Red Like A Bordello

I must redeem myself!

2004-12-23T14:20:00.000-05:00

I was browsing through my past entries to this blog and I noticed something: Most of my entries are bitching! If I did not know me, I would read this and think I am the crankiest person on the planet. And I am not gonna name names, but there are many more grouchy people out there (you know who you are).
For some reason, unless it is a drunken story, I do not like to write about the other sides of my life. Great, now I am showing myself to the world (or the three people who actually read this) as an angry drunk.
In reality I am pretty happy and optimistic. Maybe I have been sucked into the new American ideals imposed by reality TV.......nothing is interesting unless there is conflict. Who wants to read about how I finished a book last night, or how I did not hit that much traffic this morning?
Hmmmm, in order to prove my dedication to embrace the happy as well as the grumpy I will tell a cheerful story. A happy story about the dentist of all things. Last night I went to get two cavities filled, and I was dreading having a numb mouth and tingly face all night. Lo and behold, when I sat down in the chair they informed me they had a new technique of air-abrasion where I would require no novacaine and would feel no pain. A half hour later I was out of there, sans-cavities, with all sensations intact. I went and got a salad and crunched away on it as soon as I got home. Now that is joy.

Sigh.

2004-12-23T08:51:00.000-05:00

I am sad. Stuck at work, knowing I will have to be at work tomorrow, Christmas Eve. Where I will sit and do nothing, because we are not busy at all this week. When I could be at home in CT cuddled up with my dog.
Everyday this week I came into work and sat in front of the computer for 9 hours, feeling intelligence and the spark of life leech out of me. My friends are at work but are equally as uninspired, so we have little to say to each other. As my life has suddenly become extraordinarily dull, I cannot even find the moxy to start an interesting topic of conversation.
Everything I find remotely interesting I have googled.
Every smart ass remark I could make to my friends has been used.
All my internet shopping has been completed.
Now all I have left is to sit in my windowless office and be bitter that I am here. Even though I have nothing to do. Even though my boss has come in hours late all week. Even though all my friends have at least tomorrow off (if not more) and are going to be with their loved ones tonight. And I will be alone in my apartment.
Yes, I am whiney. Boo-hoo, poor me, cry me a river. All I know is I want my dog. I wanna chill with the fam. I don't want to run around like a nut tomorrow after work. I want to wake up and drink tea in front of my parent's fake Christmas tree. I wanna see the boy toy. I want these last few hours to pass at a pace quicker than a snail moves!!!!!!!!
Sigh.

WTF Kind Of Crack Are You Smoking?

2004-11-18T16:12:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was sitting at my desk at work, wasting the day away, when do-do-bloop, an window pops up saying "Bastard" (all names changes to protect assholes) had sent me an IM, did I wish to accept? Not realizing I was about to talk to Bastard, I accepted.
It was my ex Andrew! To my shock he was IMimg me to ask me what I was doing, and if I wanted to try to get a job at his roommate's company.
In my head I was wondering why after three years of not talking to Bastard, after I dumped Bastard because he called me a slut and told me to get out of his house (all because I refused to do something slutty with him) which made me cry (his awesome reaction was to pin me down for two hours not letting me leave), after Bastard tried to win me back by telling me he "loved me because I would do anything for him", after Bastard called me a whore because after we broke up I ended up hanging out with people he was friends with (I guess he forgot we met through the same people), while simultaneously trying to get me to hang out with him, after Bastard saw me and my roomie at a bar two years later and nicely (so I thought, do I never learn?) offered to give us a ride home, then ditched us and the rest of his friends......the stories continue, but I am sure you get the point. He was a bastard.
Oh, silly Bastard, what has gotten into you? Why oh why did you think it would be cool to try to talk to me? Unless you are contacting me because you realized you have serious mental health issues and it is part of a twelve step program for your ex-girlfriends to kick you in the balls, I don't want to hear from you. Actually having to kick you in the balls would get me too close to you. But I do not mind pointing and laughing if that would help.

Artificial Energy How I Luv Thee

2004-11-18T15:56:00.000-05:00

Many years ago I ended an affair I had been having with a substance guaranteed to have me bouncing off the walls and unable to sleep. Unfortunately it had started having adverse effects on me, like nervousness and crankiness and nausea. I had gone years without touching the stuff until a few days ago when I got an insatiable craving. Oh, I did it. I walked downstairs and bought myself a CAFFEINATED diet Pepsi. I drank it. And I liked it. A lot.
What has followed is an endless string of crushed cans and bouncing knees and babbling stories. I am happy as long as it is coursing through my veins. I stole quarters from my boss so I could feed my addiction. I bought bottles to bring to work every day. I feel alive again!
I sit at my desk, my mind working at dizzying speeds, thinking of new ways to get caffeine in my system. I am gonna buy green tea. I am gonna drink Red Bull. Mountain Dew. Mocha-chinos. Expresso!
Oh, legalized speed, how could I have stayed away so long?

Will I Ever Escape Myself?

2004-11-17T09:47:00.000-05:00

24 years ago a little baby girl was born to the world. In June. June 17th to be exact. Which made her......a gemini.
Obviously this little girl is me, I am sure you can tell if you have read the other posts that I am fairly ego-centric and ALL the posts are about me.
Anyhow, on the up-side, geminis are charming, intelligent, knowledgeable on many subjects, quick witted, always ready to have fun.
On the down-side, they are flighty. I read horoscopes that say I am easily distracted, I will never have a hobby for more than a short period of time, I will never be passionate about my career, and I will never have a satisfying long term relationships. And I think to myself, "That is such bull shit! I am SO capable of staying dedicated."
Then I look at the pile of watercolors in my room that I played with for a week, bought lots more supplies to and never touched again. I think about the fact that I am aware of lots of organizations I could join concerning my job and I just don't feel like it. I think about how I have moved six times in the last two years, and plan on moving twice more in the next six months. I consider the fact that I leave my apartment two weekends out of every month because if I stay in the same place too long I get bored and depressed. And I look at the trail of guys I have dated and then lost interest in.
I feel this happening again and again. And I wonder if I have to just tell myself, "Shut up, you are not bored with this! You are just being a gemini! Get over it, not everything is gonna be super-fun!" Am I doomed to wander the earth searching for the next bit of amusement? Will I never settle down and be content with what is within my grasp? I would answer these questions, but I have lost interest in writing this......

Can I Kick You In The Head Please?

2004-11-09T14:33:00.000-05:00

Today I am grumpy. The kind of grumpy where if someone bumps into me I have to fight the urge to punch them in the gut. The kind of grumpy where the idea of punching someone in the stomach makes me happy. And then grumpy cause I can't do it without getting arrested or fired. I wanted my boss to be rude to me today. Because that way I could throw a temper tantrum and storm out. At the moment he is the only one I have to take my frustration out on.
I also envisioned different scenarios where my friends could be rude to me, and how I would make them cry with my cutting remarks.
Unfortunately I am too fucking nice to really do any of this stuff. Which makes me grumpy. But thinking about it releases some of the tension. However I realize that even though I do not act on these sadistic thoughts, there is something wrong with the fact that I even have them. So if you fuck with me, I will make you cry, punch you in some soft spot (whichever I deem to be your most sensitive), and then will leave you in a huff so you can ponder why in the world I am acting like I am possessed. Of course this will all be in my head. But you will see the smile it brings to my face, and think to yourself, "Wow, is she in a great mood today."

Now I Know What A Sausage Feels Like

2004-10-12T13:52:00.000-05:00

UUUUuuuuuurrrrrgh......I am BLOATED. So bloated I sat down and the snap to my pants popped open. So bloated that even though I am sweating I am keeping my jacket on so I can leave them that way. I think I am holding the equivalent of two extra gallons of water in my gut. My skin is stretched to the point where if you stuck a fork in me juices would run out, just like the Thanksgiving turkey your mom makes ever year.
I want a MuuMuu.

Don't Leave Me!

2004-09-10T13:49:00.000-05:00

Summer is almost over and this makes me a lil sad.....it is already getting darker out earlier, trees are turning pretty colors.....pretty soon people will want to crawl back into thier apartments to wait out the viciousness of the new england winter. Boooooooo.
No more outdoor bars, no more weekend trips to the beach, no more driving with the windows down. Arrgh!
Why did I decide to plant myself in Massachusetts? Maybe because me sassiness will not allow me to make friends who can deal anywhere else. So as punishment for my attitude problem I have to walk very quickly to work through 12" high piles of slush so my nose does not fall off of my face. Can't wait!
Anyhow, this sudden melancholy fit has inspired me to listen to lots of pretty yet depressing music...Radiohead, Coldplay, the Garden State soundtrack (get it! it is melt your heart bittersweet). And this does not really help my mood. But it makes me want to curl in my bed and lay there, so considering that is what everyone else will be doing for the next 8 months anyhow I might as well join the crowd. Sigh.

I luv today!

2004-08-06T15:03:00.000-05:00

Today is one of the best days I have had in a long time. Why, you ask? Because I am leaving to start my cruise adventure tonight, so I am looking at a full nine days without work (JOY) and I got a raise today, without me having to ask or mention anything! Even more joy!
Lady luck smiles on me. I plan to take advantage of the next week and squeeze in as much fun and amusement as I possibly can. I vow to leave behind stresses like annoying boys, breaking cars, and pervy men. Fuck you alarm clock, I have no need of thee! Goodbye commuter rail, my underwear-less bum will not warm your cushy plastic seats. Stupid customers, find someone else to annoy so much they role their eyes right in your face! Cell phone, perhaps now I can break your vicious hold on every aspect of my life.....Adieu, adieu!!!!! In other words, lata dorks!
(And hello to booze and excess of food, laughing and swimming, kareoke, more booze, snorkeling, shopping for silver, diving with stingrays......joy joy JOY!)

I am not a crazy feminist....

2004-07-29T10:20:00.000-05:00

But lately I have wanted to get some estrogen fueled aggression out on the male race. Because for some reason I seem to have a "please touch me inappropriately, or make me feel uncomfortable with sexual comments, no matter who you are" sign stuck on my back. Or maybe my pheremones just chemically send of this vibe, I do not know.
The latest episode was yesterday, when I was getting my car fixed. The shop I bring my beast to is owned by a client from my old job, he is very nice and we have had a friendly relationship, like when I come in he will have beers to drink and I sit in the shop and talk to him. The last two times I went his employee was there and joined in the conversations. They are both nice, attractive thirty-something guys, and I liked how I was friendly with the people fixing my car; I thought this would prevent them from screwing me over. Yesterday I brought my car in, and the owner was away on vacation. Fine, no big deal, I just needed to get my rust bucket fixed. Next thing you know, he is commenting on my thong (I should have gone sans, read previous post) and asking for a free show.....WTF?, I was thinking, but I kept a smile on my face and said, "Sorry, I am just not that kind of girl." Then I yawned. He says, "I am boring you? Why don't we go for a walk, I can keep you stimulated." Um, now I just felt straight out weird....these comments continued, and I dodged sexual innuendo bombs with the grace of a drunken wino. As I was leaving, he decided it would be a great idea to GRAB MY ASS.....
WTF!!?? And then he backs away from the office where another dude was working and says, "Come here...."
Yeah right dude, you back out of the view of the only other person and I am gonna come towards you? Were we not just discussing your wife? Did your wedding ring not blatantly shine on your finger? I jumped in my car and bolted....fucker, I hate how men can make you feel like you are being chased down by Jason, creepy ski mask included....(see, if you just read that statement I sound like a empowered vagina-monologue-worshipping She-ra who saves her menstrual blood and offers it to mother nature).
To the dude who follows me from the train telling me how he would "eat my pussy so good" and how my "ass is dope"....this is probably not going to convince me to let you try your art of pussy eating on me, go smoke more crack and leave me alone.
To my boss' father who, until I flipped out, continued to kiss me on the lips and call me "his little girlfriend," I am your employee, not your mistress...and I barely tolerate your concession to just kiss me on the cheek now because I need a freakin job and do not wanna have to act more pissy than I did when got I fed up with wiping your spit off my lips.....(shudder, if it had always been the on the cheek kiss I would never have thought twice, but now you have me all paranoid that you are gonna sucker kiss me)
To the asian guy who squeezed my hip/upper thigh as he got up from his seat on the train and then smirked at me in glee....um, I guess I am happy I was part of putting some joy into your life, but really, you fucking gross me out.
To the coworker from my internship that still sometimes calls me from different numbers 3 years later....when we all went out for happy hour I thought I made it clear that I did not want to go to a motel with you, even if I was "tired" I did not want to find a bed to lay down in (I was trying to get out of an awkward situation you dumb wit) and I do not feel bad that since your wife had just had a kid 6 weeks ago you probably were not getting any nook....not my problem! And I am not gonna call you the next time I am home.
To my customers I have only talked to for all of 3 minutes...no, I do not want to date you, I will not feel obligated to go out to lunch with you because you tipped me $5 (so keep your money, even if I was a prostitute I would cost a lot more than that) , nor do I want to invite you out next time I go out with my roommates (so don't bother leaving me your cell number, I am sure the wife you were just talking about would not appreciate that anyhow)....I know I have great sicilian hips, yes, my (pretend) boyfriend appreciates what a package I am.....
I know there are tons of cool dudes out there, and I appreciate them all (really, I love fun crazy boys as much as the next girl...Call me!), but for the rest of you sleeze bags out there, I warn you....next time something happens I will grab your balls and squeeze until you cry before I ask any questions....

Why I choose to go sans-panties....

2004-07-14T09:33:00.000-05:00

Rumor has it that going sans-undies is an expression of sexual wildness; the fact that there is one less layer of clothing to remove in the heat of the moment seems to be a big turn on to guys.
I have been choosing to go without a lot lately, but honestly I must say it has nothing to do with my being a sexually liberated twenty-something female. I like panties, they are cute and fun and girlie and a cheap adition to the wardrobe that can make you feel a little sassy.
Anyhow, the reason I sometimes choose to save myself the effort of lifting each leg two more times a day (four if you count taking them off again) is because I can't find any that will FIT me....once again the family curse of Italian hips mocks me. Much to my mother's disappointment and multiple efforts of finding the "perfect" style of undies for me, I have decided it is an impossible task. If they fit in the hips, they are super saggy in the crotch. If they fit nicely over all the naughty stuff, they cut into the chub on my sides making rolls I do not have nor do I want.
The other reason is that they hang out of my pants constantly. My roommates have given me countless wedgies as, like raccoons, they are unable to resist grabbing onto shiny objects. My mother cringes every time I sit down. My grandmother has screamed in public places, unable to contain her shock, "Your underwear is showing!"
No shit Grandma.
Now I find out at work they have a poll, called "Color of the Day." The color of the day is whatever color thongs I have on. Great guys, glad I could add a little something to look forward to each morning, another reason to wake up and face the grind.
So if anyone knows of a style of undies (besides granny, while I am not going sans-panties for freaky reasons, I am unwilling to touch the libido crushing power of the granny-panty, it might rub off and become permanent) please advise.

I am a horrible person...maybe.

2004-07-09T12:40:00.000-05:00

So Tuesday I came into work and the first thing my boss' father tells me is that my boss has a brain tumor and was getting operated on in an hour. WTF? As I had not even had my coffee yet I sort of blink incoherently up at him and said, "Um, are you kidding me?"
"No, honey, I am not. You know how he has been light headed whenever he stood up and has been getting headaches all the time?"
Flashback to the last few weeks where I had been getting extraordinarily annoyed at my boss for sitting in his chair and asking me to run around the shop and do EVERYTHING for him....
I can remember thinking, "You lazy bastard, what am I, your freakin go-fer?"
Cringe.
Along came Thursday, after a hectic week...OK, um, three days (but it was stressful, I swear!)... of printers and computers breaking, customers calling asking where their F-ing stuff was and me not being able to accomplish much of anything, I was in need of a happy hour. I followed two of the guys down to the local dive, and after 4 or 5 rounds I spilled my shameful secret...that I am a self-centered inconsiderate bitch.
"Actually, he has always been like that," they told me. "He will do anything in his power to get out of doing any work."
Hmm...so I am not a bitch? Or maybe the brain tumor had been growing for years affecting his drive, and I still am a bitch because I should not get mad at a sick man for being lazy? I think I answered my own question....I have turned his tumor into something all about me....I will go now. To cringe more.

Its raining men...in a scary Day After Tomorrow sort of way....

2004-06-08T15:12:00.000-05:00

The last 3 guys I have dated have been nightmares. I know, boo hoo, poor me. Really though, watch me move back through the countdown.
most recent guy:
SLACKER: Lots and lots of fun, and really cute, but just got fired from his job for not being able to show up on time. I mean, for not being able to show up at all, or even call to say he was not going in. Did the same thing to me two times before I cut it off.
Guy before that:
ASSHOLE: Was successful in his career and made really good money but flaunted it, told me how he carried everyone in his office and pantomined helping them by giving them files about clients, rolling his eyes and saying "fine, take it, I don't care, I have enough to do." I stopped talking to him when even after I told him he could not stay over because I had to, um, make my lunch he still tried taking my clothes off....even as I was pushing him out of the door. He grabbed my hand, put it on his package, and said, "But don't you want me?" No, I can honestly say I don't.
Guy before that:
NOT THE BRIGHTEST BULB: Really nice guy, but let people walk all over him, and was talking to a friend of mine and said, "I am smart, I listen to talk radio. And I keep up with, um, what do you call them...uh......current events, I keep up with current events."

Nuff said.

Oh, sun poisoning here I come.

2004-06-07T15:18:00.000-05:00

Lately I have had ants in my pants. Why? Because I am SICK of WORK and I am going on a CRUISE. That's right, ladies and gents, this pasty skinned girl is going to the Caribbean for a week. Things I have done to prepare:
Promised to design a logo (done) to put on T-shirts for the family to wear (0 down, 40 left to go. so no, it is not done).
Bought ass cream to make my legs smooth and supple. My roommate loves the way my ass cream smells. So next time you are around me you can pretend to be a dog and sniff my butt, it will be verrry nice. My sister's boyfriend's step dad once tried that. But that was before ass cream.
Started SB diet to make the rest of my body supple (the ass cream is way to expensive to use on my whole body unfortunately).
I have spent ridiculous amounts of money on summery clothing. I have not bought a bathing suit yet though, I am waiting to get every last drop of ass cream into effect before I go into the fitting room for that.
I have started resenting work because I know that I will be on a freakin CRUISE in two months. I want it now. I do not want to sit in my windowless office. I want to be outside, so lathered up with sunscreen that I could stand on the sun and not get burnt. Because that is one of the negative things I expect to have to deal with after the cruise: a nice blistering peeling case of sun poisoning. I get sun poisening if I drive my car for more than 45 minutes. In New England. So Jamaica should be fun. Ever hear skin sizzle like bacon? I will make sure I record it for you.
I also expect to have a massive hangover, massive memory loss, and massive credit card debt.
Look at me, I am dreaming of being away from work for a vacation, but here I am staying late to write about how I want to leave......lata dorks!

AAaaaahhhhhrgggg %^@*&#@

2004-06-02T13:40:00.000-05:00

Sometimes my boss forgets he has hands and feet. He will be sitting at his computer, IMing his girlfriend, and will say, "Hey, put the red vinyl in that machine?" I am, of course, in the middle of writing the text for a rush brochure that needs to be done tomorrow. So, no, boss, I don't mind, it's not like I was WORKING or anything. Grrrr.
He will be talking to a customer and take their order and when they leave he turns to me and says, "Here you go, go ahead and lay that out." Grrrrrrr.
Or I will be putting tint on the railing upstairs so I can save the time bringing it downstairs (you know, I have lots of stuff to lay out) and he will stand at the bottom of the stairs and say, "I will take that." and then he waits until I walk it down to him. Grrrrrrr.
All I have to say is: where is my sugar daddy(no knight in shining armor for me, I am too mean from all the abuse I have taken and would smush him and his sissy horse).
At least I have my blog, so instead of putting the red vinyl in the machine I can slack off, just like you, boss, I learned it from watching you.

Ahhhhhh, Friday

2004-05-07T13:12:00.000-05:00

I have been upset lately because of my crappy old alarm clock. I cannot find WBCN on the slider, which is the Boston station that carries Howard.....so last night I fiddled with the alarm clock for a second until I heard something loud. Good enough!
This morning my dreams became very odd.....everyone was speaking Spanish. And I understood them (I am not bilingual, I know how to say perro, cervesa, pico de gallo (see last post) etc., but that is about it).
I was in a tropical room with my husband, we were trying to go get our kidnapped child from terrorists, but a spy was in the room with us, asking us things (in Spanish of course) like, "Do you know how to say Great Aunt? Good. I like that word. GREAT AUNT." Since I wanted to act casual I was doing leg lifts on the bed, which had a white lace duvet cover.....
Turns out I had one of the Spanish radio stations blaring in my ear....my mind must have made up what all the words meant.
I wish some Jamaican fortune teller read my blog, they could tell me what the hell symbolism was in that dream.

I have been bad, very bad.

2004-05-06T12:55:00.000-05:00

I have neglected my little blog. I am sorry, I am a horrible mother to my brain child. I will try to make amends. But not know, I am hung over from Cinco de Mayo! Did you know pico de gallo means chicken's beak?

Do I have Tourettes Syndrome?

2004-04-13T13:38:00.000-05:00

As it is just my boss and I in our little office we do not have the need for cubicles. Usually I like this, because it is one of the perks of not working in corporate america. However, today I wanted the fabric covered plywood more that I have desired anything before.
Here is the thing: sometimes I become engrossed in my own little world and block out what is going on around me. This includes my boss, the phone ringing, customers walking in the door...I zone out like nobody's business.
So I was taking a break and poking through the news and saw an article about how much Bush paid in taxes this year. Interested, I clicked on the link and a picture popped up of Bush walking his cute rectangle head dog. And I barked at the computer. I did not think about it, it just came flying out of my mouth, "Arf!"
Realizing what I had done I slapped my hand over my mouth, and ducked behind my computer. The customer was on his way out, so I did not see his reaction, but I felt pretty stupid explaining to my boss why I barked like a dog out of nowhere. Who DOES that? Once again, I succeeded in weirding myself out.

Peeing in public can get you arrested.

2004-03-29T14:18:00.000-05:00

I think my friends and I need to remember this fact when we go out drinking. Saturday I ventured into Boston with one of my roomies and her cousin. Her cousin nicely offered to drive, and we all had a beer or two before leaving. Halfway there she suddenly got an urge to pee too strong to ignore. Since we were on the Pike, about to go into a tunnel, there was no place on the side of the road to pull over to take care of business. This is where our drunken minds took over. She pulled over, and I crawled into the drivers seat, she quickly ran to take my place in the back of the car. We located an empty McDonalds cup and she proceeded to relieve herself into it. She almost filled the damn thing (she had to stop before it overflowed), and threw it out of the window. I would have hated to be the person behind us, dodging pee bombs on the highway is not my idea of fun. After we stopped laughing about this we got to the parking garage, where she and I both peed one more time next to the car.
At the club we had fun, drinking and peeing (in the bathroom this time, just in case you doubted), peeing and laughing, dancing and peeing...you get the idea. Our bladders were working overtime.
Soon everyone was sleepy and craving McDonalds (maybe because of the earlier view of the arches on the cup), so we headed out. When we got to the car we all had to (you guessed it) pee again. We all dropped trou and started doing our business. My roomie's cousin and I were smart about it, having had a little more training earlier in the night, but my roomie did not put quite as much thought into it. She squatted right in front of our car, in the empty parking space in front of us. None of us recalled that we had parked right in front of the exit, and as it was 2 in the morning other bar hopping fools would be leaving as well. The sound of approaching tires had myself and the cousin pulling up our pants pronto. My roomie, on the other hand, was in too much bliss to even care. A car full of seven guys pulled past us, and the sound of their echoing laughter filled the garage. I started to laugh myself....until they reversed and stopped directly in front of my still urinating roomie. Running over I tried to stand in front of her to block their view, but this had no effect. One of the guys got out of the car and handed me a wad of napkins for my roomie to wipe with. She finished and got up, wiggling into her pants, the guys invited us to go to a hotel with them (maybe in some cultures peeing in public means you are looking to go party? I don't understand the logic here), and we jetted. It wasn't until the next day that we realized that the guys had probably gotten more of a peep show than we thought...but ce la vie..or should I say ce la pee? (I know that was horrible, but I could not help myself, my dad's corny pun gene took over).

Why my mom used to call me Grace.

2004-03-26T13:25:00.000-05:00

Yesterday a very nice client of mine came in to pick up something I had made for him. He brought his boss, and jokingly said to him, "I told you she was hot."
This made me a little flustered, as unexpected compliments are bound to do. He followed that up with, "Kate, if I wasn't married..." which made me even more out of sorts. I started rushing around my small office, grabbing his invoice, going back to my desk for a pen, going back to pick the invoice up, turning around to pick up his credit card where I had left it, and then SMASHING INTO THE CLOSED SLIDING GLASS DOOR.
Yeah I'm real hot. As long as you think the bugs that get smushed on your car's grill are hot.

Yeah yeah yeah. ROCK!

2004-03-19T15:43:00.000-05:00

I have a new favorite band, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. The music psyches me up, puts me in a good mood.....even the name is so fun....
I am finally feeling better since I went out for St. Patty's day (just for a drink or two, of course), and stayed out till 1:00 in the morning......reminds me of the good old days....
Anyhow I experienced new positives and negatives about my new place.
NEGATIVE: On St. Patty's day we went to one of the two Irish bars near us....Bennagins. Lame. So close to Boston and all that Southie would have offered...and yet stuck at a commercial "Irish" bar with character consisting of bartenders with clovers stuck to their foreheads.
POSITIVE: I saw a bunch of cool people I knew from my college days, got their digits, so the social aspect is looking up.
NEGATIVE: The bathroom is on the second floor, and I am on the third. Normally not a big deal, but when it is 2 in the morning and you realize you are going to be horrendously hung over for work the next day and you should fall asleep IMMEDIATELY to take advantage of every second left in the night......well then you can understand why I debated peeing in a water bottle. Luckily reason prevailed and I stumbled downstairs. Cause there is no way I would have been able to control my aim, and then I would have a much more embarrassing story to tell here.
POSITIVE: People will buy you drinks as incentive to get you to stay at the bar until it closes....I said I was bored at 9:30 and did not pay for another drink all night. No way would that have happened in Boston.
NEGATIVE: I live farther from work now.....so when my roomie hears my alarm go off at 6:15 and comes into the room to talk, and finds me sleeping even though the Howard Stern show is screaming in my ear, and when I turn it of and say "Shhhh, just a few more minutes, shhhh. Shhhhh. Shh. Shhhhh ( I really did this many Shhhhs)," and then I don't set it again and wake up at 8:45 and was supposed to be at work at 8:00.....that makes my lateness even worse, as I did not get to work until 10:00. And the stamps on my hands from cool bars like Bennagins offer ample proof of why I failed to wake up on time. And if that didn't give it away, then my booze breath and glazed eyes and yesterday's makeup certainly did. I was hurting. Seriously, ouch.
But now I am feeling GREAT! Yeah yeah yeah.

Weird weird weird thought I have.

2004-03-09T13:01:00.000-05:00

Everyday on my way to work I take the red line. One of the stops on the subway is called "Andrew." This of course reminds me of my ex boy-toy Andrew. This connection makes sense to me; I think any girl who dated a guy named Andrew might think this. But then my mind takes it to weird places.
Andrew was a real jerk. I do not want to even write down what made him such a jerk, because I am ashamed that I actually let someone be such an ass to me.
Anyhow, in my head the train I am on takes on some strange phallic symbolism, and the subway stop becomes Andrew. So every day I think, "Who's getting fucked now, you bastard!"
Sometimes I even creep myself out with my weird thoughts.

Its good to be good to your friends.

2004-03-08T12:55:00.000-05:00

So this weekend I was determined to go out and get a lil buck wild because last weekend was fully dedicated to moving, and I was too exhausted to have any fun. My two roomies, being the great friends they are, decided they would help me in my cause. We went to a party, played some beirut (a.k.a. beer pong) and some quarters, in which a silly rule baptized my roommates Stinky Stink Pants and Grundle Licker (sometimes you have to love the fart humor, ya know?).
As the night progressed Grundle Licker and I became nervous that the beer supply was running a little low, and as Stinky Stink Pants was driving, that left the two of us to make sure we did not get the shaft. We were not going to be the fools who paid a whole five dollars and only drank eight beers! We were not born yesterday.
So anyhow, numerous beers and a few shots later my roomie Grundle Licker was weaving and bobbing. It was time to take her home and put her to bed. However, in the car we realized that we might have to make a pit stop on the way. Drunken spins had taken over, and my girl was about to lose her lunch.
Let me explain something about Grundle Licker. Because of an accident, she lost a tooth, and has a retainer with a falsie so she is not all snaggle faced. When she is intoxicated the tooth ends up in the oddest places, under couch cushions, in the trash, behind the toilet, in our guy friend's pocket....once she even got sick and did not realize the force of the puke had knocked it out of her mouth. Oh, she flushed it, and as hard as she worked the plunger the retainer was not coming back up. Not that she would have really wanted to put it back in her mouth anyhow.
Now that you know Grundle Licker's background you can understand why, once we had pulled over and were on the side of the highway, I handled her an elastic for her hair and told her, "Give me your tooth."
After the dirty deed was done, we stumbled back to the car. Turning to Stinky Stink Pants, eyes watery (either from puking or with tears, I am not sure) she said, "Kate is such a good friend, she held my tooth....I did not even have to ask. She just knew.....she just knew."
This just goes to show you, it's the little things (and sometimes the icky stuff) that really makes you know somebody cares.

How I invited some perverts to contact me.

2004-03-05T15:53:00.001-05:00

So if you have been reading my posts you know that last Monday I was surrounded by hot dudes on the train. But something particularly struck me about the guy sitting directly across from me. First I noticed that he was reading The Da Vinci Code, I wanted to ask him if he thought it was good but not as good as everyone had made it out to be (cause that’s what I thought. as if you care).
Anyhow, while I was pondering this my gaze dropped and to my surprise there was something HUGE in his pants. Quickly I looked away, but my curiosity was kicked into overdrive. All I could think was...is that really HIM? or does he stuff? So I kept staring at it in the reflection in the windows of the train, trying to come to a conclusion on way or another. Now, unlike some of my girl friends I am not obsessed with the huge penis. But this was freakishly large. I wanted to know in a pay-a-quarter-to-see-the-half-man-half-donkey-carnie sort of way.
When I got home I started to wonder if this guy had noticed me staring at his junk. If so, then I became the freak. Either way the situation struck me as amusing, so the next day I decided to tell my story on my favorite work time-waster, Craigslist. What I did not realize was the responses I would get back.

Here is my original post in the missed connections catagory:

To the guy sitting near me on the train yesterday....sorry I kept staring at your package, I was just trying to figure out if that was real...if so, WOW, I feel bad for the girls you have slept with! If not, hey, good try, it certainly got my attention, even if I think you are a weirdo for doing it.

Response:
Details details please.. Orange line inbound from Oak Grove to Haymarket?

My response to him:
Um, no, it was not on the Orange line....but it is good to know there is a guy who stuffs his pants on the Orange line inbound from Oak Grove to Haymarket.
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So anyhow all of this is silly and funny and wasting time at work. What I had not seen yet were the posts to my email account (if you do not know Craigslist, people can email you privately and do not have to post their responses back publicly like the gentleman above.)

In my Inbox:

Was it me? I was riding around the blue line last night and had that very thing happen to me. I was a bit embarresed, but of course, like to show off somewhat as well. If you did see me and my 9...love to chat some more.
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I'm not sure if it was me you were talking about or not but I was having one of those mornings and I'm sure it was obvious to some of the people on the train. What line were you on?
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First off, I doubt you and I met on the Train yesterday, but if you were the hottie sitting accross from me, who looked away each time I saw you. I get very hard on the ride home, something to do with the bouncing of the Train. It absolutely drives me wild to think that you were starring at my package.
Don't worry I won't say anything to you, for fear that it wasn't you, but if it was, shoot me a smile and know that I will be fantasizing about you tonight.
mystery rider
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Haha I liked your post. If your post was dated about a week ago I would think that was for me. I was on the Red line coming in wearing black CK pants and medium tight CK boxer briefs (only ironic - I am not obsessed with Calvin Klein).
This girl sitting across from me was staring at my package the whole ride practically and then she looks up when we got to Park Street and mouths 'shit' and then she says on her way out the door its bec of you i missed my stop. I think she was suppose to get off at Downtown crossing. I am assuming it was because of my package (I do have somewhat of a bulge - especially iin those pants where it really shows) hehe.
Well at least you got off to a good day - although not if your mind was wandering all day hehe. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to have you sit across from me sometime haha. Have a good day.
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When I looked back on this a few days later I realized that while I was a lil grossed out by these guys, they helped me to extend the wasting of time at work. So even though I sort of invited nasty dudes to tell me thier packages are huge, I still think it was worth it. And if I ever feel the urge for a nine incher, I know who to go to ;)

Stupid Commuter Rail, I hate you.

2004-03-05T13:10:00.000-05:00

This week I moved to the burbs, and now, as a consequence, have to take the dreaded commuter rail. No longer can I shrug if I miss a bus or train, knowing that one will soon follow to sweep me away to my destination. Everyday there has been a calamity of some sort. Monday: The ride in goes well, I get to listen to the radio uninterrupted by the long stretches of static experienced when taking the subway. I am thinking, maybe the commuter rail will not be so bad. The seats are more comfortable, the ride is smoother, I can listen to Stern all I want. I look back at this now and laugh at myself for my naive belief that everything was going to be okay. The ride home partially jerked me back into reality. A forty minute commute somehow turned into an hour and a half commute. But I was somehow surrounded by hot young men, so I was not upset with this. Still I was thinking, hey, it could get worse. And it did. Tuesday I left my apartment at 7:04 to get the train, which according to my handy dandy schedule should come at 7:10. Still in the dream world I inhabited the day before, I walked blissfully until I reached the bridge I have to cross to get on the train. The train was there. Everyone was already on it.
I sprinted towards the purple train as fast as my almost midget legs would take me. But alas, I was not destined to catch that train. As I reached the stairs and watched the train pull away I let out a few choice expletives, as the next commuter rail would not be there for a half hour, and was not an express train. This amused the cross eyed Spanish dude selling papers, apparently he thinks 5'2" girls who are angry and out of breath are wicked funny. I was so irritated I almost spit in his face.
Wednesday on the way home I hoped on the train to go home. Upon entering the train I realized the only seat left open was next to an obese man. I jammed myself down into the crack left open in the double seat. Turning my MP3 player on I tried to distract myself from the fact that I could barely breath because my lungs were being crushed. Now I know what Metallica fans went through. Anyhow, this train turned out to be an express train that did not drop off at my stop. I had to take the train to the next stop and run across the rails to catch the train going in the other direction. The conductor looked at me as though I was an idiot. Which I now know to be true. Once again I got home 45 minutes later than I should have.
Thursday I caught the train in (barely, I had to sprint past the cross eyed Spanish dude. I hope he was tickled pink by the sight of me running). On the way home I asked if the train would be stopping at my stop (yes) found a seat alone (thank god). Halfway home the train came to a stop. We were informed that we could not cross under a bridge because there was a "strike" in it, and they had to have some workers go look at it. Whatever the hell that means. Bored, I started eating the peach Smints I had bought the night before. Before I knew it 45 minutes had past and we had not moved. Now I know why the seats on the commuter rail are more comfortable. They do not want people to sue because they were forced to sit on hard seats for extended periods of time and developed hemorrhoids.
The entire package of Smints was gone. But I was okay with this, because they were sugar free. I decided to read the rest of the package. Hmmm, 20% of your daily recommended vitamin C. Oh, Chupa Chups makes them. I like Chupa Chups. What's this in extremely small writing? ...excessive consumption may induce laxative effect...WHAT!? So there I was, stuck on the train, with peach breath fresheners possibly rushing through my body wrecking havoc on my bowels. I never thought that sitting on the train could be more stressful that dealing with Masshole drivers during rush hour.
This morning I woke up late because I forgot to set my alarm last night, so I had to drive into work. But I really think my subconscious was taking over so I would not take the train.