Let's finish this bitch!

I don't think anyone is celebrating the end of 2008 more than I am. This year, I lost my job, dog (RIP Lord G), love life and most of my optimism. I'm ready for a change.

So tonight, Carly (you remember her) is forcing me to go to Brooklyn (which is huge because I NEVER go to the BK because I mostly hate it there)to some burlesque party (aka the night of titty tassles). I won't be performing but I will be getting obscenely drunk to celebrate the demise of the worst year ever.

I'm sure I'll do something rediculously stupid or awkward if it's a good night.

I wish you all a safe and drunk New Year. Have one for Jonesy!

Best thing about being unemployed

Best thing about being unemployed is being able to take off as long as I want for the holidays. Have fun at work tomorrow suckers.

Which is worse?

I was recently contacted vis facebook by a guy I hooked up with 7 years ago. In Switzerland. While studying abroad. Who I only knew for 4 days. He's kids of being stalkery and sending me messages, but he only has the nicest of things to say. But really, offering me a plane ticket to visit you in Canada right after getting back in touch is a bit frightening.

On the otehr hand, when there is a guy I actually have interest in, I get ignored. Like blatantly. Oh sure, there is the awkward moment or signal here or there, but nothing ever happens and I'm always left wanting more.

So which is worse? Being stalked because somebody thinks you are amazing when you probably don't feel the same way? Or having feelings for someone who either has no idea you exist or could care less how you feel?

I'm not sure.

Little Girl Dancing to Beyonce's Single Ladies

This child dances better than I do. Get on with your bad self!

Best. Cartoon. Ever.

When I was little I used to get so excited when this came on Disney. I love the Cookie Carnival.

First, itr's food that sings and dances.

Two, the rum cakes are drunk.

Three, the Jello lady shakes her boobs.

Amazing.

This reminds me of being a kid....

I used to love this cartoon. They just don't make them like they used to. And hwo cute are these singing hats! Enjoy!

Intolerable Cruelty

Why do they air commericals fore beverage mecca Sonic and $5 buffet CiCi's in Manhattan.

1. Neither of these exist here. Nor does Friendly's. Or Chuck E. Cheese. Manhatty is barren of the deliciousities.

2. 90% of the people in Manhattan down own cars so they can't drive the 70-90 miles to get to one of these establishments.

3. Besides myself, most people don't desire such things as a Kiwi Limeade drink with round ice cubes or a $5 pizza pasta salad bar. So really, nobody watching really cares.

Point moot. So please stop torturing me with these tittalating commercials showing cheese and burgers and milkshakes with candy bar bits. It's mean. My inner fat girl beseeches you to stop this. And my outer appearences thanks these places for not coming to Big Apple because she has recently shed 15 pounds (Yay Unemployment!) and would like to stay on the smaller side. K Thnks.

'Tis the season...

The Chirstmas season is here so that means I have my partypants on and I'm ready to rumble. With some sort of event every other day this week my liver may have to start phoning it in while I drink water.

This past Saturday was Merry Thanksgivingmas. As prrof of my age and level of responsibility, I sent myself home right around the time I started browning out (meaning I vaguely remember some of the stuff, not a full visit to the BOC). But I was kissing random boys on the cheek, which I'm sure, scared them senseless. Yet again, the boozing scares boys.

In other news, I HAVE A NEW PHONE. For the past year I've been plagues with problems because I had a crappy Motorola RAZR. I've now upgraded to the BlackBerry Storm, since iPhones are so 2007.

So Seasons Greetings kiddos. Have a pint for your dear Jonesy when you are out and fellas, if you;re lucky, that girl smooching you on the cheek just might be me!

A Friendly PSA: DO NOT SEE THIS MOVIE

In the early 1990s, my sister and I used to snuggle and watch USA's night time program "Up All Night." They had a big boobied host who would show crappy B-movies. One night, at around 11 pm, we tuned in to see they were airing "My Bloody Valentine" a 1981 horror film about mass murders in a mining town.

We did not live anywhere near miners, coal and/or killers, but I assure you, that movie scared the Jebus out of us. To this day, we cannot year the song "My Funny Valentine" without getting scared. The sight of a pick axe gives me goose bumps. For years, we have made jokes of this movie and how scary it is just to cover up the fact that sometimes at night we still remember how effing scared we were.

FOR SHAME LIONSGATE! How could you do this to us! Make a re-make of the movie that has forever made me a scaredy cat. And who do you cast? JACK FROM DAWSON'S CREEK! WTF? Are you trying to hurt my feelings?

And how do you shoot the movie? IN 3 EFFING D!!!! No, it wasn;t scary enough the first time. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, you had to go and make it way scarier. Lionsgate, you are just mean and cruel and I hate you.

So please, I urge you all. Do not attempt this cinematic adventure. You will only regret it FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!

"The Century Plant"

Best part about the Twilight movie? Fritzy from the movie Camp is in it. Oh, wait. Have you not heard of Fritzy or Camp? Oh, then you obviously aren't a gay man or an unemployed blogger with too much time on her hands.

Fritzy sabotages a girl at her show tunes camp so she can sing a song from Company:


Here is a taste:



Here's more...



And then the real tour de force. I present the strangest song ever:





You're Welcome.

If you needed any other incentive to vote....

http://perezhilton.com/2008-11-03-the-best-voting-gift-of-all

My liver is starting to train tomorrow.

Just realized the 2009 NYC marathon will be the day after Halloween. It's the perfect storm of partying. Yay! Crap.

This is why breast feeding scares me.

<

I wish I had an element bring me a cupcake.

Instead I'll settle for the cartoon.

http://www.strindbergandhelium.com/

Oh hai.

DM told me she missed my blog. One would think that in my state of unemployment I would have tons to write about but no, not in my case. I'm bored and all I do is watch TV and stalk the internets for jobs.

In an attempt at a post, here are a few things I've learned since getting the ax.

1. No matter how old you are, it is not okay to fart loudly in public. (Hear that old man who butt trumpeted in Central Park?)
2. Barack Obama was an angsty teen who drank and did drugs and played basketball. Sounds like many people I know so it makes him a little bit cooler in my book.
3. Degrassi is addictive and ridiculous and I love it, even if it is Canadian.
4. Spending a month watching every episode of That 70s show just to finally see the finale (which you will then remember you have seen before) can be fun, but not many people will share your enthusiasm.
5. Without booze, birthdays in your 20s suck.
6. The one place where all people are equal is the New York State Unemployment Office.
7. The price of good cheese is high, and worth every penny.


So keep your fingers crossed kiddies. Maybe if I get a job my life will become interesting enough to actually write about again.

I bet you feel like Sean & Jayden...

all neglected and shizz. Sorry people. The whole losing a job thing blows serious cheese. I've been freelancing for a bit but that ends tomorrow and I will be back in business with WAY too much time on my hands. So get PSYCHED for more of my random dribbles of awesometudity.

Anywho, Q has a job. And a blog. That she actually updates. So start checking out gingervision.blogspot.com. She's a hoot and she has pretty big hooters. You will enjoy.

Also, I'm most likely going to be starting another blog, an even more awesome one that actually makes sense and isn't about my personal life so get psyched for that too. You'll know more when I get off my ass and work on it.

In the meantime, start slow clapping, like one clap every 4 hours. By the time you get to a full applause I will post something worthwhile.

IT'S A GIRL!

Spanish & Homer have brought a beautiful baby girl into the world! Yay! I haven't met her yet, but I've seena photo and she's just lovely!

ANTM: More than one transgendered contestant?

Or does Marjorie from the new cycle of ANTM kind of look like Bastian from The Neverending Story?

Exhibit A

http://www.alicia-logic.com/capspages/caps_viewall.asp?titleid=67


Exhibit B

http://www.tvguide.com/tvshows/americas-model/photos/100032/2


I wish I had a screencap to further my case.

Laborious Labor

Spanish is in labor right now. She is trying to birth the child that she and Homer created, that I have fondly called baby Beer for the past 8 months.

Wish her luck. She's been feeling this since early in the AM, the poor thing.

In honor of this great event, I am debating what this child will now be referred to on the blog. Hanish? Spomer? Or something else entirely? Don't judge. I need to distract myself while I await the news of this new addition!

Dear Prison Break,

I love you again.

Love,

Me

I'm a Libra but my scales are always tipping.

I was hopeful when I turned 26. Thought this year would finally bring everything I've been working/praying for.

Started out on a shitty note with an experience that was just a little shy of heartbreak. Then, the corporate stars aligned and I got promoted. Yay!

I started working with a co-worker who seemed to have some sort of vendetta against me from another life. Then, hooray, my nephew was born! Another reason to celebrate!

Then, I got really drunk at a friend's bachelorette and fell down, skinning my knee and elbow. Boo. At the end of June, I took a vacation just to clear my head and get things done around the house. Yay for time off...oh wait, shouldn't this be awesome?

Day three of vacation, find out my job no longer exists. Three days later, find out my dog is dying and is going to be put to sleep. A week later, find out that promised freelance work is a glorified internship and I'm stuck with 21-year-olds for two months.

I think it's time for my scales to tip up, not to put me on a high, just to make me balanced, the way I like, and apparently need, to be.

So can someone out there make something slightly good happen to me? Like a job or a new crush (although that heartbreak earlier in my 26th year has come back to haunt me--I'm a glutton for punishment) or anything like that? Pleeeeeeeeaaaseeeeeeeeee?

The Bard is rolling over in his grave.

I attempted to watch the 2000 version of Hamlet, the one with a less-hungry/cracky looking Ethan Hawke. About 2 minutes in I was disturbed/vomity/pissed when they showes a flash of none other than J.S. as Ophelia.

She continues to ruin my life, one play/movie at a time.

Congrats!

Q got a new job! After bringing her into the company at my last job, I felt bad when we were all laid off four months later. Read about it here.

Now chickadees, what am I going to do with myself? I've got a freelance gig for now which is helping to keep me off unemployment. Hopefully OMG EW THERE WAS JUST A BIG BUG ON MY BED GROSS my dream job is right around the corner and the will recognize my talent and hire me immediately. The reality: I'll be stuck doing freelance for a long time since not too many people are hiring and competition is stiff and I really don't think I'm that good at this life anyway so maybe I should consider something else.

And that's my Debbie Downer post of the day. Wa Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I'm not trying to be sensitive...

but you would think they would at least wait until all the recently laid off employees finished up their assignments and left the building before putting new name tags up...

Thus ends my magazine career...for now. In other news, I've become a recent alcoholic due to the whole I'm freelancing so I can go to work looking like a hot mess idea...oops.

Great Moments in IM Coversations:

Q is meeting someone who has a job in journalism (unlike us since we both got canned like Spam) for a beer (yes, I edited the convo):


me: get him to get you a job
show him your boobs

Q: hahaha

Q: im serious
tell him he tweak a nip when you get a job

Q: HAHAHAHAHA
you're bad

Q: ugh what should i wear

me: tassles

Q: party pasties

me: not party
but like maybe you have preppy pasties?
posh pasties?

Q: lily pulitzer ones

me: WORD

Q: pulitzer pasties

me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

EFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

My magazine folded today. I am officially unemployed. PLEASE HELP! The thought of moving in with my mom, sister, bro-in-law and baby niece is a little too Full House for me. HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

My computer

is pretty much broken and I can't blog at work...so no new posts until that gets fixed sorry.

And I have a good one about me going back to gym and everything.

Booze bags are not sexy

Just remembered that I was drinking straight from a huge bottle of Magner's Cider on Saturday night. I think that totally negates my awesome blowout and adorable outfit. I think I scared boys.

Sigh.

I know I've been kind of absent lately, but I'd rather spend my time living life and creating rediculous things to post rather than half-assing it. I promise, I'll be back soon.

For all my Westchester Peeps

Demon Magic

I almost peed myself.

"Pack your bags we leave tonight!"

There are four things I will always remember about 2003.

1. I graduated college.
2. I went toVegas for the 1st time.
3. The blackout in NYC.
4. Paradise Hotel on Fox.

For those of you who don't know about the hotel, this should give you a good idea. The theme song was even like crack. "Two tickets to paradisseeeeeeeeeee, pack your bags we leave toniiight!" (yes I know that's a real song). Anywho, it was on lke 2-3 times a week, kind of like Big Brother so the season flew by.

So anyway, at the end of the season, the announcer comes on and says something like: "STay tuned for the next season of Paradise Hotel...you never know what will happen..."

And I waited. I figured like Temptation Island (awesome!) and Joe Millionaire (slurp sounds!), Fox would jump on the chance to make another edition of this quasi-hit.

And I waited. And waited some more. I reminisced about scary man-lady Toni, Zack and Amy's relationship and how hot Beau was. I bitched about the end result. And then I gave up.

I nearly peed myself when I found out that this reality gem would finally bring us a sequel...4.5 years later and on the bootleg channel, my9.

So far, things have been pretty standard, sex, booze, annoying peopleand reality all-stars (RYAN!). Then I watched last night's epi. They hinted they were bringing in a former contestant, I figured it was one of the folks they booted this season. Then the big reveal...IT WAS ZACK! FROM SEASON ONE! THE GUY WHO GOT AN EARLY BOOT BECAUSE HE WAS A JACKASS AND THEN GOT BOOTED AGAIN FOR MAKING THREATS OF VIOLENCE!

And he looked well, um, er, haggard? I remind you that this is years in the making. The new kids are all young, jacked and tan. Zack has crows feet at the age of 28 he is obvi the oldest one there. And while he seems to have bonded with Mikey over the fact that he lost Tonya the same way he was once kicked off, he seems to be siding with the Newbies, including super-tits Stefanie. Gross.

Zack, don't let me down!!!! I want an OG to win this time! Also, next week it looks like the shizz is going down! And dear my9, please put this show on more than once a week. We have at least two-three months left, please don't drag it out and make me listen to Amanda's fake accent anymore or Myrna's PAINFUL voice.

Ugh, this show is great. Watch it. It's TV at it's absoute worst, yes worse than the Hill. But it's fantastic.

Idol Giveth and Idol Taketh Away

First Perry and his cunty girlfriend now Michael Johns. From now on I'm rooting for shitty people on reality shows since they seem to be the ones who win. I want effing recounts considereing I couldn't even get through to vote for Michael. Idol Gives Back? ERRONEOUS!

I'm an auntie again! My

I'm an auntie again! My sister have birth this morning to a baby boy!

That really hurt and it's still hurting.

I want a British baby!

Apparently I'm moving to Canada.

REALLY AMERICA? HOLLY?

ugh. Reality TV hurts my brain.

Perry, you are my Supermodel. Always.

If I could...meet famous people.

Another installation of an If I could. Since I'm lazy, here is a list a famouses I would like to meet.

Famouses I want to meet since I think we could be BFF

1. Kelly Clarkson
2. Sophia Bush
3. Jenna Fischer
4. Tina Fey
5. Katherine Heigl
6. Neil Patrick Harris

Famouses I want to meet out of sheer interest

1. SJP - Does she really look like a foot as Family Guy suggests?
2. James Van Der Beek (I want to measure his forehead and lick his Dawsony face-just to say I did)
3. Renee Zellweger - I want to pry that bitches eyes open.
4. Ellen Pompeo is only to feed her
5. Christina Ricci - I want to know if she really did it with Justin in Black Snake Moan (SHIT LOOKED REAL!)
6. Elizabeth Taylor - I want to hear her howl in real life!
7. Elliot Yamin - to decide, once and for all, if we ever did have a drunk makeout sesh.

FILF (in no particular order)

1. Christian Bale
2. Perry from Make Me a Supermodel (I count him as famous since I think he's gonna make it big!)
3. Lenny Kravitz
4. Michael Johns (same reason as Perry)
5. Shia La Beouf
6. Channing Tatum
7. John Krasinski
8. Clooney
9. Pitt
10. Damon
11. Robbie Williams
12. Vince Vaughn (with 2 condoms)
13. Joel McHale
14. James Marsden

Famouses I'd like to meet if I was assured that I could get away with justifiable homicide

1. Julia Stiles

If he doesn't win I'm moving to Canada.

I'm not talking about a political candidate. I'm talking about hotty hot hotterson, Perry, on Bravo's Make Me a Supermodel.

How psyched am I to see el senor en FUEGO reunite with his slutastic (ex?) girlfriend (who probably still smell of Adnan juice)? It's like reality TV Christmas (think the finale of Joe Millionaire Season 1 mixed with the bizarre pleasure of watching Toni on Paradise Hotel Season 1 and a splash of a Flavor of Love naming ceremony).


If either member of Bronnie wins I will pack my knives and go. Srsly.

Denise Fleming is a Tampon (and other things that have made women crazy).

Okay, I've just about had it with men calling women crazy. I will be the first to admit. Yes. We bitches be crazy. But the reason why? Dudes. Men. Guys. Boys. Anything with a peen.

Would Carrie have flipped off the deep end if that guy hadn't faked being her date at the prom? No.

Would Denise Fleming have become a freaky loner if it weren't for Kenny Fisher bad-mouthing her?

Would Whitney have become a crack whre without Bobby? (Kiss My Ass!)

Would Britney have gone bonkers if it weren't for the loss of K-Fed (okay, sort of debatable since she's kind of clinical).

You get the idea.

I am going to use myself as a prime example. I am normal. Seriously, as normal as they come. I'm kind of known for it. Sure, I stress and have insecurities an whatever but I think pretty rationally and have been known for my normalcy. I'm actually pretty fun to be around most of the time (especially when there is booze-yay!).

Then something happens. Add a guy into the mix, nay, and asshole guy into the mix. All of a sudden my clothes start ripping and a giant green monster named Lou Ferigno takes over and I become The Incredible Bitch.

The Incredible Bitch's triggers include but are not limited to:
1. Insult
2. Neglect
3. Lack of orgasms
4. Blatant disregard for feelings/apathy
5. Mind fucking


Her talents include:
1. Introducing herself to every skeleton in your closet
2. Anger fucking
3. Facebook stalking

Also a factor: birth control. Mix that with a douchebag being douchey and The Incredible Bitch will CUT YOU!

Luckily, I have been able to supress this inner entity for quite some time (with some minor facebook stalking offenses) since, sadly I have been without any jerk stores in my life (yay!).
The monster is lying dormant right now, and with the spring coming, my search for a new crush in full force, and assholes aplenty in Manhattan, I fear for this fair city.

So boys, let this be a warning. You are the reason we get the crazies from time to time. Stop. Being. Such. Dicks.

Pot/Kettle

Barbara Walters hosting a special about old people living to be well, older...a little self serving don't you think?

WHAT THE EFF?

Is going on with The Bachelor? Why is this still on? Wouldn't you think the like .2% success rate would turn people off?

And what is with the girl with "the meeps." In my world, that's called Tourette's.

BURN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What is it about Moms and their obsession with their daughter's weight? I obviously instigated this one but please note the twist.

------ Forwarded Message
From: Mom Reply-To:
Date: Mon, 31 Mar 2008 16:58:08 -0400
To: Jonesy
Subject: RE: Vacation

You look great! Just keep eating healthy. Mom

Some of you...

might be wondering where I've gone. I'm still here but have been very busy rying to relax (if that makes any sense).

In the mean time, I will have you know I had a dream in which I bedded an Iranian guido. If anyone can clue me into the deeper meaning of this you win a secret prize.

(FYI: The secret prize is nothing).

Talk to you soon when I have more to say.

Goya Oh Boya!

So all in all, I had about an hour of free time in Chicago. I decided to see some sights. I had heard a lot about one particular thing.

"The face of Chicago has changed overnight. With the grand opening of the 475 million dollar Millennium Park July 16th, and the unveiling of the newest and most striking public sculpture, Cloudgate, all guidebooks were instantly rendered obsolete. That's because artist Anish Kapoor's Cloudgate, already lovingly referred to by Chicagoans as "The Bean," is a sensational, 110-ton, highly polished steel monolith shaped like a kidney bean that draws you to it with its ever-changing reflections of the city skyline, surrounding park and, of course, your own, elusive mirror-image - harder to find than you think." source


I saw the bean and took some artsy photos...

Then, in a moment of pure immaturity, I started cracking up (mind you I was by myself) and took this.

Yes, I flicked the bean.

Spotted: Top Chef's Gail Simmons

Spotted: Top Chef's Gail Simmons on my eight from chicago. Pretty face. Skinny legs. Big ass' seemed very nice to the person she was talking to.

Did she forget her red shirt?

God bless america.

Ho-tel, Mo-tel, Holiday Inn....

Hotel living suits me. As I write this, I just showered with expensive toiletries at hand (Crabtree & Evelyn), my clothes are hung up and ironed in my closet, I'm drnking a cup of fershly brewed tea and getting ready to go to bed at 10:30 pm.

Looks like Chicago has aged me into my forties and it agrees with me, I look fab.

On the other hand, I almost slipped when I got into the shower and I realized that if I fell and died, no one would find me until Tuesday when I'm supposed to check out. Whoever found me would see all of my naked lady parts. Even in death I'm still modest.

So I got out and rested my cell phone on the floor next to the tub just in case.

Being single sometimes blows. But at least I smell like delicious Crabtree & Evelyn products (although I've never seen anyone under the age of 40 shop there...shit!).

More on my Chi-town trip when I return. And no, I did not get to hang with the former crush and put an end to my lust. Figure I wouldn't keep leading you on there. Unlike some people I know.

Sadists

I love how the post wih the most comments ever is the one in which a man masturbates on my leg/butt.

You are all gross.

Yay for Friday in Lent!

Every Friday in Lent means it's pizza day! I order pizza for dinner every week!!

I just ordered (I will not disclose how much pizza) and then I realized, I forgot to order my grape soda. If you have not tried it, pizza and a grape soda is the best combo EVER!!!

Luckily, I have a cherry coke stored in the fridge! Yay for Fridays in Lent!

Is that an 8-ball in your pocket, no, it's your peen.

On the subway with Q on Tuesday. Packed rush hour train. I only had her to hold on to and some man leaning on me. I felt something poking my butt/thigh repeatedly. Then I realized the train wasn't moving.

I still feel filthy.

Babysitter's Club: A PSA

As many of you know, my first job was as the friendly neighborhood babysitter. I love kids, always have, always will. I love that they are little people that have their own sense of logic. Word got out at how awesome I was and my client base would make Kristy from the BSC cry to Maryanne.

Now, part of my awesome extended from the fact that I knew how to have fun with kids but still kept them in check (I am not afraid to distribute a time out). I mean, I was 14 and the kid had to be in bed by 8 pm so I could watch friends.

There was one family I grew really close with and I watched their son from the age of 6 months until he was around 6 or 7 (would have been longer but I went away to school). In those years, I was around for the birth of his sister and I met all of his friends and would watch other kids in his neighborhood.

He was adorable. A perfect little Irish kid who was sweet and precocious at the same time. We got along famously and I watched him grow from Barney to Power Rangers to the early Harry Potter books. We spent a lot of time together (including one whole summer when I was 15) and I have many stories.

Here's where my public announcement comes in. When he was about three, he started to potty train. I was elated because it meant no more poopy diapers for me to change. So you can imagine I was excited when I arrived one day and his mom told me that he was going on the toilet! Yay!

That morning, his mom left and I put on the TV while I set out some coloring books for us. My little man told me he was going to use the big boy potty so I took a break from coloring Cookie Monster to catch up on a soap for a few. Mind you, the bathroom is four feet from where I was. Five minutes later I hear his angelic voice exclaim, "I'M FINISHED!" Since he was new to the whole potty thing, I clapped and shouted a supportive "Good for you! Yay!" and continued to watch my stories. Two more minutes go by.

"I'M FINISHED!"

I gave another supportive yell and some more applause.

A few more minutes go by: "JONESY! I'M FINNNNNNNNNNNIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDD!"

Lightbulb. "Um, do you need help?"

I open the door and homeboy is chilling on the bowl, little legs dangling. "I'm finished," he said like I was supposed to do something. What his mom had neglected to tell me was that while he could drop a deuce on the big boy bowl, he had yet to master the art of the wipe. He had been shouting for me to wipe his ass. Since I had been doing that since he was a baby, I had no problem helping but I couldn't understand how someone would teach their kid to poop and not show them the wiping process. Like really, they go hand in hand! Needless to say, I learned my lesson and from then until he learned how to use TP, I was on hand when he needed his heiny wiped.

Sadly, this was not the last time this would happen to me. I was a camp counselor for years. My first year, I had self-sufficient 12-14 year-olds (including Spanish's sister!). My second year, I had kids going into first grade, most of whom were five or six. We hung around most of the day with the kids in Kindergarten (my sister was the head counselor in that group). By this time, my teenage alcoholism had set in and my sister and I (and 90% of the rest of the counselors) would roll into work everyday hungover. On those days (everyday), we would ask for movie time, which meant air conditioning and quiet for an hour. On this particular day, I was exhausted and movie time was lodged between lunch and swim time. This meant that after the movie, every single kid had to pee. I took my kids to the bathroom. One of the quietest and sweetest kids went in and immediately farted. I knew she was going to poo. We were in the bathroom for fifteen minutes. After asking her about five times if she had needed help, she finally said, yea, I think I'm done. I asked her to open the door so the next girl could go.

As if she were the Queen of Sheba, she swung open the door (still sitting on her throne) and said "I need you to wipe my heiny first."

Now, when you work with little kids at a licensed summer camp there are STRICT rules about touching kids. Especially when you are alone with them. I feel bad, because I laughed at this girl in the face while I sent my CIT (who was nearby with the girls who were waiting) to get some baby wipes from my sister. I took one and realized that there was no reason I should have to do this. I didn't really know her parents well (not like I was the trusted family babysitter or had ever changed her diaper). So I did the only thing I could think of. I held the babywipe up to my shorts and acted out how she should wipe. I taught the girl to wipe her ass through effing mime.

So parents and future parents of America, I implore you. PLEASE TEACH YOUR KIDS TO WIPE BEFORE LEAVING THEM IN THE CARE OF AN UNSUSPECTING TEENAGER. Thank you.

Everyone Was Doing It

The Wild Rose Random Brutal Love Dreamer (RBLD) shmolorful, but unpicked. You are The Wild Rose. Prone to bouts of cynicism, sarcasm, and thorns, you excite a certain kind of man. Hoping to gather you up, he flirts and winks and asks you out, ultimately professing his love. Then you make him bleed. Why? Because you're the rare, independent, self-sufficient kind of woman who does want love, but not from a weakling. You don't seem to take yourself too seriously, and that's refreshing. You aren't uptight; you don't over-plan. Romance-wise, sex isn't a top priority--a true relationship would be preferable. For your age, you haven't had a lot of bonafide love experience, though, and this kind of gets to core of the issue. You're very selective. The problem is them, not you, right? You have lofty standards that few measure up to. You're out there all right, but not to be picked up by just anyone. Your exact female opposite: The Dirty Little Secret Deliberate Gentle Sex Master Always avoid: The Bachelor (DGSM) Consider: The Vapor Trail (RBLM)

Link: The Online Dating Persona Test @ OkCupid - free online dating My profile name: : mags101681

I'm the same as her.

UR SECRETZ. I KNOWS DEM.

I know someone who has something in common with Eliot Spitzer. Ass.

You lika the Perry?

So apparently the folks who surf the interwebs are fans of Perry on Make Me a Supermodel and the drama with his girlfriend. Ever since I posted some stuff about it, traffic has spiked. So here I am, mentioning it again, in hopes that some of you who visit for the info like the blog and continue to read. If you don't, suck it.

So it turns out I was wrong, that she didn't leave him a voicemail and they actually spoke on the phone. BUT when he called her back after hanging up on him, she totally hit "IGNORE" and sent his ass to voicemail. She was probable too busy grooming Adnan's face pubes.

I'm excited to see how the drama unfolds, but Perry, if you ever read this, please get in touch. Your fine ass deserves way better!

An Open Letter: To the girlfriend of Perry on Make Me a Supermodel

It's Jonesy Bitch.

WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU? According the the interwebs, you got caught up with Adnan, yes Britney's nasty BF with the flavor savor soul patch.

Supposedly, on tonight's epi, you will leave Perry a cryptic message and dump him.

WHAT! ADNAN! Do you have brain trauma? Does Adnan have a platinum cock covered in chocolate?

Perry is hot. He is what men should be. Hot, a little gay, and just HOT!

I think you should go hang out with Julia Stiles. Maybe you two want to make a suicide pact?

Fuck you and you're trying to be famous ways.

My past still haunts me. I confess: I was a cheerleader.

Yes, it's true. There was a time when running around in nothing more than midriff-bearing tops and teeny skirts made me happy. I loved poms. I owned Kappa sneakers. I took private gymnastic lessons. I carried a megaphone. I suffered injuries (and think I have the early signs of an arthritic knee and wrist). There were no qualms about wearing warm up suits. I did spirit fingers and made rock and roll signs with my hands. Sponge curlers are a useful hair styling tool and I know how to use them. Never dropped a Spirit Stick and yes, I brought it on.

Okay, so it's out there. I started in the 4th grade and was hooked. It was girly and it was fun and by 5th grade, I was a captain and my sister was my coach (At the time, I didn't think one thing had to do with the other, now it's sort of obvious, although I was pretty damn dedicated). We cheered during the fall for boys basketball and in the winter we competed. Hard core. We didn't mess.

By high school, Spanish and I were all but drafted as freshman onto the varsity squad. Our talent was sort of benched for year since we were the newbies but we went to Nationals, hit the big blue mat, and watched the seniors choke. Whatever, we had three more years. Oh, and we weren't allowed to cheer for the boys school since they had thrown condoms at squads in the past. We cheered for the girls basketball team.

Sophmore year, at one point, I had to tumble five times in our routine. I coined the term "backheadspring" since would sort of flop over on my head and stand up. I'm sure I had concussions and looking back, I am thankful I never broke my neck. Nationals again, we were better this time but not good enough.

Junior year, at this point, most of my friends were on my team. Coincdentally, I hated the rest of our team. Florida again. More choking. I got in trouble for flirting with ugly male cheerleaders. It was retarded and we sort of sucked. But we got new uniforms. I remember this because I had a 22 inch waist a 6-pack at the time. Ha! I became the girl who showed up in her uniform reeking of ciggies.

Senior year, Spanish and I defected to an All-Star team. At this point I was sticking with it for college and secretly wanted to be a coach/instructor. We got uniforms that showed our stomachs. We had a fat girl on our team. That was mean. At one point, I slept through the SAT II's because I was awake from a practice and was stressed about a competition the same day. I drove in a blizzard, visit several doctors for my wrist injury, and finally got on a squad that didn't choke. We rocked every competition. Until nationals, when due to an injury that happened 5 minutes before we hit the mats, Spanish's base couldn't really perform well. Boo. I hung up my shoes that day. Literally, on my wall.

There were camps (retarded because I could never find a place to smoke) and clinics and bake sales and pep rallys. I loved it. Until it stopped being fun. By college I was done and I just wanted to drink and smoke. I went to a meeting to see what our team was about. They didn't compete and they sucked so I bailed. Although, if I knew then what would happen to my teeny taut body then what I know now I would have slapped the smile on and picked up the poms.

Okay, all that boring shit aside, I stumbled on this website yesterday and found this:

REALLY? How old are these kids, 5, maybe 6? And the kid bellys are in full effect ('cept for my girl in the middle, she's ripped!). Full makeup and hair too! Since when is something that requires extreme agility, strength, and flexibility, a training camp for TEENY WHORES?

If you look at pic of me when I was 9, my skirt is clearly down to my knees. Our tops were sweater material. Not all this silver polyester sparkle and baby belly. This just makes me angry. My mom would NEVER let me rock this gear. I hope these poor kids don't lose their viriginty under the bleachers after the big game.

I pray I have only sons.

I'm in love.

Oh. Dear. God.

I just found out I am landing in Chicago during the middle of their St. Patrick's Day parade. My hotel is a few blocks from the route. HELP ME!

We're 3!

Yesterday marked the 3rd anniversary of this here little blog. What started as an experiment (and still sort of is) has turned into a way for me to rant, gossip, and flat out bitch about goings on--from everyday to the celebrity.

Anyway, this is a thanks to those of you who read these, however frequent or infequent, however whiny or funny. I hope I've given you at least a few minutes distaction frm your day job.


Here's to another year, more drunk rediculousness and maybe even some quality peen (for me, not for you).

Cheers! And Godspeed (I love saying this and can never find an approproate moment, so eff it, it's going here.).

Happy Fake St. Pat's!

It's officially drinking season! With more phony St. Patrick's Days (hoboken, Belmar, Jersey City, White Plains and finally NYC), March Madness and the impending spring, people are finally coming out of their winter cocoons for their love of the drink.

Yesterday morning, I woke up at 7:30 AM to haul ass to Hoboken. This is earlier then I wake up for work everyday by over an hour. That right there speaks volumes.

I got into the 'boken at around 9:15, went to DM's apartment for a quick bagel and then we walked to wait on line. The bar opened at 11, we were on a line that went halfway down the street by 10:15. As we were waiting, I jokingly wondered out loud what would happen i the bar finally opened and we were still stuck online.

And that's exactly what happened. Thanks to a fire marshall, the bar went to one and one by 11:05. It took in total, 2 hours and 45 minutes for me to get my first drink. Although, I do give them credit for having the least crowded bar (when you needed a drink you got one within minutes) area and places for us to actually sit down. The wait was a blessing in disguise, because when the drinks started to flow they flowed fast. Cider went down in minutes and Bud Lights in even less time.

And then we made the crucial error that we always make. Leaving the fun to find more fun. The group split and we all ended up at different parties. When we finally all reunited (to meet at another bar which had a line so I went home) to find that none of us had had as much fun as we did earlier that day. But the day was still a success as I got drunk, witnessed an arrest straight out of cops, and ended up mking a poor food choice (and subway choices, for some reason I got off the Path at Christopher Street when I live in Hell's Kitchen??).

And the best part, since we were out so early, I was in bed by 11 pm. I woke up at 9 am fresh as an Irish rose. Gotta love St. Pats--whether they are real or fake!

The drunkest guy in all of Hoboken yesterday

Sorry it's sideways.

South Bea-yotch

I love you Nick Swardson.

Eerie

I just found this old post. It's messed up in more way than one. I'm effing clairvoyant.

Something a little cheery after that last post...

This ALWAYS makes me chuckle:

http://www.xsunderground.com/thechilde/

But this is totally the type of guy I was referring to in the previous post.

The Guythagorean Theorem

In an email conversation with DMBMeg, we wondered why it's always the lame guys that like us the most. Sure someone awesome will want to diddle me every so often, but it's always the lamest, weeniest possible people who want to date me. The kind of guy that wears his heart on his sleeve and tells you what an "amazing person" you are. The kind of guy that cuddles. The kind of guy that wants you to take the lead in the bedroom ALL THE TIME. The kind that isn't really funny, doesn't have much personality...kind of like the Whitney Port of guys. In a sense, a big weenie.

I am totally his type.

I have a theory that when it comes to strong and independent minded women, manly men just stay away. It's like we are a threat to their machismo. Sure they can think we are hot and want to bone us but the second we assert ourselves and say what we want we get put on the shelf.

It's like Type-A doesn't mesh with another Type-A's. You hear about power couples and I think it's bull. It's either people in a relationship of convenience (Hillary and Bill) OR some sort of weird balancing act that only exists in a perfect world.

The math works out like this:

Type A + Type B = Power wife and Mr. Mom

Type A + Type A = devizzzle


Maybe it's because I say no and I argue and always think I'm right. Maybe it's because I'm so used to answering only to myself that I give off this "I am not one to be fucked with"-vibe. Maybe I just seem scary because I refuse to be something I'm not.

Or maybe it's all my problem. Maybe I am bound to end up with a lame-ass girly-man who lets me run the show and never challenges me. God I hope not. I thrive on the challenge and I want to be led. I want someone to prove me wrong and show me that they can be the boss of me. I want someone to take control and show me how it's done rather than the other way around. I want a teacher and a leader and someone who wants me to be the same. I want the one I'm not supposed to, the one that let me down (just under different circumstances). I wish I could go back in time and change some things and find a way to make it happen rather than giving up. I wish I had never had found out what he did but I would be delusional if I wasn't somewhat relieved that I have.

Since none of that is possible, I'm left to figure out where I'm going and what the hell I'm taking from all of this. I'm a getting stronger? Am I learning more about myself? Because lately I just feel lost, like I've been on the shelf for a while and if someone doesn't notice me soon I might expire. Life is happening all around me but it's not happening to me. Essentially, except for my job and number of sexual partners, I am in the same place I was four years ago. Sitting here, on the laptop, staying strong and still chasing the boys away, one weenie at a time.

Or maybe I just need to learn how to be the neck and learn how to keep control without letting a guy know I have it. Maybe I need to compromise and ease up. (I can think of three people who will scream: DUH! to this.)

So am I destined to marry someone who will be my bitch for the rest of my life or will someday, someone find my sense of self and opinions exhilarating and fun? Or am I just a hot mess who is confused with how the world works? Or someone who is obviously overlooking the right guy for her (this I don't think is true)? Or, gulp, am I just someone who was meant to be alone and live a more solitary life? Only time can answer those questions for me, but if this theorem works out...the girly-men of NYC better watch out.

Really?

How much worse can the spelling get on Flavor of Love? Season 1 it was funny, Season 2 it was redic. and now it's just horrid.

So examples:

DYMZ
Grayvee
Seezinz
Myammee
Shore-Tee
Sinceer

If you can read these you have been watching this show for way too long.

BOOOOOOOO TO SNOW!

Due to the crap-tastic weather my weekend getaway have been cancelled.

Now on my day off I am watching Tyra. There is, I shit you not, a 90 year old lady discussing vaginas and sex. I think I just got the stomach flu again.

"Someone's been sleeping in my bed..."

I came home today from a night at my mom's house. When I walked in my room, things seemed a little, er, off. Like there was definitely a Goldilocks in my room last night!

1. I couldn't find my effing remotes. They are always in my bed under the comforter. WTF?

2. The comforter itseld is on the bed the wrong way.

3. The pillows were out of order and the throw blanket was folded weird.

I wondered, "Who slept in my bed last night?" It had to have been London who like to crash in my room because she thinks hers is too loud, cold, bright etc. I don't care but she usually send me a text to give me the heads up.

Update: Suspicion confirmed as she told me when she walked in the door. I should have known by the comforter.

For real?

So Perez is saying that Steve Guttenberg is going to be on Dancing With the Farts this season...REALLY?

Part of me is so excited that I want to pee myself and the other half of me is like, WTF?

I always had a thing for Mahoney from Police Academy and Lobo from Don't Tell Her It's Me (I only know of one other person who knows of this film...if you do, you are awesome).

But this man has been in no where for the last like 10-15 years. Why make this your big comeback?

Also, Adam Corrolla may be on as well. Why do I picture him "accidentally" taking of his partner's dress exposing her boobs while Dr. Drew winces and Jimmy Kimmel cheers.

Who else are the gonna drag up to do this show? Here are a list of people I would LOVE to appear on Dancing with the Farts:


1. Manute Bol
2. Roger Clemens (with weekly testing for HGH)
3. The kids from Yo Gabba Gabba (especially Seth)
4. Rhea Perlman
5. Lark Voorhies (Where is she?)
6. Bobby Brown (his gyrating would make for some colorful remarks from Bruno)
7. Eric Stoltz in costume as Rocky Dennis
8. Ice-T's wife Coco
9. Stephen Baldwin (I can't get enough of this guy)
10. Daniel Baldwin (put these boys on the same season...it would be a train wreck!)
11. Pau Ruebens
12. Mystery


Any other suggestions of random folk they should get to make ASSES of themselves?

An Open Letter to the girlfriend of Perry on Make Me a Supermodel

Whoever you are:

ARE YOU A MORON? You suck so bad. Even if he was cheating on you (which he's perfect so I don't think he ever wuld do that), you suck it up and deal like Nora Walker (as portrayed by the magnificent Sally Field) on Brothers & Sisters. Ignore it. Let it go. Because you will never get a man as good looking and full of awesome as you have right now.

Brother is so effing hot I would literally lick him on the face if I saw him in person. I would suck on his broken foot and I hate feet.

So seriously girl, get over yourself and tell the man what he wants to hear without being a menstrual beyotch. And make him a tape for Valentine's Day/YOUR ANNIVERSARY.

That is all.

-JONES

PS Why is the world full of such shitty girlfriends when fabulous ones like me are left on the bench?

I word red and everything today. Happy v-day bitches!

I'm gonna get so skinny!

I can barely taste anything because my nose is so stuffed! Awesome!!! Skinny sickness is the best!

Is it just me?

Or does James on Paradise Hotel 2 look like Christian Bale...a lot.

You be the judge.

Also, as I was just on the PH2 website, I learned that one of the contestants has since died...that's really sad. How do you still air that? And the guy died like in October. When was this show taped? Does he die on the show? I hope not...but the show is on my9...they have a show called "Jail." I would not put it past them at all.

Blehrghksdkh

That's what my coughing sounds like. I seem to ave caught the NYC plague and am home sick today. Yet, I still find myself checking work emails constantly. I finally had to ask that they include someone else from my department on the emails because there is no way I can do this work from home. Will I ever get a break? I guess it's my fault for checking in...

You can see this poor girl's thong outline. Hot mess.

The spice girls. Nassau. The bulk of the audience were in utero the last time they toured. I hate teens.

So football is over...

"It was time The Patriots let someone else win. They win all the time." - my roommate, Tiny Dancer who is a YANKEE FAN, who says "Psh" to me when I say this about the Yankees.

Can't have it both ways sista...What's good for the pigskin is good for whatever baseballs are made out of (cow leather?).

Let's go Mets! Yay Santana! (as I say as I am still recovering from last year). I'm ready for some BASEBALL!!!!!!

Thank to the East Village Idiot...

for pointing out this resurgence in Donkeylips' career.

So...

Tom Brady lost the Superbowl this year. He still puts is peen inside Giselle every night. So yea, he still wins.

Another weekend has come and gone

and Sunday anxiety is setting in while I (sorta) watch the Superbowl. Meh.

People in my building are shouting...that means the Giants just did something good.

Small realization this weekend...apparently you can call me Good Luck Jones. I have evidence of at least two hookups who started dating a girl right after we DI'd. Neither was someone I wanted to date, but it slims the odds of making them repeat offenders (which I have always found as an effective method to keep my overall number at a minimum). I always thought my pikachu had magic powers...too bad they don't work in my favor.

Adieu.

The one time I wish I was Sarah Silverman...

Jimmy doesn't know! Jimmyh doesn't know!

I love Matt Damon.

Bravo's Balls

On tonight's Make Me a Supermodel, the wannabe models had to pose nude for an art class. I figured it would be the usual, show them from the neck up, maybe some heiny...um, no.

Apparently Bravo has jumped on the side boob bandwagon. Also they were an inch away from showing pikachu.

I don't want to see side boob Bravo. But I would like to see more of that hot guy, Perry. He better win.

kthxbai.

A-men.

Tiny dancer will burn in hell. This is taken from her 'hot priest" calendar. What's with the bottle of jaeger? And the cig? Amen to both!

I'M GOING TO HOLLYWOOD!

Apparently i auditioned for idol in omaha. Not really but i was watching and this chick is my bizarro twin. I'm going to hollywood!

In case you didn't know...

I'm attempting this thing called "dating." Apparently people go out in public and get to know each other before going home and sexing. Sometimes you get free drinks and dinner! And you don't get shitfaced and forget what happened! WHO KNEW?



Yet another sign of the apocolypse. Start repenting people....

Question...

Does anyone know of any hot spots to meet single men (straight ones)? I know of the obvious ones in Manhatty but I would love to hear some tips on some possible untapped resources.

Lately I've been realizing that I've been recycling way too many guys from the past. I need to meet some new semi-attractive, slightly chubby, hysterically funny guys who are closeted sociopaths with great talents for mind effing me and making me cry. That seems to be my type.

So if anyone has any suggestions, I'm open...

Blarghity blah...

This weekend went by wayyyy to fast. I pray this week flies by. Work, work, work...does it ever end?

In other news, I saw Kathy Griffin at the WaMu Theater at MSG on Saturday. If you ever get the chance to see her ...go!!! She's hysterical.

Anyway, I am in serious need of some drunk this weekend...

I heart Disney tweens...

I just put the Jonas Brothers on my iPod and Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus is now my ring tone.

Yes, I'm 26 and I rock out like a 9-year-old.

And if you don't like it you are a doo-doo head.

Word.

Watermelon bellinis are tasty. At vynl with dm...venting.

Heath Coverage: American Media at its worst

The speculation on these bullshit news shows is redic. They are all just doing this for ratings and the public eats it up.

Personally I'm sticking to the New York Times if I want to learn any other details (which honestly, I really don't, it bums me out).

Sometimes I wish I could shake middle America and explain that there are bigger things out there than celebs. Seriously, most people don't even know who the '08 candidates are or that yes, we are still at war. But if I did, I'd be a hypocrite. I drink the Kool Aid as much as the next guy.

Sure, the untimely death of a mega-star is news, but sadly, it's being exploited for ad dollars.

At least I'm not in England. They are way worse.

I hope i feel better tomorrow.

Watching the asshats on Idol

is not making me feel any better. Let's see if the nachos I ordered help.

Yes. I'm being dramatic. But he was my number one crush.

Signs of the Apocolypse

1. Dustin Diamond becoming a douche.

2. All four Baldwin Brothers on TV shows at the same time

3. Death of Heath Ledger.

Start praying people.

In Memoriam

Check out this post dedicated to Heath, less than one year ago...

An Open Letter...


Or this "If I Could" where I describe my wedding to him (and Robbie Williams at the same time)

I'll be missing you...

1.22.08

The day my biggest celeb crush of all time died. My heart is broken. I will miss you Heath Ledger.

God is mean.

Here are a list of people that God should have taken instead:

1. Jennifer Love Hewitt
2. Jeff Goldblum
3. Carrot Top
4. Britney (she's going anyway)
5. Amy Winehouse (Ditto)
6. Anyone other than Heath Ledger.
7. Julia Effing Stiles

I have legit chest pains and I feel like crying.

RIP Heath. You will always be someone I loved once.


Update: I have not been able to do any work since I found out. I am officially devastated.

Update 2: I'm totally depressed that my niece and soon-to-be nephew will grow up in a world without Heath...

Update 3: I just realized Heath will be in the "In Memoriam" montage during the Oscars. I just want to cry.

Update 4: I'm trying to figure out how to mourn someone I've never even met. I thought about going down to Broome Street but I realize how redic that is.

It feels so nice...

to spend a Friday night in for the first time in what seems like months. TV and sleep are seriously what I need right now! Happy long weekend (to some, I know Mrs. Krabbypatty and DM have to work on Monday)!

I feel you bro.

This up there with Big Red from last year. This song is addictive. London and I decided that if we ever have a hetero-life partner commitment ceremony (when we are 45 and still living together) this will be played. You know this is gonna be on the radio. Enjoy.

Do I or Don't I?

So I've now been on 3 dates with this guy. It's so PG it's rediculous.

The problem is I can't tell if I like him or not. Usually I know right away and I get totally swept up in falling in like. Not this time. I'm numb. He's funny, nice, and pretty effing good looking. What's not to like?

Well, he leaves messages like the guy in that commercial ("Hey. How are youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.") and he doesn't watch TV. What am I supposed to do with that?

But he's different than anyone I've ever given a shot before. So I figure I'll keep trying until I get that all consuming feeling or justs top answering his calls until it goes away. God, I hate this getting to know you crap.

Stay tuned...

Sexual Tension x 7 years

In life, I have been generally lucky enough to hook up with almost every guy I've ever wanted to hook up with. Sure there have been the handful that have fallen through my grasp but ever since I took a queue from my good friend Angel in college, I've pretty much gotten a little something from those I set my sights on. Although I'm not counting the repeat here. I have a tendancy to want people years after I hook up with them and they are either taken or simply not into me anymore (from which I can recover pretty quickly with only three exception and those are the three that broke my heart). But overall, I would say I operate at an 85-90% success rate. Which is pretty funny considering that all of my game is built on the fact that I have no game.

Ok, so back in 2001 when I was studying abroad in London I was man crazy. I had a crush on anything with a peen. Within a mile radius. I swore I was going to fall in love that semester and God did I try. I made out with an average of 5 guys every Saturday night. It never happened. No great love story. All I ended up with were some really good stories.

But there was one guy. One guy who I started crushing about three weeks before we left. Sure we had flirted a bunch of time as we were wasted or passing each other in towels after showering (I had to walk a small flight of stairs to the bathroom and the guys had to travel even further). But after awhile I started to majorly want this guy. Long story short, we talked a big game but the two of us couldn't get our shizz together. We were either too preoccupied, too drunk, or too busy hooking up with other people. But we got along so well and had a rediculously obvious sexual tension (so much so that I was banned from saying his name until I saw his peen).The one night we were both ready, willing, able and alone, we got interrupted by his best girl friend in a crying fit. Never one to break the hos over bros bond (I was friends with her too) I let him go off and calm her down. By the time we were ready to DI, his roommate was passed out in the room talking in his sleep. We stayed up talking for hours and it was really weird, turns out we has so much in common. He pretty much got me (that never happens--only two others guys have come close and they are two out of the three who have broken my heart) and it made me angry we hadn't gotten to know each other that well sooner. Not to date, neither of us wanted that, but to become really good friends. At the end of it all, the roommate sort of woke up and we shared a lingering kiss and I sent myself to bed, never to have the opportunity again.

I saw him again when I returned over spring break the next semester to visit another friend. He had told people I was coming to see him that cocky douchebag. We barely hung out and came no where near the chemistry that we had the first time around. And that was that. I figured I would never see him again but every so often around NYC I would swear I saw him. On the subway. In the W. Village when I was in grad school. On Fifth Ave.

Finally through the magic of facebook, we have been put back in touch. We email, we post to each other's walls and we are even violently Superpoking each other. I figured it was no big deal. Until I found out I will be in Chicago in March. Where he lives. Over his birthday weekend.

As I have now been dubbed "the best present ever," I'm getting a little concerned. The sexual tension is running high (even though the years have only accentuated the amibiguity of his sexuality-I still don't think he's gay but others argue) and now I know I will actually see him. And soon.

So what should I do? I know I have to see him but should I even bother exploring the idea of a hook up? I don't want this to go down as big regret (as it has been since that one night. even the girl who innterrupted us has since apologized to me since she knew what we were about to do and how bad we both wanted it) but at the same time, I don't want to get excited for something that won't happen. Or something, according to DM, has the potential of being incredibly dissapointing.

I have two months to decide. But God, all I can think about is how awesome that one kiss was. And how good it feels to finally get what you want, even if it's just sex with no promises of any sort of continuing relationship.

Does anyone else go through this? I just hate thinking that I have another chance to reverse one of the big "What If's" in my life and I might let it go. These chances don't come to often...

Stay tuned.

Oh, and PS: Turns out he was in NYC a bunch of times. It could have been him on the Subway. Who knows?

And now...

I'm back to being in the office five days a week and I wanna go back to Vegas...that city is like a guy who is awesome in bed but a real douche. It makes you feel dirty but you always want more.

No Viva Las Vegas

Can you believe it? I'm still in Vegas. But at least I get to come home tomorrow.



Let's recap all that has happened to me.



1. Went to a party hosted by Perez Hilton and Kristin Cavaleri's 21st bday party (by accident). I saw neither of them. Danced. Drank. Fell in love with the DJ at Cathouse. Realized I hate clubs and the men who inhabit them.



2. Walked up and down the strip several times. That's like 4 miles round trip plus all the walking in the casinos. I better be effing skinny.



3. Rode the deuce. Yes, the bus here is called the deuce. And it's like a tan/gold/brown color. Vegas is stupid.



4. Went to an aquarium. Laughed hilariously while DM freaked when she touched a sting ray. Fell in love with watching jellyfish.



5. We were having the time of our lives. Then we decided (or I decided) to take the Deuce to "Old" Vegas. Um...yea. This is where things literally went to hell. I mean it. If hell exists it'sthe Fremont Street experience. I saw legit crackheads. And drunk hookers. And they were selling 99 cent DEEP FRIED TWINKIES. And then something happened. We decided to play along and get those giant sized margaritas at a place called Le Bayou. A few sips, a few plays on a nickel Monopoly slot. Then....nothing. Black out. The next thing we knew, DM and I were dressed to go out. I didn't feel well and WHAT! My wallet was $140 lighter. Then we remembered we started playing "Deal or No Deal" slots. And decided to pump twenties into it. Then I was just pissed.



Oh yea, and apparently we were roofied or something because I was SICK as a dog all day Sunday. Not really roofied, but c'mon. I have never been that drunk off some cheap margarita. We weren;t even sure if we took a cab or the Deuce home. And we drank like 7 vodka sodas the night before (on top of frozen drinks before we went out). WTF? I hate Old Vegas.



6. Then, doing my work thing, I randomly bumped into Chris Hardwick (former host of Singled Out), Jon Favreau and that bald guy who played Charlotte's second husband on SATC, Evan Handler.



7. Got treated to a really nice dinner at Wing Lei in the Wynn...sweet!



8. Learned that Vegas is not like NYC and people do NOT know how to appropriately use a monorail.



That is all.

Help me....

I've been in Vegas for three days now. I want to come home!!! DM just left me and now I have to go to two days of meetings out here...HELP! This city is depraved and scary. I feel like I'm a CSI victim waiting to happen.

PS I have seen hell and it is "Old" Vegas. The one drink I had there has almost killed me and I seriously need to consider full time sobriety.

Happy 2008!

First post of the year. Here's to more mayhem in 2008...I already have two skinned knees from last night so I'm sure my upcoming Vegas trip will provide enough fodder for posts for January.