was entertaining for the two hours we were there, but my feet hurt and I wasn't drunk and I was ready to go home. So guess what I did on Saturday because I went out on Friday night? Nothing.

Yup. I did nothing again. I packed my bag for Jamaica. Cried in my head a little because I overpacked for the billionth time. I literally looked at the items in my bag and mentally noted the stuff that would never even be unfolded because I brought too much. However, I did get the essentials in my overhead compartment carryon. These essentials are 20 solo cups, 6 ping pong balls and a deck of cards. Yup, I'm going to figure out how the fuck we can play beer pong without a long table in Jamaica. I'm going to figure it out. I swear. There will be pictures.

Did I tell you that I'm going back to Jamaica on Thursday? Yeah...that's right, I'm a glutton for punishment. It should be quite entertaining though and I'm pretty excited about it. I'm ready to be done with the next few days though.

Jesus. I just realized I haven't updated since before Thanksgiving. So here's how that shizz went.

My mom started cooking almost two weeks in advance (I might've mentioned that). I started my cooking about three days before.

Mind you, we do Thanksgiving at our house on Saturday so we can invite friends who spend Thursday with their family. We also go to my Uncle's house on the Upper West Side for actual Thanksgiving, because they can never make it to our house due to my Aunt's family having some annual shindig. After my Uncle's Thanksgiving I took my car, leaving my parents to take the train home, and made my way over to the Mexican's for their Thanksgiving. Their party was lovely. I carved the turkey (which was the best ever) and The Mexican got schwasted, everyone was happy. It was a Merry Thanksgiving. Great success.
 

Here is what I contributed to Thanksgiving:

• Mac and Cheese (I think I used about 7 cheeses)
• Bacon and Jalapeno Mac and Cheese (Same base as above) - took to the Mexican's and abandoned
• Bacon wrapped stuffed jalapenos (with herb cream cheese)
• Bacon wrapped waterchestnuts (with sriracha aioli)
• Bacon wrapped dates (stuffed with marscapone and almond slivers dipped in soy and brown sugar)
• Spinach, artichoke and crab dip (with mozzarella melted atop - very much like a restaurant..but better)
• Garlic Mashed Potatoes that are glorious and I don't even like potatoes
• Brussel Sprouts two ways (baked and crispy, and creamy mustard)
• Salad (with home made dressings)
• Chocolate Chip Cookies
• Pumpkin Cranberry Cookies
• Gingersnaps and pumpkin dip
• Sangria

Here's what my mother contributed to Thanksgiving:

• Her famous spinach that I always always want
• 6 types of stuffing (cornbread and sausage, sausage and sausage, water chestnut and chinese sausage, some kind of vegetarian one, oyster, wild rice with something or other)
• Gallatine (turkey stuffed with duck stuffed with chicken stuffed with sausage - no bones)
• Turkey
• Curry Pumpkin Soup
• Homemade chicken liver pate
• Cornbread
• Mozzarepas
• Mushrooms and Onions
• Sweet noodle kugel with peaches
• Stuffed mushrooms
• Sweet potato casserole
• Pumpkin pie
• Apple Pie
• Pear Tart
• Cheesecake
• .....I know I'm missing stuff, and some other people brought things as well but yeah...there was a shit ton of food and I remained mostly stress free. My mom and I didn't kill each other, and I was semi-social.

Here's what my dad contributed to Thanksgiving:

• Labels - his one and only job was to label the food, he failed. I labeled most of the stuff. I guess he also did everything else my mom told him to, so he contributed SOMETHING. He went to the store a lot for us.

I didn't go to my college friend's leftover party on Friday though. I pretty much hibernated until Monday actually.

In other news, let me tell you about the new guys in my life.

You see, Compas is pretty much gone. He got the hint that I wasn't interested. I'm an ass. I've moved on.
HWizard has been out of town for quite a bit, so that's all blah - but should be fine. Steel Pans works like a fucking fiend and has to wake up at the ass crack of dawn, but after our little tiff over money things are fine and he comes by for quickies when he can. I spent the day after Thanksgiving with JBike, and saw him on Saturday. He's finally working so maybe my money will come back to me soon!

I decided last weekend it was time to really get on my meeting people ish.

So I've been talking to this guy that we'll call Big Blue, because he's a Giants fan. GAG. But whatever, we talk about football and it's sweet. I went to watch the games with him yesterday in the Bronx and it was rather pleasant. He invited me to dinner on Friday, but I couldn't get my shit together in time to go before going out with the Mexican, so Sunday it was. We spent the day watching the games and rooting against each other eating pizza. It was lovely.

After I saw Big Blue, I went to go see this guy I will call Baby Hustla...because he's 21 (JUST turned 21 on Nov. 6) and well...he's a hustler folks. That's right, I'm talking to a goddamn pubescent drug dealer.

Whatever. He's an idiot. He has a face tattoo (which he thinks is fine because it's a cross and he loves Jesus), he also has some bible verse tattooed across his whole chest and kind of up his neck. He has a baby face, but is at least taller than me. His family is from Jamaica, although he is not. He's been shot twice, and recently. Everything about him screams AWFUL IDEA, but he's entertaining. We cuddled, he tried to get in my pants, and I didn't do it! He did bite my fucking throat though. Thanks for the hickey, asshole. He said he wanted me to remember him every time I looked in the mirror. I nearly punched him in the face.

All of that being said, I will most likely see him again because I'm a fucking fool and I think it'll be good sex. Also, he makes me feel smart because he says some of the dumbest shit I've ever heard and who doesn't need an intelligence ego boost from time to time?

The most important new boy I will call Playboy...because that's what he is. He admittedly doesn't care much about girls' feelings. However, he's been to my house twice now (Thursday and Friday) and all we did was cuddle and well, I let him get to second base, but seriously it was precious. He's a really sweet guy - so far - and we're really comfortable with each other. Great cuddler. He does give me slight panic attacks when he wakes up, because randomly he'll wake up, make some random movement like pulling me close or basically waking up saying that it's time for him to go. Motherf-er, RELAX. I told him that, because it freaks me the fuck out when he does that. Also, his car was blocking my mom's in, so I knew he had to be out by 8, so I didn't sleep so well on Thursday.

Look, it's a work in progress, but I'm just proud of myself for keeping my pants on lately. Trying to form bonds of substance...although not one of these guys will end up going anywhere, so sad. They're all so damn cute though.

So damn cute...

Here's a fun little tidbit about today though. So I went to get the salad dressing from the fridge, and someone put it in there without screwing on the top and it slipped onto the ground and EXPLODED all over me. My shirt is currently drying. Thank goodness for layers. I smell a bit like balsamic vinaigrette and I had the stuff all over my face. I keep it classy blogosphere, I keep it classy.

I've come to a realization

I am a bad blogger.

I feel like there's so much I could say, yet my life has been incredibly boring lately. That being said, I have a lot of inner turmoil going on, so I'm sure I could come up with something to talk about. How about the fact that I literally did NOTHING useful from Friday evening up until this morning. The only people I saw were my parents (my dad for a whole two minutes, my mom whenever I was in the kitchen or she came into my room to chat). I slept like an old lady, and would pass out mid-show over and over again.

Oh wait, on Friday night, I did have a boy over. Here's the story of this guy. Let's call him HWizard. Don't even ask.

So HWizard and I met last year I think. We met online. That's how it all starts. It turns out, he went to college or something with B's cousin. Small world. I guess that's what happens when you play basketball. Anyway, we hooked up once (I think this was the only time I've been shnocked before 10am). I don't know how this happened, but I decided that drinking was a necessity. So we hooked up. Mid hook up, he gets a phone call. He says he has to go run and do something but he'll be back within an hour...uh OK. We got into a text "argument" and I deleted him for not coming back.

Fast forward to three or so weeks ago. He messages me again online.


Somehow we end up hooking up again. This is my life. These are the decisions I make. Welcome.

We got into a bit of a text "argument" on Tuesday again after I went to Instinct Magazine's man of the year party because I was a little tipsy and wanted to see him, and he was out of town playing ball...again. I was getting frustrated, because I wanted to add him to my regulars roster, but it wasn't happening.

Anyway, I saw him on Friday, he stayed until about noon on Saturday. There is so much I could say about the experience...it's been interesting. I haven't spoken to him since. I'm giving him the distance/space he needs. I know he'll be back.

SteelPans and I are currently "fighting". He made a "joke" about going to Atlantic City to gamble on Friday. I, naturally, responded with a snide remark such as "Oh, so that must mean you have the money you owe me if you have the money to go gambling with." This made SP not happy, not happy at all. He hasn't talked to me since. I apologized. Bummer.

In other news, I'm going to Jamaica. That's right. After weeks of ridiculous back and forth decision making, my parents convinced me I should go. I have a feeling this is going to happen a lot. They basically said that this is the time of my life to travel when there's nothing tying me to the city and that if I need it in the future, they will lend me money - if all is well for them financially.

I'm sure it'll be a good time. It's going to be a different trip than ones I've gone on before because it's only with one other person. Hopefully it'll be relaxing. Drinking to ensue. I hope that I remember to take pictures. I wish the other Canadians could come, but alas, they will probably be going in February, which I may be convinced to join them for.

All in all, my diet went to shit. Thanksgiving isn't stressing me out yet. Christmas is, because I have to buy gifts this year for the Mexican's family. I should probably get something for the Mexican too, or get him to agree to no gifts.

I watch too much TV. I talk to too many people via text, but haven't had a deep conversation in who knows how long. There's not much going on.

The end.

I thought vacations were supposed to relieve stress

I'm being selfish, and slightly freaking out.

At 2:20am, tomorrow morning, I will be on a flight going to Kingston, Jamaica. There I will take a cab into New Kingston, get on a bus at 9:30am and arrive in Ocho Rios just before noon.

My friend Kim was supposed to come with her friend to pick me up from the bus stop. We are sharing a hotel room, she's been there for 10 days already. There are a lot of other people there too, including her sister (whom I have met once), but other than that...no one I know.

I got a call this morning from the ring leader of my Chicago/Canadian group of friends (and the organizer of all things Jamaica), telling me that Kim...is in the hospital. She had surgery yesterday, and they are only releasing her today for the wedding, but she will be going back to the hospital tomorrow.

She broke her hand in Jamaica. She fell off the back of a pick up truck. 

I'm freaking out a little bit. I was already nervous about taking this whole thing on by myself, but now my only lifeline has sunk herself. This makes me selfish. I obviously care what's going on with Kim, but I'm also worried about myself.

I currently have something like the flu. Turns out those hives from Saturday, are just part of the viral infection that my body is currently fostering.

I spent some of last night curled in fetal position on the floor of my bathroom after vomiting up my life. Yes, I laid in bed with a bit of vomit in my hair before I took a shower because I was that miserable.

I managed to finish packing though, and made it to my job by 8am this morning, just to find out that the maintenance man didn't arrive until 8:30. I'm in desperate need of meds. I'm "praying" that this congestion doesn't get worse before I get on the plane, or I'm in for a really really shitty night/morning.

The light at the end of the tunnel is that I will be in Jamaica at this time tomorrow; the boulder blocking that light is that I actually have to make it there in one piece. I wish I wasn't going to get ripped on in the cabs. I wish that everything would not be falling apart.

I wish I had more money in my bank account, but I lent JBike $860. I wish that Steel Pans' phone didn't get cut off, because it freaked me out into thinking that yet again I wouldn't get my money back.

My stomach hurts. My face hurts (with a really good red dot in the middle of my right cheek). I just want a nap. I don't want to be here.

I want to be coddled (and I never want to be coddled). I'm being a baby. A baby that better grow the fuck up in the next 12 or so hours, because that's when I'll be heading the the airport to take on Jamaica by myself.

Cross your fingers for me. For what, I don't know. Just cross them.

My wings are getting tired

Social butterfly wings that is.


After Thursday, I wasn't planning on going out on Friday. I feel like weekends have become my rest days. It's sad, and I feel like a grandma, but I really enjoy sleep.

Anyway, this guy who I went out with once...let's call him Gym Teacher, invited me out Friday night. Sure, I might've mentioned I could possibly make Friday work, but I wasn't expecting him to. However, I agreed.

We went to this place called Tonic in Midtown East/Murray Hill...whatever. I was drinking on the train. Leftovers from Honey, so that was good. I got there and I wasn't really feeling anything (the Long Island had become watered down). He bought me drinks though, and I drank...a lot. Well, maybe not a lot. I did get a little irritated at this guy who was basically leaning on my back. The Gym Teacher (GT) thought it was pretty funny because I was getting a little huffy, so he pulled me away from the bar where we were standing to calm me down.

A few funny things happened. One, we watched this white girl and black guy dance and it was HILARIOUS. She had less rhythm than me. Honestly, I'm pretty good at "dubbing". Yeah, that's right, I can grind like...a mortar and pestle? Anyway, this girl was so off beat it was pretty hilarious. Secondly, the men's bathroom didn't have a lock on it, but it was just a single person bathroom, so while GT was peeing, two other guys walked into the bathroom. They were so quick! I didn't have time to stop them...so I just laughed.

Pretty much we danced until 4am, made out a lot and then he drove me home. I'm always impressed with my ability to give directions when drunk...because I was DEFINITELY drunk.

Saturday, I was supposed to go out for Heels' birthday. I actually got in the shower to get ready. B was going to come too, but she wasn't feeling well. Then, whilst showering, I discovered I had hives. Well, that's what my mom said they were. I've never had an allergic reaction to anything before...well not really, and I hadn't had anything new recently, so I had no idea what was going on. Also, it was completely isolated to my breasts (under my bra area- which could've explained it...if I had been wearing one at all that day) and a few little dots on my belly. Said hives, plus my train being a complete douchebag this weekend again, combined with having to wake up at 8:30am, kept me home.

Great sleep. Hivey boobs. What a Saturday.

Sunday I woke up early to go meet my cousin in the city. I haven't seen her since last Thanksgiving and I was excited to talk to her. Honestly, every time I hang out with my mom's side of the family, it makes me realize that maybe my family isn't a complete disaster (then I check facebook and read all about my dad's side and the reminder wavers a little). We had a great brunch and I dropped her off at the subway. Hopefully we'll keep in touch more. I think we're both at points in our lives where our relationship could be great!

Afterward, I went to go pick up the guy I had gone to Indian food and La Caverna with last weekend. Let's give him a name...Compas, because that's what he likes to listen to the best. I picked him up and we went to go to IHOP so he could get something to eat, because the Mexican and his boy were supposed to be coming 30 minutes later. I finally found parking, we walked over to IHOP and it was packed. Then I got a message from the Mexican and they arrived early. We went back to the car, scooped them up and headed up to Hopewell Junction, NY - to Fishkill Farms. We wanted to go physically apple picking, but it's late in the season, so instead we got apple cider donuts and hot apple cider at an orchard. We sat on the back porch, overlooking the pretty scenery and ate and drank our treats.

The Mexican with his hot apple cider

I shopped. I got pumpkins and apples and produce and honey vinegar and it was just glorious.

We went to Cracker Barrel afterward, which was pretty much the reason the Mexican wanted to go apple picking in the first place...because there are none of them in NYC. (By the way, both Compas and I are geniuses according to the peg game.)

Peg game - I'm a genius

The car rides were not bad. I mean, other than being an hour and change each way. We all chatted on the way up there and sang along to some music. The Mexican and his boy napped on the way back and Compas and I held hands and chatted on the way back. It was actually really sweet. He was great the whole day. He was just the right level of affectionate, hugging me sometimes and kissing the top of my head/cheek.

I came home and roasted my acorn squash, toasted the pepitas, and cooked collard greens that I bought at Fishkill and watched TV until I passed out.

Toasted pepitas!

I'm a really lucky girl.

Except of course for the fact that I haven't heard from Steel Pans in over a week. Money ruins everything.

Chicago comes to New York!

I'm a negative blogger. I prefer rant posts to anything else. Either ranting or drunken recall, and since I've neither been upset nor drunk lately, I have little to no blog material.

I have decided it might be time to recap Mo's trip to NYC. This is just a boring recall, I apologize in advance for the lack of snarky commentary. I'm just kind of blah. I really want bread.

As you may already know, Mo arrived on Thursday 9/22 in the evening...this means that we were at Honey.

Since she was getting in late, the Mexican and I decided to go get Korean fried chicken. We wanted to decide who had the better chicken between two places, so we went to both. We went to Bon Chon and then Kyo Chon in Koreatown. I was feeling OK, but again I was getting a little burpy which is never ok before drinking.

We parted ways and I headed to Honey. It was actually a quite beautiful night, maybe a little hot and muggy, but nice regardless.  I reserved the outside so I was sitting there with Feathers and Heels, drinking. Kirk was harassing Heels and we were all pretty much trying to ignore his cocky ass. I had to get a carafe of water because I started feeling terrible and getting hot sweats from the fried food and mugginess (I have no gall bladder, so fried usually doesn't go so well with me). My stomach started to settle, thank goodness.

Before we knew it, Mo had arrived! She got out of the cab saying that she thought she was going to die in there because he was speeding down the highway. I didn't give her much time to talk before saddling her up with some pre-ordered drinks.

Shortly there after, B and her other friend arrived...we'll call him Cousteau, because it makes sense to me. He's not unattractive and he's got a decent personality. He's shorter than I am and the only guy I've ever had sex with who was. ANYWAY. The drinking had commenced.

Mo and B, reunited and it feels so good!

Cousteau and B

Anyway, the evening went on. I don't remember going inside to dance at all, but B and Mo did. I'm pretty sure Feathers did too at some point. We all got trashed. Like TRASHED. Feathers didn't remember leaving and I guess she vommed in the cab and ruined her shoes. Yet again, I managed to get everyone HAMMERED. I don't remember saying goodbye to anyone, but Mo told me a did. Cousteau drove us two blocks to the train station where Mo and I got on the train and I promptly told her what stop we were getting off at, and passed out. (I'm a really great host, I promise). I woke up right before our stop and we got off and got life saving sandwiches. I lost half of mine though. To this day, I still don't know where it is. I don't think I ate it.

Friday it rained. I had taken the day off. We did nothing. We watched TV and I cleared my DVR in anticipation of all of the fall premieres/shows. We eventually got hungry in the evening and decided it was time to get ready. We were going to Taj for Chris' birthday and wanted to get dinner first.

We got ready, packed up the bottle of Cosmo and Pomm-Appletini from Honey the night before and made our way to Union Square.

We decided to eat at Republic, and it was delicious. Then we walked in the rain up towards Taj. We were going to meet up with Feathers, but we could NOT figure out a plan, so we ended up at Taj really early. I started drinking.

We were standing on the corner and Mo said we couldn't do that because we looked like prostitutes. Then we moved under some scaffolding not too far from the corner and a crazy/homeless man basically called us lesbian hookers. I don't know WHY Mo humored him and responded to what he was saying. I tried to ignore him, but then almost got into an argument with him because I mumbled "Why can't you just disappear?" to which he responded "How am I supposed to disappear on a public street?" I retorted with something like "You didn't need to stop here. Goodbye." I ignored everything else he said. He was the one who said he would let us get back to each other and "make our money". Absurd.

So we went to Taj, got there around the same time as Chris. We got in just before midnight and they have two for one drinks. So I got two cran vodkas and two long islands. They lasted me the whole night. I nursed them and held down the bar. Dancing happened. Monica was cuffed pretty fast by this adorable boy named Dorian, and just like every time I go to Taj, the deaf people find me. That's right, deaf. I don't have a problem with the hearing impaired, but the limited sign language I know does not allow us to converse, and I really want to be able to jam to the words of a song as well as the beat. I got away that time. We left around 3:30am.

Chris dancing on her bday!

Tired Mo, need to sit.

Saturday Mo wanted to be a tourist. So we tried to make it into the new 9/11 Memorial. Unfortunately, there were no tickets left so we just ended up walking around Lower Manhattan for a little while. We got delicious Pizza and went up to Times Square. We rode the ferris wheel in Toys R Us. We were those people. Those ADULTS I should say. It was pretty glorious. Afterward, we made plans to meet up with the Mexican and one of his roommates down in Chinatown.

Freedom Tower in progress

My little pony car at Toys R Us

We were early to Chinatown and so we got some bubble tea and just hung out before going to this Vietnamese place for dinner. It was pretty damn delicious.

We had plans to meet up with VWR and Ebony Banker (EB) at this bar Legends. So we went up to Herald Square and into the bar to look for her. It was PACKED. The LSU game was on and it was an LSU fan bar. So hot. I went outside to try and get in contact with VWR and had a frustrating time figuring out what to do. She was drunk and kept asking the same questions. They finally agreed to come meet us for a little while so we went back to Legends where I promptly downed two or three cran vodkas in the hell hole they call their upstairs. It was nice to see VWR and EB though. They're a really cute couple. We stayed for about 45 mins and then walked over to HK Lounge to meet Chris for bday round two, and T for one of her friend's bdays (her friend who I've met a million times before). We didn't stay there long because our feet were KILLING us.

Mo and I left around 2, 2:30am. It took us two hours to get home, thanks to the awesomeness of the MT-FUCKING-A. Our feet were so unhappy.

Sunday Mo wanted to be touristy again. We RUSHED to get to the Statue of Liberty boat. It was actually a really nice day. We saw the Statue and Ellis Island and then went up to Curry Hill for some DELICIOUS Indian lunch. We went back up to Times Square to get some souvenirs and decided not to go see a broadway show. Instead we went back to Brooklyn and I took Mo to see the Brooklyn Heights Promenade which is the best view of Manhattan. Unfortunately, the pictures suck because it was night, but it was beautiful. We went to the movies and then home. We had to be up at 4am to go to the airport.

Liberty Island

On the boat to the islands

Overall, I had a great time. My toes are bruised a million ways and I didn't do ANYTHING (other than Honey) the next week/weekend because I needed to recover, but it was a good time.

In other news:

• As I mentioned, I booked my trips to Chicago and Jamaica and I cannot WAIT
• I bought a ton of clothing that I may or may not need
• I need to get a million pairs of pants hemmed
• I've been pretty good about going to the gym lately - my legs hurt a lot right now
• I have to shop for Jamaica and a Halloween Costume
• I need a pair of nice waterproof leather boots
• I have a cold and I'm tired of this goddamn sore throat
• I'm going to the Jets game on 11/11 and could not be more excited about that
• I lent Steel Pans $400 so that he could get his license reinstated and go back to work (baby mama drama)
• I really want a piece of cake
• These pants pockets aren't big enough for my phone
• I don't want to do anything at work

I kind of feel like a John

Because I lent my "booty call" $400.

I'm too nice. Steel Pans was in a bit of a pickle where his license was suspended until he could pay $1,000 and he can't work without a license, hence the pickle. I covered the balance after he scraped together what he could. I'm probably too nice.

I've spent an incredible amount of money in the past two weeks. It's a bit sick, but about $700 of that went to vacation. I'm really excited to go to Chicago for Halloween and Jamaica for...well, because it's Jamaica and the Canadians will be there. I just need a break, I swear. I love how I act like my life is so rough and I constantly need a vacation. I'm such a baby about it.

Anyway, I'll suck it up and move on with my life.

I went to Honey last night. I wasn't going to. I even went to the gym first, but Feathers convinced me to go. If someone goes, then I go. I actually bet this guy Kirk (a real d-bag) $100 bucks that they would give me the outside table before him...and he "promotes there". I'm cooler though. They like me more. I'm going to win next week - if we go.

We had tacos and tostadas from this amazing truck right by Honey and it was brilliant. So delish. Didn't go with my diet though. Oh yeah, I'm on one of those. Watching what I'm eating, going to the gym more often, pushing myself harder when I'm there. It was going fine until last night and the three dinners/two carafes of cosmos.

That's nothing though. I got everyone shnockered last Thursday in honor of Mo's arrival. Most people ended up sick. I spent another $200. It's fine. I just need to stop "keeping them coming" when I start drinking. I'm a bottomless cosmo pit. I feel a touch bad because I blacked out for part of the evening, but at least I remembered to tell Mo where I lived...so I could pass out on the train. Yeah, I'm classy like that. I woke up BEFORE our stop though, so that worked out brilliantly.

We didn't do anything during the day on Friday and that was great. It rained and we watched TV. I need another day like that because starting on Friday night, we were going non-stop pretty much.

We went out to dinner in Union Square and then whilst drinking left over booze from Honey on Thursday (one of my fave parts of Friday mornings is going through my bag from the night before and seeing what goodies I've managed to stuff in my bag - I was not disappointed last Friday with a big bottle of cosmos and one of pom-apple martinis.)

Anyway, we walked up to Taj and we were super early, so we just kind of hung around and drank. A crazy homeless man called us lesbian prostitutes. It was funny because Mo was all "we can't stand on the corner because we'll look like hookers" and then we moved away from the corner....and lo and behold, we got called hookers. Then we went to sit in the bank and drink, and a homeless man decided that's where he was going to sleep that night. We had bad bum luck that night.

We got to Taj right before midnight and got two for one drinks. I had four drinks at once. It was pretty glorious. Good time overall. The train home was kind of a bummer because my train wasn't working...more about this later.

Honestly, I don't feel like writing anymore right now. You'll have to wait until Monday (or later next week) for more updates on my life.

I know I've been MIA

I have a lot to say, but I have no time. For now I'll just let you know what I WILL be talking about in the future (which will remind me to actually blog):

Mo's trip to NYC
Steel Pans situation
Booking October vacations

Well that's pretty much it...but there's a lot of material there. So stay tuned!

Day 7: I waaaant you to waaaaant me

This one's a tough one because there are so many things I want, yet it's hard to think in specifics...I'll try though.

I want...

1. Some clarity

I would really like to know what the hell I am doing and what I'm planning to do with my life. Am I going to get perpetually stuck in this job? What am I looking forward to doing with my life? What do I want to go back to school for? Do I want to go back to school even? Will I ever meet the person I'm supposed to be with? Do I even know how to really be with someone? So many questions, I just want answers!

2. To book my vacations

Seriously, if I don't book the vacations I've been talking about for weeks now, I might explode. It's killing me. I just need people to commit, or I'm going on vacation alone!

3. My surgery not to cost me an arm and a damn leg

I really hope that when I get the quote for my upcoming surgery today that it's not ludicrous. Oh, and I hope insurance can help me out a bit...pretty, pretty please?

4. Some sort of resolution with B

I don't know what this entails, but I just want to know where our friendship will end up. I mean, I'm not distraught over this whole friend break thing, and that kind of worries me. There are just some things that I want to know, and some things I have a hard time picturing without her. It's weird and confusing.

5. A stable love life

I'm not really sure what this exactly means, but I feel like my love life is in constant flux. Maybe I'm ready for a relationship, or maybe I just want a little consistency. Or maybe I want to really really be interested in someone and have them be interested in me (for something other than sex). On the same token, I'm pretty content with my current sexual fulfillment. I just don't know!

6. Motivation to work out on a regular basis

I seriously need to make some changes in my eating habits and how I work out. I need to learn to push myself and actually obtain results from working out as opposed to just doing some random cardio that really isn't that strenuous and won't end up doing anything for me in the future!

7. To be in bed
I'm sleepy and I just want to lay down and lounge around doing nothing but just watching TV cuddled up with one of my four current boys. Actually, I don't want to cuddle with Steel Pans, because he gets really fucking jumpy and is super ticklish and always thinks I'm trying to tickle him when I go to rub his back. Then I get irritated, turn over, and go back to bed. Stupid.

Yes, I steal tables.

It's time for another episode of Thursday night debauchery recap.

First off, let me start by saying that yesterday was gorgeous. Pretty much perfect weather, if not a little cool. DRASTICALLY different from last week's episode of Thursday night debauchery. It was so hot last week that I melted as I sat outside. I even put my hair up temporarily because it was stifling.

After getting my nails done with The Mexican and VWR, I went to Honey. B and I were supposed to meet at 7:15 or so. She asked me to get her a shirt on my way because she was wearing her work shirt and forgot a change of shirt, yet again.

I picked up a shirt for her in Union Square and then started walking down to Honey, slowly because she wasn't responding to my messages. I got there just after 7:15 and had a message from B saying she was around the corner.

I chatted with the doorman for a little while - my best buddy - and noticed that there were no seats outside. I scolded Doorman for not reserving us a table, because he knew that we would be coming. It was a joke, but in all honesty, he should've. I will be calling Maitre'D in the future to do just that. I got his number later on in the night. They really do love us there.

The reason I mention the table situation is that there were these two women sitting at one of the tables while I was waiting for B and talking to Doorman. They got up and I was on it. I asked them if they were coming back and the girl mumbled something about "possibly coming back" and when I said "what?" to clarify, she walked away. I took the table.

I sat there for almost 15 minutes before the girl came back and was like "This was our table, we just went to get a hookah." Excuse me for a second here miss. Your whole party got up, and took your drinks with you. You disappeared for 15 minutes, and when I said "what" because I didn't hear you, you chose to ignore me. Basically, I'm going to ignore you now. I sat there, and she eventually skittered away. She tried to tell Maitre'D and he looked outside, saw me, and essentially shut her down. Bye bitch!

B FINALLY showed up at 8pm. I wanted to kill her at that point because I had been waiting so long, and I hadn't had a drink yet because I couldn't get up from the table to go to the bar and the waitress was THE WORST. I had been there over an hour before I had to get the bus boy to get the waitress. I ordered 4 Watermelon Martinis for B and 4 Cosmos for me. The girls next to me laughed and I told them that there was a reason I was ordering in bulk. Happy hour was almost over. They weren't really laughing at me, but they definitely thought I was nuts...until the waitress didn't come back for almost a half hour and they had to go to the bar to pay their bill and get other drinks.

The waitress came back about two minutes after I gave her my order to write down what I wanted. She said "You said 4 strawberry margaritas, right?" Um, no. I don't know who the hell she was listening to when she got THAT order, but definitely not me. I spoke super slowly after that to make sure she got the order right. It took about a half hour to get the drinks, and this was with prompting from the Maitre'D again. We started drinking rapidly.

Our first order

By 8:45 we were each breaking into our second drink. We decided we were going to order another round at the bar. We found the Floor Manager, who I adore, and she was working the bar. I ordered the 8 more drinks with her and asked her if she could just add them to my tab and send them outside. She agreed. I feel bad for her, because she was SWAMPED.

It was packed there that night, so it took another 15+ minutes to get our next round. This worked out because we were almost done with the first round when it finally came.

However, the owner was there that night. He is an ass (we discovered) and they had to close the window wall to the inside because of noise complaints, which was fine. But also, he said we all had to clear out of the outside area. I guess he got fined $10,000 last week or something because of people outside. Probably because of the fight and the police and all that jazz. Doorman convinced him to let us stay another half hour to drink the drinks that had JUST been delivered to us. We were the only ones allowed to stay outside.

B finished her drinks and I got down to my last 1.5 before we were forced inside. That's fine though. It was time to dance anyway. We got the bill and the only thing that was on it were our first 8 drinks, at $5 a pop. God I love Floor Manager.

Oh yeah, at one point I went to go use the facilities and saw my bestie, Senegal (who later "yelled" at me for calling him that because I didn't know his name. He called me Melissa until I learned his name. Ironically, it's the same as mine, except pronounced COMPLETELY differently.) I made him let me use the men's room because I refused to wait. He just shook his head at me as I took the paper towel from him to scrub stuff with before I squatted anyway. I used the men's room twice that night. On my way downstairs to the restroom though, I ran into Floor Manager and asked her if there was anywhere I could put my bag. She took the whole thing and put it in the back room so I didn't have to worry about it. It was THE BEST!

B and I were pretty much wasted. I actually left to go get a slice of Pizza and I came back. I hadn't eaten since lunch. I was going to order food at Honey, but with the snail pace service, I didn't even bother.

When I came back, still trashed, B and I were dancing. Unfortunately, I put my arm down and hit this girl's drink onto the floor. It was half of a patron margarita. It was her birthday (B checked her ID to confirm), so we went to the bar to replace the drink. B got one for the girl and one for herself, and I got a Long Island. I don't think that we paid for those drinks either, unless B did...

B thought that it was silly to give the girl a whole drink because I only knocked over half a cup, maybe. So we drank some before giving it to her.

Our drinks were incredibly strong that night. 

I don't think I drank ANY of the Long Island. I was housed. I ended up going back to see Senegal and in the restroom I poured out the bottle of water I had and poured in the Long Island. Yeah I lost some in transition, but I maintained a good portion of it that is now sitting in my room at home. Senegal and B were having this long involved conversation about pulling strings to get him into school and blah blah blah. We always find the needy ones. It was cute. I promised to look into what I could do. I think he's only on a visa so he needs to find a school to go to or something.

I guess B said she was ready to go, so we got ourselves together and went to the train. We might've stopped for pizza again. Come to think of it, I don't remember getting to the train station or getting on the train. I don't think I had to wait long though and it was only a brown out, because I have bits and pieces of it in my memory.

I did not miss my stop. On my way to my house I ran into OhD, who was also smacked. I told him to just come back to my house and go to sleep. He obliged. It was stupid of him to think he didn't want to do just that.

Of course I texted Steel Pans, but nothing dirty like I usually do. Basically, "Are you coming over?" The answer was "Leave the back door open." So I did.

It was about 1am. I told my mother who was sleep-watching tv, to go to bed, vomited my life up, and went into my room. Got into my PJs and the next thing I remember is waking up next to Steel Pans, naked.

I think I remember the sex. One can't be too sure though. I have one or two flashes of our throes of passion.

I woke up surprisingly un-hungover. My stomach is still not happy, but at least my body didn't feel like I was beaten like a red-headed step child (my aunt actually has one of those...)

Minor sidenote: House Manager told us we had to come another night and not just on Thursdays, he cut her finger and was at the ER that day, but she stopped by at some point during the night. Floor Manager told us we had to come on Wednesday for Bachata lessons because there are never enough women. B agreed. I'm going to be a hot mess. I CANNOT Bachata. I will go though, because I am loyal and they are wonderful.

Thus concluding another episode of the Thursday night debauchery chronicles.

Another sidenote, Delta texted me. He makes no sense. Let's play "decipher this":

Wet feet and baby steps

Do you know why Mondays are tolerable? Because I get to read all of the blog updates since Friday from the blogs I follow. Other than that, Monday pretty much lives up to its reputation. No need to explain what this reputation is, you all know. You've all had the Monday morning blues at SOME point in your life.

Sad to report folks that I had a pretty uneventful weekend yet again. I think I'm coming to grips with the fact that I'm over 50% homebody. Sure I enjoy going out with my friends, but once I am in the comfort of my own home, it's truly difficult to pull myself away.

Friday after work it was raining. This made me upset, because I was wearing flip flops. I hate wet flip flops. I don't like the squeaking they make when you walk. I don't like that you have to be extra cautious so you don't lose a shoe by just walking. I especially hate when your feet get wet AND dirty. I was not a happy camper, but I was able to catch the bus, so I didn't have to walk much outside.

Other things I hate about the rain (when I have things to do). Umbrellas. I hate them. I hate carrying umbrellas, I hate bobbing and weaving around everyone else's umbrella. I hate having to maneuver around other people. I hate other people's umbrella's dumping on me. The smell. Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind the smell of the warm pavement after it's just rained, but it's hard to smell warm wet sidewalk when you're overwhelmed by the stench of warm wet garbage, and people...but not in a good way. People smell bad when they're hot and damp. That's just the way it goes. I'm getting a little sick just thinking about it.

However, I did see a dog in the most glorious red raincoat. Normally, I don't care for people dressing up their dogs, but I get a real kick out of seeing animals dressed up in rain gear.

I managed to force myself to go to the gym, even though I was functioning on a cool 3 hours of sleep. Did a lot of cardio, a little big of other stuff before getting bored and deciding it was time to go the fuck to bed.

I went home and although I probably could've made plans, four people I was talking to had the same idea about staying in. It was just a lazy friday. I passed out at 10pm and didn't wake up until 8am the next morning.

Now let me tell you, I was not pleasantly woken up on Saturday. The roofers were there again. Pound pound pounding away at my wall/the roof outside of my room. They decided 8-9am would be the very best time to do the noisiest work. Let me tell you how FUMING I was when I dragged myself down the stairs to the kitchen just after 9am. I basically wanted to rip my father's apologetic head off. I just wondered why/how he could be so stupid/inconsiderate, to allow these men to start at 8am on SATURDAY. After angrily eating my cucumber and dip and yelling at him, he said he would talk to them about starting a bit later in the day.

I was just really upset not necessarily because they woke me up (which they did and had I gone out on Friday I would've been even more livid), but because it was too hot to close the windows, and too loud to watch my overpacked DVR. All I wanted to do was watch tv. Normally I could go into the living room and watch my mother's overpacked DVR, but since she's on summer vacation, she's actually been keeping up with all of the TV she records, just my luck.

The noise died down around 10am and I returned to my room. I started to pull my act together.

I agreed to go to a family function. My second cousin graduated from high school and they were having a party for her. (if you don't understand how first/second/third or removed cousins works, my dad will be more than happy to explain it to you....every time.) Normally I would avoid family functions like the plague, but this section of the family is the good part of my dad's family. Also, my dad kind of guilted me into fulfilling my familial obligations - damn Jewish blood.

I should've eaten something substantial before getting in the car.

I wanted to kill both of my parents within the first hour of the car ride. I was starving and the promise of food was still 3 hours away. I didn't know this at the time. My dad said that it would be an hour before we stopped. I can handle an hour. What I didn't know was that meant an hour until we drop Lisa (my mother's friend visiting from Austria) off at her brother's house "sort of" on the way to my cousin's house. I looked at the GPS and it told me the truth. I had almost 3 more hours to go and my blood sugar was dropping quickly.

Normally I don't have any issues with car sickness. In fact, I can comfortably read in the car for hours...unless my stomach is completely empty. I had to stop reading at one point and put my head between my knees. I was infuriated. Also, I wanted to charge my Kindle, but of course my parents' Prius only has one electrical jack, whereas my Camry has oh...4? MINIMUM. Again, perturbed. I threw the charger and then yanked it away yelling "FORGET IT" at some point, when my parents couldn't figure out how to have their GPS and my Kindle plugged in at the same time while I was sitting in the backseat.

Pretty much I threw a tiny temper tantrum and immediately regretted agreeing to any kind of family outing.

I didn't want to get out of the car when we got to Lisa's brother's, but I was forced. I wasn't the most friendly, but I wasn't a complete asshole either.

20 minutes later we were back on the road for another 2 hour tour.

I read and tried not to imagine how I could decapitate someone with my bare hands if I didn't get something to eat, NOW.

We arrived and there weren't many people there, but there were cocktail shrimp. I said hello to two people before making a beeline for the food. I probably ate 40 cocktail shrimp and some other random stuff, but mostly shrimp. There were so many gnats around that I remembered gnats/fruit flies were my least favorite living creature on the planet. They wanted my shrimp. I was frustrated. And then everything evened out.

I was really disappointed in the Sangria, it was so watered down. The guy they hired to serve or whatever looks like he was a few chromosomes short. Not in a fetal alcohol/downs syndrome way where there are telltale signs that the kid is a mess, but in a "the lights are on but nobody's home" kind of way. I chuckled about this every time I got a bottle of water from him.

My stomach was still uninterested in alcohol from Thursday, so I didn't take much advantage of the free booze. I also had no cell reception so I was forced to be social.

The good part of my dad's family was pleasant and I think overall it was actually quite enjoyable, and the food was great. I would really like some of the strawberry shortcake they had, right about now.

One day I'll tell you all about the bad part of my dad's family. The good part descends from his Aunt. The bad part (excluding him of course) descends from his late mother. Let me tell you the novels that can be written about those gems. You won't believe it until you hear it.

We got home at 11pm-ish and having been woken up at 8am, I took my ass to bed. Steel Pans was supposed to come over around 4:30am-ish, but I guess he got too drunk and for the first time in his life he decided not to drink and drive.

I did see him Sunday night though. At around 11 something I'd say he came over. It was like a sauna in my room because my laptop had been on all day and somehow that manages to heat up MY ENTIRE ROOM.

I was watched the Next Food Network Star and we were pretty much laying in my bed in the buff. I've realized that he's really the perfect BC. I enjoy his company for the brief period before we go at it. He makes me laugh. He's aggressive and when he's tired of actually talking to me he just takes off my clothes. We can comfortably sleep next to each other and think nothing of it in the morning. And, I can't see this going anywhere but where it is right now. I got a little sad this morning when I thought about having to give him up if I ever did get into a real relationship.

After the deed was done - and brilliantly might I add, he decided within 15 minutes it was too hot to sleep in my room and he had to be up early anyway to take his daughter to school in the morning. So he left at 1:30.

I woke up at 2:30 and realized I forgot to call this boy in North Carolina. He was still up, so I called. We talked until 4am. He'll be up in NYC on Wednesday and I think we'll get dinner. I felt like a teenager again, because I am definitely not a phone person anymore, but I actually wanted to talk on the phone all day yesterday. Maybe I've realized that you can't maintain/build friendships/relationship based solely on textual communication.

There are still two more hours in the work day. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do, but if I keep eating I'm going to explode. This working out shit doesn't make any difference considering my intake is still greater than my output these days.

Baby steps.

Blood and sparkles

This is what I have on my face. I just ripped a bit of skin from the corner of my thumb nail and for whatever reason I touched my face leaving a nice little blood spot, mixed with the runaway sparkle from my eyeliner. I'm looking classy today, let me tell you.

So I've decided that I might touch on some random topics that have piqued my interest over the past week or so. I mean, I could tell you about the boat ride I went to on Saturday - and maybe I will, but honestly I had the most relaxing/boring weekend of my life and it was entirely what I needed/wanted. Therefore, prepare for some rantings and ravings with some appreciation slipped in.

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This post just got hijacked by my need to FLIP THE FUCK OUT. Seriously, the Graduate Medical Education (GME) office here at my job is really fucking absurd. If they make me pull one of my new fellows off service for the next week, they'd better be ready to cover him their damn selves. We all left early on Friday, but you don't fucking leave when there are still things to be taken care of. If I send you an urgent email at 10:35am concerning actual URGENT topics, then you better damn well respond to my email before you leave for the holiday weekend.

I swear to God, I will not take this bullshit laying down; nor will I put my people on administrative time out because you couldn't get your shit together. Just wait until you come back from lunch Janey, you WILL hear my mouth - and so will the rest of the goddamn office if you don't get this shit taken care of. All for a medication reconciliation course?

YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.

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And now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

I went to Bloomingdales for the first time on Friday. It was an...interesting experience. By interesting I mean "potentially expensive". I didn't buy anything however, but while I was there I noticed something that really creeps me out. Mannequins in sunglasses. That's right, I hate them. One thing that helps to confirm that mannequins are not alive are their lack of eyes. With sunglasses, you're covering up the confirmation, and that shit is scary. Maybe I've been watching to alien or robot TV shows/movies, but seriously - everywhere I turned was another of these things in sunglasses. I might or might not have removed a few of them and placed them on the shelves next to the mannequin with a sigh of relief.

I'm a binge drinker. I prefer to drink a lot, and rapidly, as opposed to sipping. This has resulted in a few too many blackout experiences to be healthy. Also, when I first smell vodka, my stomach churns and my skin crawls. This doesn't stop me from drinking, I'm just saying. This is important though, because hand sanitizer, being mostly ethanol, also has the same effect on my body. I work at a hospital (sort of) and there are hand sanitizer dispensers everywhere. I can't help if I'm so inclined to sanitize every time I pass one, but without fail, upon first squirt - gag. (yes, I know how that sounds) Seriously though, I don't know if I should give up sanitizer, or vodka. Something tells me that sanitizer will soon be out. My stomach can't handle it.

Speaking of drinking. If you're a public vomitter - I have one thing to ask you, please don't vomit on the goddamn stairs. There are SO MANY other places where you can safely deposit the contents of your stomach. If you throw up on the steps, one of two (or both) things will happen. Someone will slip and they will curse your name in every language they know with every curse word they can think of. Karma will get you, I guarantee it. Or two, people will be highly irritated from having to maneuver around your mess, so please be kind and vomit into a garbage bin. In fact, the stench might even help you get that valsalva maneuver started.

These people scare me a little...

Here's another group of people who should avoid public walking areas...people who don't know how to push strollers. If you A., push your child into the crosswalk whilst the light is not in your favor and you are safely standing on the curb, you are a bad parent. If you are a caretaker, grandparent, parent, whoever the fuck you are who is pushing the stroller down the street, this is NOT bumper cars. Do not hit me, other strollers or other individuals with your stroller. Also, please please please do not walk slowly in front of me with your other stroller pushing buddies because it's really hard to get around you AND your little child "vehicle".

Lastly, another source of frustration for me lately has been the fact that my friends cannot decide where and when to go on vacation. I was banking on going to Canada at the end of July, but that's a no-go, so now what? I mean I could still go. Yes, there will be some people there, but dammit a few key people who I tend to require for these types of vacation will not be there.

I would really like to convince Mo to come, but she seems set against it. B can't leave the country and Paris might still be injured. Honestly, if I don't plan a vacation in the next month I'm going to freak out. I know this might make me seem like a spoiled brat considering I just got back from Bermuda a month ago - but I'm getting stir crazy folks. I need to get away from the monotony of my life! An impromptu Chicago trip might be just what I need.

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So here's the recap of my Saturday night.I don't know if I mentioned B and I had a bit of a misunderstanding on Thursday and so I didn't know if we were ok for Saturday, but whatever I messaged her anyway because I needed the details. I also woke up at 8am on Saturday because my dad agreed to let the roofers do construction every day starting at 8am, right outside of my window. Thanks, dad. My mom thinks he's an idiot, I just wanted to cry and sleep. I actually had to text my mom and ask her to come into my room so she could walk pants over to me so I could get out of bed to pee.

I ended up going to her house around 9pm I think? I had to drop money off with Ni for this trip in August...oh wait, I guess I am going on vacation...whatever though. Anyway, so I was driving all over the Bronx because that's pretty much what I do. I got to B's and we started to get ready. I was wearing a tiny white dress that my mom  made me feel bad about wearing. Whatever ma, my cooch was covered (if I didn't bend over) and I was wearing fishnets to contain my cellulite. I'm 24 years old, get over it - I'm allowed to dress like a ho if I want to!

Anyway, so we got ready and started taking shots. Brought our obligatory water bottle of vodka with us. I wish it had been stronger - but I underestimated how much Absolut 100 was left in the trunk of my car. I thought I had two bottles, I didn't. I was sad.

B's cousin came to pick us up and drove us down to the pier where we would get on the boat. Thank god, because if I took too long of a stride my dress was going to ride up, so the less walking, the better. I was also coming in at just over 6 feet tall because I was wearing 4 inch heels? Yikes.

Basically the boat ride was a ton of fun. The vodka didn't last the whole night and I ended up buying two long islands at $14 a pop (RIDICULOUS). Everyone (mostly) looked wonderful. Trust me - there were more ho-ey ladies than just me. At least I looked KIND OF classy. I did harass the DJ, which is what I tend to do when I drink. Hey - people ask me to request songs and I do it. I also straddled a man who was spanking me non-chalantly at one point. I don't remember what made me get up, I probably realized wtf I was doing. I'm happy for him though, because I believe he found a lady to take him home at the end of the night.

We got back to B's and I was sober - and so I drove home to see Steel Pans! Well, actually I just kind of left the door open for him and fell asleep naked. It works best this way. I think our arrangement is fine. He left at some point on Sunday. I actually fell asleep before him which is a first. We were pretend cutesy in the morning. My mom also decided that she wanted to get mad about me having company. She does that sometimes - because I guess she didn't think I was home so she walked up to the shower on the third floor naked and what if Steel Pans had walked out? Whatever ma, I never remember to put the post-it on the mirror - this is what happens when your boomerang child is home. Must get used to it, must.

P.S. My legs have been sore for days thanks to my heels. I have weak thighs :(