Love at first sight?

A few weeks ago, I was out with my best friend at a bar we frequent fairly often when two slightly older and slightly below average looking men approached us. I was hoping it was my friend they were interested in, but when the older looking of the two men looked right at me and said "I saw you from across the bar, and I fell in love," I quickly gave up hope. He said he liked my "outfit" and that when he noticed I was wearing glasses, he fell in love. (Odd that the glasses did him in... he wasn't even wearing a pair himself...) I tried my best to be polite while assuring him he was indeed not in love, not with me anyway. He blabbered on until I honestly couldn't take another second, so I pretty rudely grabbed my friend's arm, dragged her to the bar and promptly ordered two jagerbombs (classy, I know).

Maybe 10 minutes or so later when I didn't return to my new admirer, he approached me again. This time his strategy was different. With a little bit of anger in his voice, he said "I'm leaving, but I just wanted to let you know that you just walked away from the best thing that ever happened to you." Word for word. I swear. My best friend will verify – if you know her, ask her.

I'm not going to pretend like I don't like a little male attention every once in a while, and I generally can handle unwanted attention very well. But "I'm in love with you" from a stranger, isn't exactly what I was looking for. As far as male attention goes, pathetically enough, that's the most exciting it's been for me recently. I want a guy I was "seeing" for a few months to invite me to a party he's throwing for 50 of his closest friends (I had plans for the night of the party anyway, but that's not the point) or to, I don't know, not "see" other girls too, instead I get a balding over-dressed stranger falling in love with me – it's like a mean joke.

So Mr. Love-at-First-Sight, let me be the first to tell you, it does not exist, especially at Irish bars. Trust me, and hopefully it'll save you a future heartache. Besides, I'm a cold-hearted bitch who can't connect; you'll find someone better.

Harry Potter & The Gyno

Harry Potter and the gynecologist - clearly one has nothing to do with the other, or so you'd think. I had a gyno appointment the other day, and I, of course, had my copy of Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows in my bag with me considering it just came out this past Saturday (Actually finished the book today - It was great). So there I am lying on the examining table in my gown with my leg in the stirrups freezing my ass off, and my gynecologist notices my copy of Harry Potter sitting on the chair. She apparently is also a Harry Potter fan and starts asking me questions about Horcruxes and Lord Voldemort during my exam. I don't know why maybe it has something to do with the innocence of it being a children's book, but I found a gynecological exam an extremely inappropriate situation in which to discuss Harry Potter and his quest to defeat evil...

I Heart Hicks

Memorial Day weekend I went camping with my brother and a small group of his friends in central Pennsylvania out near Williamsport somewhere. We actually drove through "World's End State Park"... An omen that maybe we should have turned back? It seemed like we were in a county transplanted from Alabama to only a few hours northwest of Philadelphia.

Overall, the trip was fun, but mostly because I got to learn so much about a class of America I have had little contact with prior. Here are some things I learned:

1. People who live in trailer parks actually go on vacation to other trailer parks
2. People really do wear those "I'm with stupid" t-shirts
3. Camouflage is still very in, especially hats
4. The mullet is certainly not a thing of the past
5. 90% of children over the age of 10 know how to drive, and do.
6. Laws are a lot more lax - especially those concerning gun control, fire works, speed limits, etc.
7. Some people come up with very creative names for their dogs like "Hound Dog" or "Big Boy"
8. Everyone drives an American-made pick-up truck or SUV
9. Definitely don't show up to a demolition derby in a foreign-made sports car
10. Actually, just don't show up to a demolition derby at all- I promise no good'll come of it.
11. And finally, yes, their votes count just the same as ours do.
    

Clean Sheets

I just washed my sheets in an attempt to wash away all of the recent sins committed on them... obviously kidding, my study schedule didn't permit time for sinning of any sort. Anyway, when my sheets came out the dryer, it reminded me of being a little kid watching Saturday morning cartoons and my dad throwing a pile of warm sheets on top of me. There are very few things in this world that make me happier than clean sheets. Someday when I am sickeningly rich, I am going to have my maid clean my 320942395894356 thread count sheets every single day - mark my word.

Doctor, Doctor

I don't generally have anything against doctors. I work at a hospital; I have doctors as bosses and family friends; and a good number of my friends are going to be doctors some day. But there is one thing that really bothers me - the title of "doctor". Inside the hospital walls and within any other sort of professional setting, to a certain extent I understand calling people "Dr. Smith" or "Dr. Jones" etc., even though the the social workers, nurses, accountants, whoever are all called by their first names. But outside of a professional setting, since when is it normal to refer to people by the level of their education?? I doubt I'll ever be able to convince anyone to call me Counselor or Esquire. My brother has an MBA; should I start calling him Master Butler? Or Master Mike? Maybe I'll start refering to my younger teacher brother as Bachelors + 15 Dan. One of my friends used to date this guy with a G.E.D, and I don't think even I could have gotten away with calling him GED Anthony....

Sex Tax Deduction

It's so weird how sometimes your life is reflected in your dreams. For example, a few days ago within 12 hours I received three really strange phone calls: one from an ex-boyfriend being surprisingly and even disturbingly nice right before I went to bed; another in the middle of the night from a guy who... well, I am having a hard time putting our relationship into words... one of those ongoing but absolutely not going anywhere kind of things; and then first thing in the morning (9am to be accurate, I don't think I've ever called one of my friends pre-noon for a non-emergent conversation...) from a guy "friend" who doesn't think that we should be "friends" anymore (I didn't protest). Anyway, that night in my dream all of my ex-boyfriends and ex-love interests, etc. were sitting lined up in the living room of my parents' house and I had to choose a husband from among them... I cried.

The next day I studied for my tax exam all day, committing excessive amounts of the Internal Revenue Code to memory. That night before I went to bed, like every night, I read some of a non-law related book. The book I am reading right now is about this affluent New England college in the 80's where all the kids do is a lot of drugs, drink excessively, and have lots of sex...I mean lots of sex, guys with guys, guys with girls, girls with girls... it's by the same guy who wrote American Psycho. In my dream that night, I was the personal accountant for the characters in the book, and I was trying to help them figure out their "sex deduction" on their income tax returns. Apparently, the deduction was a complicated formula taking into account how many people you've slept with as well as the pure number of times that you've had sex.

Maybe I am insane...

“E-mail is for geeks and pedophiles”

This story was posted once before, but I took it down due to some of its other content - Enjoy!

There is a relatively unknown danger in emailing a girl – she might be like me and make a really bad mistake - one bad enough to scare any guy away from emailing a love interest ever again. There is a classmate of mine who is significantly too short for me, not very attractive, but nice enough. However, he has – no, had - this habit of asking me out and making me feel pretty damn uncomfortable about it. He's given me his phone number a couple times via email, but I have always rather politely declined any invitations to hang out outside of school. I am sitting at my desk at my summer job bored out of my mind and I get an email from him saying, “Fancy seein' you yesterday. We should grab a drink sometime” and then he gives me his phone number (again). Crazy part is I hadn’t seen the guy in months. So I thought it was funny/creepy and proceeded to forward the email to a couple of my friends, each got a good laugh out of it. Then I decide to send it to my cousin, figuring she'd find it funny too. I write a long email calling him a creep, a caveman, making fun of how he doesn't take hints, even quoting parts of my friends emails about him, and hit send. 10 minutes later I realized I replied to his email by mistake. So, I actually sent this kid an incredibly nasty email calling him a creep just because he asked me out for a drink. I do realize that I am going to hell, and if it has a V.I.P. section, there’s a seat saved for me there… Lessons: 1) Don’t send mean emails, but if you do always double check the To: line first. 2) Don’t ask a girl out over email that has already rejected you to your face; she will make fun of you, either to her friends or accidentally to your inbox.