Sunday, January 31, 2010

Dating 101

We've all been on dates.....good dates, bad dates, and then those dates that make you ponder why you didn't just stay home with a pizza and a movie rental instead. Maybe some of my dates had an off night. Maybe they didn't know any better.....or maybe, just maybe, they needed someone to give them blunt, uncomfortably honest, dating tips. I'm not saying girls are completely blameless. There are hundreds of movies and TV shows that reflect otherwise. I, however, do not go on dates with I can only speak to dating guys, and therefore can only provide said tips to the male persuasion. Sorry girls.

Gentlemen, do NOT repeat the following behaviors. Please note, these are in no particular order of importance:

1) While we are out to dinner with my friends, do not make anti-child comments such as "wow you have 2 kids? That's an investment you won't ever get a return on....well for at least 18 years I'm guessing". You already know my friends have kids and you saying this makes them feel awkward, makes you look like an idiot, and makes me wonder why I invited you in the first place.

2) Try to resist the urge to chew with your mouth open or burp at the table. It's disgusting and it makes me wonder if you lied about being raised in an upscale neighborhood and were actually, in fact, raised in a barn.

3) Do not invite me out to dinner and then at the very end when you ask for the bill, look at me and ask if we are splitting it, citing that I make more than you so it's only fair. Really?!?! Sooooo just so we're clear....YOU invite ME out. YOU pick the swanky restaurant, and now YOU can't afford to pay? Would you have still asked me to split the bill had we gone to Chili's? Because trust me.....I would still have dodged your calls. If you invite a girl to dinner, you pay....the whole bill. I thought everyone knew this one??

4) When we are at a bar, dancing with other friends, do not pull me away from my friends with the claim "you've been dancing with them long enough". This will not bode well for you, as I will laugh at your heinous dancing attempts, then go back to dancing with my friends shortly thereafter.

5) Do not pressure me to drink on our date. I will request we sit at the bar, make friends with the bartender, and I'll be secretly drinking diet soda while you're drinking a double on the rocks with each round. You'll get hammered, hopefully get sick, and I'll leave with another guy who can clearly hold his liquor better than you. Peer will NOT be your best friend, I assure you.

6) Do not brag about getting valet parking the entire night, please. We met at Tysons Corner mall, where there are several parking garages, and clearly there is ample parking. You're not classy, you're just stupid. Thanks for playing.

7) Do not make me wait for you to primp for our date. You're a guy. You should be spending way less time on your hair than I do. If this is not the case, we've got more issues than you getting a second date out of me.

8) Do not call me, text me, email me, gchat me, facebook me, and instant message me within one day. Yes, that is 6 attempts at communication. This not only renders me no longer interested and officially scared off from responding makes me seriously consider getting a restraining order.

9) Do not proposition me for sex on a first date...and when I turn you down and give you a look like you've completely lost your mind, do not then proceed to make fun of me and compare me to a middle in "Oh c'mon it's not like we're in middle school!" Do I REALLY need to elaborate with this one???

10) Do not call me man or dude when you interact with me. I am not your man. I am not your dude. The last time I checked, I had boobs and a vagina. When we are discussing something and you address me as man or dude, it makes me wonder if you are gay, stupid, or a not so fabulous combination of gay and stupid. Just saying.

Friday, January 29, 2010

The Sweaty Medley

Oh yes, ladies and gentlemen. We're discussing sweat today....because last night that was all I could think about....well, for the most part. I am here to tell you....I was sweating in places I never knew existed. My heart felt as though it was about to beat out of my chest at any moment. I moved my body and contorted in ways I have never experienced before. Then, once I thought I was the master of my domain....I hear "change position". You might presume this to be the most demanding sexual partner one has ever had, but no. Sexual healing this was not. This was my first ever Bikram yoga class.

Yes, that's right. A packed room full of sweaty bodies, wearing next to nothing, in 105 degree temps.....doing yoga poses for an hour and a half. Did I mention people were wearing next to nothing? Yes, even the men. I went with a friend of mine who does this activity at least once a month. I wish my yoga goddess friend had forewarned me of this, among other things....but we'll get to that in just a few. So we went in and set our mats down in preparation for class to start. Class began with breathing exercises.....not too traumatizing right? Well, it wouldn't be if I didn't have Meatloaf performing yoga right beside me. Yes, Meatloaf....the long haired one-hit wonder.....I would do anything for looooooove, but I won't do that!......but I digress. So we were doing these breathing exercises....and Meatloaf is grunting. Yes, grunting, during his breathing. Charming.

So the breathing portion was over with and we were then getting into the actual yoga poses. We were twisting our bodies in such ways that should probably be illegal in some countries (actually, wait..they probably are now that I think about it). The room was getting hotter and hotter and we were all becoming drenched in our own sweat, which is probably an exceptionally attractive image. Yes, I'm aware. One of my favorite parts about this sweating was that my shirt, my Nike dry fit shirt that I usually run in, was becoming soaked in my sweat.....but everywhere except my boobs. Yes, that's correct.....drenched everywhere, but two white dry circles on my shirt. Thank you for THAT little gem, Nike!

Now because we were all sweating so profusely at this point in the class, those who have long hair and had made the unfortunate move not to pull it back.....AHEM MEATLOAF!!!....yes these folks were now flinging sweat from their hair when they move.....onto those alongside them. My friend and I were both victims of this, sadly. As if this was not offensive enough, evidently a few folks thought it appropriate to pass gas....out loud....and please let me remind you at this time that we were in a packed room that was at least 105 degrees. At this point my friend and I shot each other looks in disbelief. Did that seriously just happen? Yes...yes it did. I'm still trying to understand why they didn't just leave the room, or at the very least, excuse themselves. You think you've had uncomfortable situations? Well.....welcome to ours.

Don't get me wrong. I'm glad I tried this Bikram yoga thing at least once. I've never done yoga before and my yoga goddess friend usually enjoys it, so I figured why not try something new. It did serve a's really good cardio, and I suppose it would be a good stress reliever had the aforementioned trauma not taken place. As for doing it again right away, I think I'll stick to my running routine and massage therapy....thanks. Just saying.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

They bowl. I judge. It works.

I don't know how to break this to you, but I don't bowl. I don't like to bowl, and I enjoy being in bowling alleys even imagine my surprise when I am invited to go bowling and drink with a small group of friends....and I accept this invitation. I figure, what do a few hours out hurt....and the promise of hot man candy to gawk at doesn't hurt either. So I go, with absolutely no intention of bowling. Evidently, the person in charge of planning this whole night neglected to check about leagues and such, so we must now wait in the bar area. Fine with soda with 2 lemons please. Apparently my drink order makes me stick out like a sore thumb, as everyone else is consuming mass quantities of beer. Well, I don't like beer. I'm a liquor and wine girl, and I absolutely refuse to order a glass of wine in a bowling alley. So liquor it is.

The wait is over and it's now time to head to the lanes. Thank you Jesus. There is a group who is definitely there to bowl, and then there is a smaller group of us who are there to....well, sample the spirits of the fine establishment. We are chatting amongst ourselves when I see someone in a red shirt walk by a few times and look at me......Oh my God I know that guy. We both realize that we know each other (well I'm guessing he realized this before I did) so I just blurt out "ok where do I know you from? Or is it more where do I hate you from? Help me out here?" He tells me we used to work together years ago.....then it hits me. Chili's when I was in grad school years ago. So then my mind starts wandering....or judging, as it were. He goes from being a server at Chili' working at a bowling alley. Does anyone else find this rather odd? I'm not suggesting that a serving position at Chili's is the least bit prestigious, but I'm sure you can sense where I'm going with this. I go up to the concession stand to order some food (shocker, I know) and here comes Mr. Chili's. He initiates conversation and I waste no time in asking him what happened to his former job. He explains that he wanted to be in management. Hmmmmmmm. Server at Chili's vs. Manager at a bowling alley. Is this a lateral move or.......? I'm at a loss. Either way, he decides he's going to comp our food I just ordered, which was really nice of him so I thank him, naturally. While he's telling the employee behind the bar to comp our food, I can't help but notice the guy's name tag. The employee is Hispanic, and his name is German. Yup, German. I'll leave the over analysis to you on that one.

Our food arrives, and however questionable it appears....I, of course, eat it anyway. I am paying for this life decision today, but nevermind that. While we are devouring our pseudo chili nachos and french fries, I immediately notice the arrival of some new lane neighbors. They bear a slight resemblance to some cast members from a new MTV reality show. The Jersey Shore....maybe you've heard of it. They walk over to the neighboring lane, with drinks already in hand. I believe they also possess their own bowling balls. Clearly this is not their first time. The Situation's understudy is wearing jeans and a t-shirt that appears to be a tad too snug for his body type, and then there is the hat cocked sideways....because would you really expect anything less from The Situation? Snooki's stand-in is wearing leggings with Ed Hardy written down the side of the legs. Really....Ed Hardy??? I had my iPhone with me at the time (it always serves me well).......I will attempt to post the photo of this shortly. It is truly amazing.

So what have I learned from last night, you ask? Well, a few things.....

1) Don't trust your friends when they promise you hot man candy only to lure you out with them. It's a trap and the hot man candy that is promised could end up being a guy that is already engaged with a 2 month old infant. Seriously. Don't fall for it.
2) Don't ever frequent bowling alleys. Ever. And if you must partake in bowling activity, stick to Wii bowling in the comfort of your own home. It's way less....traumatic?
3) Always be nice to your co-workers, as you never know where your paths might cross again. You could be hungry and they could manage a bowling alley and give you free food for your kindness. This is huge.
4) Always always always bring your iPhone with you, wherever you go. And please remember to charge it beforehand. You never know what kind of treasures you will want to document for later use. Just saying.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.....not so much?

I always look forward to the infamous chore of grocery shopping. It's not that I'm a soccer mom and this is one of the few treasures that rescue me from chaos. It's not because I love engaging in grocery cart races with.....well, that cute stranger on aisle 9. And it's definitely not because honeycrisp apples are finally on sale at $1.29/lb (because really....there are far more intriguing things that tickle my fancy than produce, I assure you). It's the tail end of the whole grocery shopping experience that usually results in a smile upon my face.....that pivotal moment when the cashier has rung everything up, collected my payment, and printed out my receipt...this is the moment when he or she makes a valiant effort at pronouncing my full name. Please note it's not my first name that tends to painfully confuse others, but my last name that typically elicits such a frustrated look upon the clerk's face that he or she might rather go help with the self-checkout line (seriously, I do NOT envy these folks) than risk verbally mutilating the 4 syllables at the bottom of the paper that personally identify yours truly. I think my favorite part of this especially awkward exchange is when the individual attempts this difficult task but then just gives up and hands me my bags, essentially admitting defeat. A special thank you to the parental units for this gem. I sincerely appreciate it. Really.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Child Abuse: It's everyone's problem....

I was talking with a friend this morning and we were simply discussing our mornings, when she turned my attention towards something ripped straight out of news headlines. Evidently, she and her husband are friends with a woman whose child recently passed away. They initially reported the death as SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome). The child was 9 months old. As if this isn't sad enough, the woman now has to relive her pain thanks to her husband, who is now being arrested for child abuse and murder. He is being accused of shaking their infant, which resulted in his death.

This story makes me think of all the times I've seen, heard or read about child abuse, and it further validates my theory that individuals should have to take a test before they are allowed to be parents. We must take tests for most other things, but why not for bringing a life into this world and taking proper care of it? We have to take a written and driving test in order to obtain a license, and we do the same with operating heavy machinery. We must pass exams and demonstrate adequate knowledge in order to be considered suitable for applying said knowledge in a place of work. Most jobs require experience, or an abundance of education, yet the most important job requires nothing more than a viable egg and a sexual release? You've got to be kidding me.

Now, I embrace the fact that not everyone may agree with me on this, and this might be deemed somewhat of a dicey topic.....but this is my blog and I'm able to write about pretty much whatever I if you don't like it...stop reading. Imagine, just for a few minutes, if there was some law implemented where we would have to take a test before becoming parents. With this, I envision a ripple effect of positive outcomes. A significant amount of individuals would most likely fail this test, thus resulting in less births per year. Less births per year plus more competent parents would probably yield a negative correlation involving that pesky foster care issue we have in America (negative correlation: as the number of competent parents increase, the number of children in foster care decrease). If the budget for foster care and money allotted for other services related to child abuse could be tweaked, then this would mean more money cancer and/or other types of important research, for example....or GASP!....perhaps even education pertaining to parenthood and childhood development BEFORE individuals have kids. I also wonder if this would provide some relief within the already overcrowded courts pertaining to family law, or even lend itself to more effective laws that actually hold parents accountable moving forward........before it's too late for another child? Just saying.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Get a clue, Laptop Mafia. Or maybe google it.

It's around 10:30pm and my friend's band is playing. Everyone's having a great time...singing, dancing, know the drill. Well, you might know the drill, but the gentlemen that arrived shortly thereafter clearly did not. They show up in full on business attire: the tailored suit, the wing tip shoes, the briefcases, and the item of the hour....laptop bags, with what I can only assume actually contain laptops in them. They show up and take over the dance floor...and by take over I really just mean stand there, looking like fools, in front of everyone. Please note this is not a late Happy Hour. This is not at 5 or 6pm. This transpires at 10:30pm.

My friends and I immediately notice this walking professional cliche. I, of course, refuse to let this go and motion for the perceived leader of the Laptop Mafia to come over to us. This wasn't difficult, as he and his trusty followers were already looking our way. Darwin's weakest link comes over to the group and starts flirting with us, at which point we interrupt him to ask what prompted his group to bring laptops to the bar. I mean really, tell me you wouldn't be wondering the same thing! Were they going to log on and do some occupationally critical computing while my friends are belting out Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" in the background?? Actually, I'm pretty sure he mutters something about them just getting off work, but nevermind that. We are already more acutely focused on one of the other members of their group. This special individual is snarling at us, yelling something, and throwing his hands up for some reason. I suppose maybe he's a tad offended by our antics. Oops? We direct the Laptop Mafia leader to his crazy friend who is making violent gestures and the leader turns around and asks us if we would like some drinks. Now, I'm all for a cute, successful guy buying me a drink.....but these individuals are not exceptionally attractive, and I'm convinced they are the type of guys that wear professional clothing (complete with accessories) to a bar in order to make themselves appear more successful than they are....because really they live in mom's basement and fling hamburger patties for a living. So, in almost unison, we respond with a resounding "No". I think I can safely say no one in my group regretted the decision of turning down said beverage offer. I did, however, suggest that he run back to his group because it looked like his crazy friend needed a drink. I think everyone behaves slightly more favorably in public when they are at least somewhat medicated, no?

This scenario, of course, reminds me of other instances where I thought I was witnessing a deleted scene from Boiler Room inappropriately set in a bar or restaurant scene. There is no logical reason why someone would need to conduct official business within the confines of a bar, Chili's, Panera, Cosi, or God forbid, a McDonald's. Seriously, do they not have an office? If you are wearing a Brooks Brothers suit, sporting Kenneth Cole shoes, maybe a Rolex watch to accessorize, with a Blue tooth strapped to your ear...I feel as though you might be able to afford to store your professional belongings, such as your laptop and briefcase, in a more appropriate place. And if you are already going to be carrying around a laptop bag or man purse alike, has it completely escaped your attention that you might be able to fit a change of clothes in one of those bags? Just saying.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Terry cloth bathrobe, nice pair of earrings, and 1 urban dictionary. Check.

I'm going to tell you a story starring my mother. It might make you laugh, it might make you feel slightly uncomfortable, it might even make you cringe....but it's a true story I will never, ever forget. What's worse is she won't let me forget it.

This little gem of a scenario dates back to the holidays. I'm outside, walking my dogs (ok, they are little white furry squirrels...but technically they're dogs) when my mother calls me. I answer and we start discussing mundane things like what she's making for Thanksgiving dinner, what I should bring to the house for Thanksgiving dinner, what time I'm arriving, if I'm bringing the dogs, and oh yes my personal favorite....what's teabagging?!?!?!?!

Me: (awkward silence) "What?" (I figure if I respond with a question she'll just forget. No dice)

Mom: "Do you know what teabagging is? Is it something gay men do?"

Me: (crickets chirping) "Ummmm where did you hear that phrase?"

Mom: "Oh, from the radio. So can you tell me what it is? Is it something bad?"

Me: "I'd really rather not. Can't you just google it or something?"

Mom: "Ok fine. Well, what is boning? Do you know that one?"

Me: "Oh for Christ sake, where did you hear THAT?"

Mom: "Oh I heard that one from Keeping Up with the Kardashians! Love that show!"

Me: "Uh huh, I'm sure you do...please stop watching it. And start listening to more CDs please."

This conversation definitely goes down in history as one of the most awkward conversations I've ever had with my mother. Silver lining? Oh this definitely made it's way around my family, including BBQs, in different states in a matter of days. Nothing new for them though, I suppose. Several years ago, at a family wedding, my grandmother (we called her Granny Gotrocks...I think the name speaks for itself) came back from the hair salon complaining about how much she had spent on a "f***ing blowjob". Clearly a discrepancy between what she said and what she meant.....but I digress.

So, anywho, back to my mother. Her birthday is coming up, and she has given some suggestions as to what she would like. Among these items are a terry cloth bathrobe and a nice pair of earrings. I will most likely make her happy and get these things, but I'm SERIOUSLY considering purchasing her an urban dictionary as well, should she need to utilize it from time to time. She still asks me for assistance on an assortment of exceptionally awkward vocabulary, and I'd just assume not have these conversations with my mother and have her seek this wealth of knowledge elsewhere. Just saying.

Why hello Mr. Blogpost, how do you do?

Have you ever had a friend who speaks with minimal filtering? Comments on random observations, albeit not sugar coating even the slightest offensive part? Umm that's sort of me....

This blog is a pseudo response to several folks who have read my Facebook status messages and either can't believe I just posted that or find my updates entertaining enough that some have even suggested I publish my "priceless one liners". Clearly if someone says something on Facebook, it MUST be I'm going with that. Quite frankly, I'm too lazy at this point in time to sit down and write a blog it is. At least in this forum, I won't have strict character limits as I rant and rave about what I have just observed. Oh Facebook....why do you limit me so?

So here it first blog post ever. Quick and painless.....ahhhh like some of my past relationships.

Of course, if anything I write ever offends................oops? :)