30 is the New 21

Friday was BDP's birthday. We're officially observing this momentous occasion by going to Vegas this coming weekend for some of those carousals we all know and love the City of Sin for. But since her birthday was actually this past Friday, we had to do something.

So, we're all in our upper 20's or early 30's. That means we're adults and full of maturity, right? Well here are a few of the things that went down Friday night that might suggest otherwise...

1) We didn't pay attention to any of the warnings we all know about in regards to what alcohols one shouldn't mix together.

2) In following with item #1, we had margaritas with dinner, followed by champagne, then a fruity Chambord shot, then a tequila shot, then our regular vodka based cocktails, and then beer. Oh, and then another shot. I don't remember what that shot was. Go figure.

3) At the last bar (TUG) I actually found myself asking: "Liquor before beer, in the clear, right?"

4) On the stumbling walk home, I actually thought that I was maybe sober enough to drive home.

5) When we got back to BDP's place I REALLY wanted to eat something. The salad I had for dinner wasn't cutting it anymore. I made an oh-so-sophisticated PB & J sandwich. I didn't cut the bread in half, folded it over, pulled the crust off ('cause crust is yucky), then stuffed it in to my mouth in one big classy bite.

6) I laid down on the couch, "just for a little while," until I was okay to drive home.

7) I woke up maybe a half hour later with that familiar nauseous feeling in my stomach. Acting on instinct, I ran to the bathroom.

8) I went back to sleep on the couch again, pleased with myself for making it to the bathroom. I decided to perhaps lay around for another hour or so until I felt okay to drive.

9) Then...the sun was up. It was 8am. I was lying on the couch, still in my halter dress, with no blanket and very cold. My contacts were still in and my eyes were so dry I could barely see anything. BDP's two cats were lying on the back of the couch watching me. They had inquisitive looks that seemed to say, "What is this hussy with mascara smeared eyes and a boob hanging out doing on our couch?"

There's nothing like a 30th birthday celebration to make you feel like a 21 all over again.

Email Etiquette

I have a new pet-peeve: when people respond to an email (that has several people copied on it) but do not hit "reply all." This is especially annoying when the topic is relevant for EVERYONE on the email. And it usually is. That's why they're CC'd in the first place. Everyone makes mistakes about this from time to time. And I have more patience with the blackberry people out in the field (because the buttons and screen are all so tiny!), but there is one regular offender who works at a desk maybe 50 feet from my office. She NEVER hits reply all. It bugs.

This is a normal scenario:

1) No-Reply-All Girl (NRAG) will ask me, over email, about why a sales person is trying to do something for a particular ad. Since NRAG works in inventory planning, her questions are usually related to the amount of product needed for the promotional event. I usually don't know the answer to this, as my realm of control is over competition/pricing/profitability.

2) I forward the email to the appropriate sales person (who she also knows and could work with directly)and make sure to copy NRAG so she can see the response and get her little answer. The message I send usually says something like this: "Please see [NRAG]'s question below."

3) The sales person usually responds to NRAG's question (including both her and me on the email). Often times their response is a question addressed to NRAG, asking things like, "If we move the ad date to X, can we have the inventory?" or "How much product is available?"

4) And here's the moment of real annoyance: NRAG will respond to their question but ONLY COPY ME on it. So then I have to forward her response to all the relevant people again and say, "Please see the response from NRAG below."

Why? WHY? WHY?!?!?!

That is all just bad email etiquette.

An Unlikely Moment

The other day I ran into H, the older sister of TCN. She was helping the Apartment 1 Guy move out. He was already moved out--she was just taking out the few remaining pieces of trash and shutting the windows. Things have been kind of strange between her and (apt 1 guy). They used to date and then apt 1 guy broke up with her. She wanted more and was sad about it, but he insisted that "She isn't the one." Then for awhile he was dating (read: sleeping) around, but he and H remained good friends. They hung out all the time and occasionally slept together I heard she wasn't handling the situation all that well. Understandably, it was hard seeing (and hearing) him with other girls.

When we bumped into one another the other day, this is the conversation that followed:

ML: So he's all moved out?

H: Yeah...I'm just closing it all up now.

ML: You keep losing all your men! (This didn't sound as mean in real life. TCN just moved away too. And since I said it with a little smile and laugh that means my intentions were friendly!).

H: (laughs) I know!

ML: Well maybe someone really great will move in now.

H: Yeah, only this time I won't get involved with them.

I really wanted to respond with: "Yeah, me too"

There was a whole moment, a distinct pause, in which I had to hold myself back from saying this. I was referring to her brother of course, and they were close and her loyalties are with him. To imply that I regret anything about us might be in poor taste.

I ended up not doing anything but giving a small chuckle and nodding. Part of me thinks she got all that wasn't said. But maybe she didn't. Either way, I feel like somehow in that moment we understood something about each other.

And then I went into my apartment, and she went back to hers.

Skirts...and some other Stuff

Yesterday's post was on the more serious side. So today I am going to focus on things more shallow. Like skirts.

It is officially skirt season. Due to the heat, I want to wear skirts every day. But I don't have nearly enough!

That's really all I have to say about that.

Now, something a bit less shallow...but it doesn't really count because it's more of a continuation of a previous post. I was talking with the General last night about German Boy . More specifically, about how much my brother does not like me liking the GB. In fact, this has been a topic of discussion with my mother too. We've not ever seen my little brother get his feathers all in a ruffle over something like this before.

Here is what baby brother told me:

"I wouldn’t put too much thought or consideration and definitely do not develop any kind of feelings for [GB]. He is an interesting character…he is a great friend, kind and totally trustworthy to his guy friends, but he is incapable of showing those traits toward females. I have seen him work his magic on many women and even though he is intelligent and fun to hang out with, he is still an asshole to females. I trust him, but I don’t trust him with women. Just a thought I wanted to share. So, don’t get too disappointed if he flakes or puts you off and don’t take it personally either, that’s just [GB]."

So last night the General asked how I felt about GB in light of my brother's opinion. Out of that discussion, here are some of the things I realized about the situation between GB and myself:

1) While I think it is sad he does not live here and that we can never pursue us, I am not really all that sad about any of it. I am not moping; I am not wallowing; I am not drowning my emotions by consuming large amounts of ice cream. In fact, I'm not really doing anything differently. And that is because I did something with GB that I've never done with another guy ever. I was honest with myself. I was completely honest in my head all the time about what this could and could not be.

You might think that's a strange thing...who is knowingly dishonest with them self? Well people lie to themselves all the time. They lie to themselves about their true motives, they lie to themselves about how they're really feeling, they lie to themselves about their behavior, what it means, and how it appears, etc. (this is why therapy is such a lucrative field). Maybe it's not lying so much as it is withholding all the truth. But whatever you want to call it, it's all part of the way we internally justify our behavior. I'm the queen of justificaiton. But no justification was done with this. This time, I was honest with myself. This thing was what it was, and I knew it, and I was okay with it, and I feel fine about all of it now. And that feels great. Three cheers for maturity!

2) I don't care about GB's past. I really don't. Normally, I would. It bothers me when other guys I like have "a past." And when I met him three years ago, his past bothered me then. But I just don’t care about that now. I like him despite it.

3) I would marry GB. I mean it. I would. I wouldn't marry him tomorrow, but I would get engaged to him tomorrow (if he asked and if it made sense). But alas, I know it does not make sense and that he will not ask.

(BTW I have only said that about one other person--the dumb ex--and I didn’t really mean it with him. I was blinded by stupidity and youthful exuberance.)

GB is gone. I’m ready for another! Bring it.

Woe is Us

Last night was so hot. It was like Hades in my room. Seriously, Pluto (Hades) would have been able to chill there comfortably.

I don't want it to get more hot than this. EVER.

I have been aware of/concerned about global warming for some time now, but this heat makes me even more scared.

Soon my apartment will be right on the sand, but we won't be able to use the beach because the sand will be so hot that it will give third degree burns through our beachy sandals. We'll need special beach boots just to survive on the path down to the water.

(I am being a bit dramatic).

Another fabulous side-effect of the heat and humidity: mosquitoes. They love me. But they usually love me in places other than So Cal. Not the case any more. I have two fat mosquito bites on my legs.

After having just had Microbio, it is hard not to think about all the serious diseases mosquitoes can pass on. And due to global warming, the range of Malaria infection will spread more north over time. They already have a small number of cases in Baja. So now not only do we have to worry about Hep B (if you haven't been vaccinated) and West Nile (CA has more cases of WN than any other state--don't worry though, there's only a 3% mortality rate), we also get to worry about Malaria.

Joy.

A Higher Bar

On Saturday I hung out with the most perfect man I've ever met. But he lives in Germany. Thus, it is pointless.

That doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy our several hours together, and that doesn't mean I am not sad that he had to leave. Really, all it means is that life can be so unfair sometimes. The other b*tch of it all is that now he's raised the bar. And the bar was already too high! I've spent the past couple of years trying to lower the stupid bar. And then he just swoops in and changes everything...

When I'm with him, I don't think about anything else. We were at the beach for almost 4 hours on Saturday and I don't remember one single detail about anything other than us. What we talked about, what we said, where we sat--that's all I remember. And any thoughts and concerns I had prior to our meeting (e.g. "don't like him...he lives in Germany!") go so far out the window I forget that thoughts like that could ever even exist. It's like he's my kryptonite.

The funny thing is, we talked about the No Number Boy (NNB) and German boy so quickly summarized the situation and why I would lose interest that I'm almost completely turned off to NNB now.

German boy just gets me. He gets me so well that it shocks me.

And the only conclusion I keep coming back to is that this is all just so unfair.

Mouse 101

Tonight I am studying for the GRE. In section 2 of Barron's: How to Prepare for the GRE they explain how to use a mouse. This is my favorite line:

"[The mouse] sits on a mouse pad, its tail (the electric cord that links it to your PC) pointed away from you."

Isn't that sweet.

The Way Things Go

On Saturday night I met a boy. We had a lovely time together. But at the end of it he didn't ask me for my number. We have mutual friends, so I have decided to believe that he didn't ask because it is likely we will see each other again. It's possible.

But the adult in me thinks that if he were really into me, he would have asked for my number. I know that if I really liked someone I would ask for theirs. But I also know that's the way I think. And I know enough to know that while my thoughts on dating etiquette seem logical and obvious TO ME, maybe they aren't.

So I've come to these two conclusions about why I cannot compare a guy's actual actions to the way I think he should act: 1) I am not a guy, and 2) I will never understand how guys think.

In some strange "dating-is-a-game" universe, having a guy ask for your number is like getting a point in that particular match. And as much as we all say there is no game, there is always some type of game. And everyone wants to win. So I was sad when Saturday Night Boy did not ask for my number. Part of me feels like he should have. Just out of courtesy. So that I get my little point and feel somewhat satisfied for a game well played.

But I know more now about the way things go and I realized something today: I would rather a guy not ask for my number than think "Is that him?" each time the phone rings for days after the encounter. Not wondering if he's gonna call is much, much more valuable than that brief post-rendez-vous number-exchange victory.

It might be one point for a phone number, but I'm only going for three-pointers now.

Life is Better Soggy

I've been on a big cinnamon Life cereal kick lately. It used to be one of my favorite cereals when I was a kid, but it's probably been years since I last ate it. But last week, I saw it sitting on the cereal shelf next to the Special K I should have bought. I snatched me up some of that cinnamon-y goodness and have been enjoying mornings ever since. I've realized though, remembered really, that I like Life best when it is very soggy. I actually wait a few minutes after I pour the milk it before eating it to get the right texture.

I don't know why I do this, but I've done this since I began eating cereal and it just feels right. When I poured the first bowl last week I didn't even have a conscious thought about it. I just knew. Pour and wait and then come back and eat it.

I guess eating favorite childhood food is sort of like riding a bike.

3 PM is the New 5 PM

One final down, one to go.

I've almost become a permanent fixture at the local Borders (BTW, I don't actually like Borders...I am Barnes & Noble loyal but for some reason the location, the lighting, the crowd at this Borders is more study-inspiring than our local B&N).

Only downfall, this Borders comes complete with Seattle's WORST Coffee where they apparently can't serve 1% milk because it's a health code violation. Even though they fiddle with milk when they make it all latte-frothy. And even though their momma company Starbucks gladly whips me up 1% whenever I want it. Oh well. A wise old rocker once said "you can't always get what you want." So true, Mick, so true.

Tomorrow after my final final we're going to happy hour (3pm IS 5pm in Chicago). My little school crush is going too. We can call him BBF, for Bio Boy Friend. I'll keep ya'll posted!

I imagine that come 3:30 tomorrow, when I am done with this class and near my new classmate friends, sitting upon my bar stool at the local TGI Fridays, sipping a fruity cocktail and shaking my head at the oh-so-80's red-and-white decor, I will have found a very happy hour.

FINALS...

...suck.

This Crazy Life

I met a guy who is attractive and smart and interesting and interested and worldy. He keeps up with me in all the right ways. Too bad he lives so far away.

Next week is finals week. Summer school is almost done!

Somehow over the weekend I acquired a big spider bite on my face under my right eye. I look hot.

I waited in the drive-thru line for 25 minutes at Starbucks. The only reason I didn't actually walk in was because the last time I went to this same Starbucks at this same time, I walked in and to had to wait almost as long. Why? "Because they make drinks in the order them come in, including the drive-thru." I tried to out-wit them today by driving through this time. It didn't work. And after I'd sat there for too long I was trapped in the line by the plants and a curb! MORAL OF THE STORY: Avoid Starbucks locations with a drive-thru. They take too long.