I can't believe you're reading this.

Monday, May 15, 2006

Desperate Housewives in Bergen County...

Well, it's amazing how exciting my weekends are gradually becoming. But, before we go into the main topic of Saturday, we can go into my Friday night and how I might have lost a chance because of my insecurities.

So, Friday, I went out for my friend Ellen's birthday. We were supposed to go to Tommy Foxes, and I got all dolled up, but we only ended up at Burkes. I got all dressed up to have skeevy old dirty men looking at me. However, the night was pretty fun, I didn't drink that much for the purpose of making another big mistake. I started writing my friend Barb a note on the back of a reciept when my friend Seana "pssd" me in the ear and said some guy was staring in our direction. I looked up really quickly with my hair still in my eyes and then I looked at my friend when the guy caught me looking at him. Shwoo, that was exhausting. Anyways my friend kept urging me to go up and say hi, but what guy goes to a bar by himself? So, I was having a little debate in my head on whether or not I thought the guy was cute and when I finally decided that he was, he got up and walked away. LOL. Just my luck. But then he came back in and circled the bar, walk toward our table looked right at me, turned around and grabbed a straw and then walked out for good.

What the fuck was that all about!?!

So, once again, half of my blog was deleted after I typed about 2 pages. Anyways, I wanted to get into the topic that refers back to my title. On Saturday, my mother was driving me to work (which takes about 3 seconds) when she started telling me some interesting news. As usual her gossip always starts in the same fashion, involving an extremely long description.

"You know that lady who goes to our church, who used to be a little heavy and then she lost all that weight, who has the two kids, her husband is kind of short, and she dyes her hair blond, and sometimes she straightens it and..."
"Yea," getting the point after the first two descriptions.
"Well," my mother inhales a deep breath to continue on. "She was in the front page of the newspaper, because apparently she hired a hitman to kill her husband. You should see what she looks like."
Unfortunately, the drive came to an end and I wasn't able to hear the rest of the story until I went into work and picked up the newspaper. When I looked at the bottom of the front page, I wouldn't be able to recognize that woman. I don't think my mother understands that they don't have beauty parlors in prison to help you look good for the newspapers. And if we understood her to be a beauty conscience woman, I don't think she's all that excited about jumping into showers with strange women that could probably kick her ass. The first thing that came to my mind was not about why this woman would want to kill her husband. We all have our reasons for wanting to kill somebody. I didn't think about why this woman didn't want to get a divorce if things were that bad. Her husband appears to be a strict character and they go to church almost every Saturday and Sunday, and we all know the story about Catholics and divorce. What I really, really wanted to know, is how the hell do you hire a hitman?
Hitmen, loan sharks, and all those other secretive "professions" always seemed like they didn't exist. They were just made up for Law and Order and other crime genres. They were magical gnomes and fairies that lived in a magical forest called "Dark Alley." How do you get in touch with these people? Not that I want to. I was discussing this with my friend Tom and he says this happens all the time. Of course, I agreed with him, but my head was saying: "NO! THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN ALL THE TIME!" Maybe if you were a member of the mafia this may be an everyday casual event, but it doesn't happen around my town. At least I never heard of this happening before. When I was in highschool, I was always curious about how you met up with drug dealers. I was always curious about smoking pot, but I never knew how you met someone. It wasn't until one day this kid was hanging out with this guy that I took to my sophomore dance, and he offered me some acid. I was like here's my chance to experiment. I was excited, we were waiting outside of Quick Check and these two boys who were totally wasted were giving me a chance. It took me a minute to consider when I said yes. However, the boy that took me to the dance, jumps in and says, "No, not her." I was really dissapointed, I didn't need this kid to protect me, but now I'm grateful. This same kid that protected me, actually committed suicide a few years ago, and I'll never be able to forget him.
It just seems so crazy what is becoming every day, casual events. It's no wonder why people are avoiding marriage for fear they're loved one will turn on them. Where's the trust anymore? Well, if I ever see that boy at the bar again, I'll make sure to hand him the straw and say "the straw wins." Got to keep these people happy.


Thursday, May 11, 2006

Weight Gainers Cont.

Yeaaaaa....I'll start tomorrow. It doesn't help when you go to Burger King after a meeting for lunch. I mean I did get a salad, but it was the "extra-fried-chicken-will-still-give-you-a-heart-attack" salad. Oh well. Haha. I'm starting to wish I was living in France so that i could understand the reason why French Women Don't Get Fat. However, there's that new book out Japanese Women Don't Age or Get Fat (or something along those lines.) I should write the book: How Irish Women Stay Fat, Die Young, and Have Multiple Births. But then it might turn into a book about different kinds of beers and how to make a mixed drink. Oh but c'mon! That stereotype is so overplayed! It should really just be called "Irish Women and Their Bad Teeth."

Weight Gainers Cont.

Yeaaaaa....I'll start tomorrow. It doesn't help when you go to Burger King after a meeting for lunch. I mean I did get a salad, but it was the "extra-fried-chicken-will-still-give-you-a-heart-attack" salad. Oh well. Haha. I'm starting to wish I was living in France so that I could understand the reason why French Women Don't Get Fat. However, there's that new book out Japanese Women Don't Age or Get Fat (or something along those lines.) I should write the book: How Irish Women Stay Fat, Die Young, and Have Multiple Births. But then it might turn into a book about different kinds of beers and how to make a mixed drink. Oh but c'mon! That stereotype is so overplayed! It should really just be called Dentures Are a Must and How to Decrease your Bust!

Any who, got to go hunt down some people and tell them to return their overdue books or else we will send our summons and they'll have to spend a night in jail. NO JOKE!


Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Weight Gainers

I am determined to lose weight. Especially now that "bikini season" is just around the corner. Not like I'm going anywhere. Either that or maybe I should get a permanent button tatoo on my belly.

I tried doing the whole weight watchers thing...but I sucked. I'm addicted to food. I should try overeaters anonymous. So I think I'm going to try doing the points system and then keep an update on this thing. Not like its going to offer any inspiration to anyone, but it will be pretty funny to see how bad I am at staying under 20 points.

Today's points: 3,000,000

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Grey's Anatomy

So, I'm beginning to hate this show. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to stop watching it, but I'm very close to reaching into the TV and strangling Meredith and Derek. Especially tonight. I was just waiting for them to go at it right there in the stairwell. But no. At the same time I think it's more appropriate for Meredith to be seeing the vet. He's nicer, but not as sexy as Derek.

Anyways, tonight's show pissed me off because of the ending kiss. I am so desperate for that cute first kiss. I was trying to think back to when I had something like that, but I've never had that really, really nice first kiss. With my ex, we were coming back from the movies and the whole drive back I kept saying to myself "Don't wait just do it." The ride was so quite because the whole time I was cheering myself on saying "Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him." When we pulled up to the front of my dorm room, I just leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips (I was aiming for his cheek, but he turned his head, and well I missed). I was barely out the car door when he peeled off. So, while the trip back from the movies I had cheered myself on, the way into the building consisted of "that was a dumb idea!" It didn't exactly send shivers up and down my body. Now, I keep telling myself, maybe it was a dumb idea.

I always thought of myself as being an 'old-fashioned' kind of girl. But, I don't see any part of my life being old-fashioned at all. I'm always waiting for that first move and I just end up sitting there, waiting. It isn't until I grow my own set (usually with the help of a little vodka) that I make that first move. That's not something I'm too impressed with at all.

My friends are always telling me (and i keep telling myself) that something always happens when you least expect it. But, if I keep pretending to hide or imagining that turn around the corner is anything really going to happen? I'm starting to wonder, what am I really waiting for? Anything? That's not old fashioned, that's just desperate.

My favorite fairytale has always been Sleeping Beauty, and while the Prince wakes the Princess up with a single kiss, I would rather keep on sleeping. Sometimes I think I'm just happier living in my imagination.


Thursday, May 04, 2006

Irish Temper Part 1

I am pissed today.

1). I just typed this entire blog and it deleted.

2). My boss asked me to go off the library's insurance and go under my Dad's Cobra and the library would reimburse me.

3). My boss just told me that she never said that the library would help pay for my tuition. However, when I took the job she said my salary would go up when I was enrolled which would help pay for my classes. She had such a smug look on her face. I almost said a few words in french to her. So I smiled and said "Well, I guess I misunderstood you."

4). I went to LIU to get my student id so I could get into the NYU library, and the guy who makes the IDs took the cable home which connects to the camera. So i have to go back again next week! So much for calling ahead!

5). I have a headache.

The End

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Canal St and Sex Toys

My Saturdays are usually the same. Wake up between 12 and 1. Watch a movie on U.S.A and crochet. Read a book. Eat dinner. And then go out and get smashed. Occaisionally you can throw in work, church, and shopping. This past Saturday was one of the most adventurous Saturdays I've ever had.

My mother, sister, and I woke up around nine and left for the city at ten. We then proceeded to ride the subway to 4th st. to go visit the NYU campus so I could figure out how to get to my classes. For some reason when we got off the subway my mom walked down a flight of stairs to another level of subway, and I was like if your trying to exit a subway, why would you go down?? Anyways, we figured out how to get there and it was pretty easy. The only problem was that we couldn't go into the library because you needed a student i.d. Good way to keep the homeless people out and crazy mothers complaining that they have to use the facilities. I must say the Bobst Library is HUGE (they gave me a snooty attitude for pronouncing it wrong, however.)

We then proceeded to walk over to Canal St. for some knockoff shopping. They sold these little baby turtles that were sooooooo cute, but my mother said "no." I would probably kill them anyways. SO as we were walking down Canal St, a whole bunch of vendors and "vendors" were tempting us with Coach, Burberry, Chanel, Prada, watches, DVDs, and the list continues, even a few spare radio parts. A man came up to me and showed me a picture of a Louis Vuitton, and my mother asked if he was selling me drugs.

Finally, a young woman wearing a baseball cap came up to me and asked me, "Do you like Coach?"

"Yea, sure." I answered.

She led us into a shop that was selling jewlery, bags, clothing, as well as some other knicknacks, when she led us straight into a white wall. She went straight up to the wall and opened a "secret door." The door led us down to a dark and dirty basement, and it was at this point that my mother freaked out.

"No!!!" she began to pull my arm away from the doorway. "No!! We're leaving!"

"No, no, no. Nothing to be scared of. It's ok," the woman said trying to calm my mother down. She was probably afraid that my mother was going to bring the cops in. She called to someone in the basement, and a young woman appeared in the stairwell. "See, it's safe."

Basements always remind me of safe environments. I told my mom it would be ok. Relax. We continued down the stairs with my sister dragging behind. The basement was packed with shoppers going in and out of little rooms buying pocketbooks, luggage, sunglasses, etc. My mother then began her shopping hiatus. She went from drama queen to bargain queen. Trying to make deals with all the vendors. Although her tip to me was always, "Just ask five dollars less than the asking price." Wow. Good tip. Unfortunately, the pocketbooks were all crap. I did by a pretty decent Coach, but when I paid for it the ladies were laughing and speaking in a different language. It reminded me of when I used to get my nails done and the Asian ladies would talk to eachother, and I would laugh with them even though I didn't know what they were saying. The ladies in the basement were clearly saying, "This one is a real jackass. And she needs to pluck her eyebrows."

The rest of the day mainly consisted of walking, almost getting run over by hustlers escaping the cops, buying a prom dress for Michelle, and riding the bus back home. Ahh, which continues the second part of this story: the Sex Toy Party.

Now, while I was at college I went to a Passion Party, which consisted of taste testing flavored massage oils, numbing creams, "fun-filled" games (we had to unscrable words and the hostess mispelled masturbation), and well dildos and vibrators. At this most recent party well, let's just say it was an experience. A few times I felt sick to my stomach. I will end the sex toy party here, because I realize I don't need to offend anybody with my honest review. However, the rest of the night continued at a bar in Pearl River, where my friend Ellen pushed me into a dance off with some spanish girls. According to my drunk friends, "my white-ass schooled those bitches." I don't think so. These girls were pulling my hair and grinding really close to me. I think they were hitting on me, so they let me "win." I then proceeded to dance with this guy, who happened to be the brother of one of our friends who turned 21 that night. So, let's just say I had a few drinks (and a car bomb) and we started to dance a little closer. After a few innocent little pecks on the lips, I walked away like the tease I normally am. I try so hard to play coy.

I went up to my friend Seana, "Yo, that kid Bryan and I kissed."

And my friend Seana says, "Um, he has a girlfriend."

My response: "Dammit! What the hell!" And I cried for roughly a minute.

So we ended up in the bar next door, with two people passed out in someone's car. We sat in a little booth chatting away finishing our drinks, and myself trying very, very hard to ignore the guy with the girlfriend. Unfortunately, my friends decided to go check on the passed out victims and left me alone with the guy with the girlfriend. I sat at the booth staring into my vodka cranberry and occaisionally looking out the window which faced a brick wall. So Bryan (guy with girlfriend), slides over into my booth and at first just sits their and smiles with his drunk, glazed eyes. Apparently, that did it for me and I became "that girl."

Overall, a long Ssaturday, filled with illegal pocketbooks, cheating, dancing, and well me getting into big trouble the next day. But, that's what happens when you don't come home. First and last time as I told my father.


P.S. I only became the "Kissing other girl." When we got back to my friend's house I instantly fell asleep after hiding under a blanket.

Monday, April 24, 2006

My Uneventful Weekend.

So what a gloomy weekend we had Saturday to Sunday. I might even include Friday. So, Friday I went out for my friends birthday. And he kept apologizing for making me drive, but I told him I would drive. The only problem that I had with driving that night, was when my other two friends that came with us didn't drink. I mean c'mon, we went out to celebrate our friends birthday and we were just sitting their watching him drink and listening to my boring stories. I mean I had a few to drink, but I just felt bad cause we were just sitting around. Soo anyways that was Friday. I was in a bad mood anyways that day because my boss was pissing me off. She was yelling at me for not vaccuming the meeting room after the chess club, and I politely asked, "Don't we have a cleaning service?"

Let's see Saturday, I did nothing. Even though my mom doesn't stop asking me when I'm going to be applying to St. John's for Grad School. I just got my tuition bill today for LIU, which my dad is pretty pissed about. I just want to get Grad school over with and get everyone off my back about when I'm going to start school. Ugg. So anyways, Saturday I felt like crap and didn't do anything. I had a cold, but I went to Barnes and Noble to get a book on HTML so I can work on my Blog for the Library, but I ended up with two books on Crocheting and Knitting. One book is Stitch and Bitch and the other is The Happy Hooker, both by Debbie Stoller (the editor for Bust magazine, which I also bought as well). I'm debating about whether or not I should introduce some of the Teens to Bust, but I think its more for College Students. Its a great magazine if you are interested. They have great interviews with celebs, intriquing topics, and CRAFTS! Haha. Debbie Stoller rocks. She's on tour with her new book, The Happy Hooker, I'll have to see if she'll be in the neighborhood.

So Sunday. I was supposed to go to New York City to find the best route to get to the NYU campus where I'll be taking classes in May, but it rained. Instead, we went to the Palisades Mall. It was so damn hot that I think I shrunk. My breasts definately didn't shrink, because I'm only one size away from never being able to buy a bra in that store again. It was so dissappointing this year to hear that I was a D-cup, but to be practically booted out of the store! Pretty soon I'll need a walker to hold up my breasts, cause thats the only way Ill be able to support them! So anyways I spent four hours at the mall with my mother and sister. I bought a bra (haha its ugly), a bath robe, and some supplies for my crochet projects. I was so cranky. I was yelling at old people because they kept stopping in front of me. I was yelling at Michelle. Yelling at my mother. I was on a rampage. I hate shopping with other people. I have to, because I always buy things that don't look good on me. But, I just hate shopping with people.

Anyways, the Library was good today. My boss wasn't in and it was very quiet. The best part of my day was when my dad came to visit tonight. This little boy was standing next to him, and I guess the little boy thought that my dad was his older brother. So for some reason the little boy just turned around and smacked my dad right in the leg missing the "secret no-no spot" as my brother calls it. Haha.