OMKKG We're Old

While perusing FB last week, I was notified that it was that special time of year again - new pledge classes of adorable little freshman babies have entered into the sorority world. Gah I feel 100.

Seeing the last remaining member of our family dynasty - my younger cousin Kristen's pictures (Hi!) - made me nostalgic. It seems like yesterday that was me. Maybe that's what fossils think when looking at dinosaurs? (For the sake of the analogy, please disregard the fact that fossils don't have eyes. Or that dinosaurs are extinct. Thanks.)

While rush at the University of Texas is interesting (read: stressful, panic-inducing, annoying, sweaty, political), it was an experience I'll never forget. One of a kind.

Then along came the parties, the meetings, the committees, all of the t-shirts you just have to have. It goes by so fast.

awww memories

The less great stuff - drama, the pettiness, the unnecessary bullshit - it fades.

Before "recruitment" - I guess since I was on panhellenic exec committee I should probably use the politically correct term - I wasn't even sure being in a sorority was something I was interested in. Not to make you gag with sentimentality, but every day I'm grateful I did. I made life-long friends who I can't imagine my life without.

Part of the legacy

And to just really layer on the emotion, one of my favorite things about my sorority experience is being part of a three-generation legacy. Sisters in the bond. Or something. Hopefully it continues.

But that's not necessarily what runs through your mind when you're in the middle of it. While you're there, you soak it in. That's your job. I miss that job.

Now I'm craving a luke warm Keystone. Better go dig out a monogrammed coozie to go with it. Ah college.

A Night of Diverse Events

Remember that time I always lied on this blog? Specifically when I said I wouldn't have anymore birthday-related posts? Well gear up for one more.

As part of my gift to The BFF, I got us tickets to a comedy show featuring SNL and Comedy Central writers at Comix, a comedy club in MPD.

It was a funny show. Out of the six comedians who performed, only one was a woman, Jessi Klein, who had a bit of a Tina Fey thing going on aka I want to be her friend. Her routine included a joke about how she was now officially reaching spinster status, but instead of being offended by the moniker, she thinks women should take a lesson from black people and change it to a version that's no longer derogatory. Spinsta. Haaaa.

Another comedian performed part of his set in the downstairs area that we stumbled on during a pre-show bathroom trip. Then later during his actual set, we realized he was using some of the same material. We were both very uncomfortable. Do we have to laugh again? Then it dawned on me, "Oh crap, this is how my friends feel talking to me in person. 'Yeah, I read the blog, thanks for telling me the story again.'"

Awkward. Sorry.

Anyway, due to Comix's proximity to 'da clubs, afterward we headed to Avenue. Celebs go there. At one point Lindsay Lohan was banned from it. It's also referenced on some TV show apparently. You should be impressed.

And even though we aren't 18 and 85 lbs like all the wannabe dELiA's models who were there, we made it inside with minimal annoyance.

Yes, we are ballers.

We talked with a few different guys, including a 40-something Indian man who told me he would pay for me to live in Miami with him for the winter. Had he made this proposition in February, I might have agreed. Wow I am not looking forward to the cold weather. Wow he was creepy.

After suffering through a round of drinks and his attempts to buy my affection, The BFF came to my rescue. She even put on an award worthy "I have to go home, I feel sick" performance. What a friend.

Except when I really needed her later, she let me down.

On our way home she agreed to stop at Kennedy's with me. I know. I have a problem. Someone host the damn intervention already. It's getting out of hand.

While we were in there, we were greeted by an entire flock of neighborhood children. Do you have a fan club of 17 year olds? Because now we do. We even have some Silly Bandz bracelets to prove it.

What a night. From the classiest club to the shadiest late night eating joint. We're really making the most of the New York diversity, aren't we?

Guest Post: The BFF's Solution to Our Biggest Problems, Pt I

[Editor's Note: The BFF and I both have a lot of "theories" and "ideas" about what would make the world a better place. The following is just a taste of her genius. You're welcome.]

If I wasn’t so busy with a full schedule of drinking and being skechy then I would probably be running a campaign to be New York’s next mayor. Yeah, I can see your eyes rolling now, ASS. Check yourself.

I wouldn’t change much about this DAMN AWESOME city, but there’s one thing that has consistently pissed me off…all of the ambulance sounds.

Every 5 seconds I hear that ‘WAHWAH’ crap. I’m sick of it. So I’m going to do something about it.

As your next mayor I would vow to swap out this ‘WAHWAH’ nonsense and go with a more sophisticated alerting sound. YEAH THAT’S RIGHT, I’m talking about the merry music of casino slot machines. Nothing says ‘hey bitch get out the way’ like the sound of sweet coin falling into some old fat lady’s lap.

Dude, if I were racing down Broadway in a wahmbulance I’d be freaking out. On the other hand, if I was in the ca'chingbulance I’d be planning my next weekend in Atlantic City. And we all know that making plans for the future is a sure sign that everything’s gonna be alright.
Happy Friday.
 
In a related story, we both really want to go back to Atlantic City this fall. Any takers?

The Height of Maturity

Last night I rekindled my friendship with my Yearbook Protege. Yes that should sound as dorky and awesome as it was. We ended up at Crocodile Lounge for "dinner" - if you've never been there, you get a fresh baked brick oven pizza free! with a drink, no I don't know how they make money either but it's amazing. It happened to be Trivia Night.

Apparently Trivia Night also conveniently coincided with Hot Guy Night. We both took note of a tall blonde who my dad would totally refer to as a "young strapper" and my mom would call a "hunk." I would just say he was smokin'.

And he talked to us. And he got my number. Because I am on top of my A Game.

One slight problem. He just moved to NYC two weeks ago to attend Columbia Law School. While crossing my fingers, I asked if he had worked in between law school and undergrad. "Oh yeah, this summer."

No. That is not working. That is going through your tween years, you child.

Afterward, I went home and lamented to The BFF that he was the same age as my younger brother. She pointed out that at least he wasn't the age of my youngest brother (20)...Look at her and her positive out look on life! So true. Then I would be an actual cougar, which apparently was never really a trend in the first place?!

She changed the subject to let me know she got a new magazine: STAR "Celebrity assistants tell all." But then after waving it in my face, she refused to read it to me like a good night story, prompting me to tweet that she was the worst person ever. (Happy hour and Twitter rarely mix for the best.)

Today via gchat:

The BFF: im sorry i didn't let you know about the assistants confessions. they were pretty hilarious.

me: I STILL HATE YOU FOR THAT

The BFF: i know....im willing to work through it though bc i want to make this relationship work.
 
me: I appreciate that. I"ll take it into consideration.
 
Anyway, I just wanted to share in case you saw the status update and were worried that there was marital strife in Wifey Land. Don't worry, all is forgiven. Especially now that I've learned the horrible assistant secrets, thanks to the Gawker guide summing up the abuse. I could have it much worse.

Monsoon Season

When it rains, it pours. Hot guys, that is.

It's raining men, hallelujah. It's also raining rain. Less joyful celebration.

Oh Mother Nature, why must you always be such a buzz kill? Couldn't just give me one glorious week of two dates AND sunshine? Thanks. For nothing.

Because of her, I sort of resembled a drowned rat on my date on Sunday (I went to the movies with a person other than The BFF - a guy no less!?) 

Another date last night (by now perhaps you're catching on that this post is just a very poor, faux-attempt to shield my bragging about going on two dates in three days), another opportunity to make a good impression with my "Nothing Will Make This Look Attractive" Humidity Fro.

Guys know it's scientifically impossible to look your hottest when it's the rainy season, right?

I mean, I really did put in effort. I'm sorry. It was the best I could do.

Fingers crossed my new climb back up the Singles Bell Curve toward World Domination will maintain its momentum until the sunny weekend! You better not have been lying to me about the sunshine, weatherman! Gotta look my best!

P dot S: Speaking of weathermen, I have a horrible, horrible, personal confession. I watched Bachelor Pad on Monday. In my defense I only saw 1.5 hours of the 2 hour episode where the most annoying guy ever, The Weather Man, got kicked off. It's just as ridiculous as you'd assume it to be.

I'm judging myself, don't worry.

The Best Day with the Wurst Guys Ever

Just one more birthday-celebration-related post I promise. But really, we all know I suck at blog promises so we'll just have to see, now won't we?

To extend the festivities, The BFF and I decided to take a little wifey date for a boozey brunch thanks to a Gilt Groupe special. The restaurant - B.E.S. - was great and we had the best burgers of our lives. This should not be taken lightly. We are both burger snobs. Truffle oil, brioche buns, delicious aioli. Had they been able to incorporate a little goat cheese (everyone knows how amazing goat cheese is, right?!), I probably would have gotten down on one knee and proposed.

To the burger. Not to The BFF.

Anyway, from there we continued the fun at the Standard Beer Garden in MPD. Since I had never been before, The BFF gave me the play-by-play tour of the time she went and John Mayer hit on her friend.

Yeah she sat and had cocktails with him, and shockingly, he was as toolish as one might assume.

Being a dbag, I soon learned, is pretty status quo for the guys there, but when in Rome... Or in this case, a German-themed snob fest...one should embrace it.

As we navigated through the patio, we chatted with a few groups of guys, but we had our sights set on a trio who were just perfectly fratty enough to warrant our attention. We circled the Tommy Bahama-clad crew like sharks until we were finally armed with enough liquid courage to make a move.

It worked. Gold Star for Rachel. I mean, "So, uh, how are those mojitos?" is obviously the most clever line ever...

It took less than one minute of conversation to learn that the cutest of the group was also The Worst Person Ever. But in a funny way. Because FJO douchery is now just comical, not lust-worthy. Although technically he's no longer an FJO, because according to his friend, he "doesn't really have to work."

Ah, sigh, the life of a trust fund baby. My next life.

While there was definitely no soulmate action going on, the guys proved to be fairly entertaining. Up until the Best Thing Ever happened.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a former fling. By "fling" I mean he flung my heart against the wall, then picked it up and stepped on it. Rinse and repeat.

It was during my first year in the city - not the shining star of my dating past - and every time I've run into him since, I always think. "How could I have been so stupid!??!"

He spotted me while he was playing ping pong, sauntered over like the swaggering jackass he is, and asked me and The BFF if we wanted to play with him.

We obliged. I was on his team, playing against The BFF, his Least Biggest Fan Ever.

Now, The BFF is not one to hide her emotions. After an afternoon of day drinking and armed with a weapon, this is even less likely.

Not five minutes into the game did the manager have to come over and escort her out the door for being too aggressive. I mean, in her defense they shouldn't put the tables so close to innocent people's chairs! And, sorry, she used to play tennis!

Hilarious. When I recounted this story to Ashley later, she asked "So was she hitting him with her paddle or the ball?"

Thank goodness it didn't cross The BFF's mind to use the former. (I probably would have peed in my pants from laughing so hard.)

Since then he has called me three times. Dude, I can barely call my family on the phone. I responded - via text, obv - that I didn't feel like talking to him. Zing. And I then refused his offer to hang out.

Might have only taken two whole freaking years, but I've finally regained my self-respect and the upper hand in this situation.

[Did you know it's really hard to type while you're using one hand to pat yourself on the back?]

What a glorious end-of-summer smackdown. I could really go for another burger to celebrate.

If You Blog It, They Will Come

Don't we look so classy and grown up?

The BFF, getting so wise in her old age, predicted the future.

After complaining about my lack of fall dating roster candidates, she promised that I would meet someone at her birthday party.

More like three people. Playa playa indeed.

The party itself was a success. The bar - Ten Degrees - had a private backroom that was perfect.

It also had a perfect owner/guardian of the backroom. Soon after we got there, he kicked out a group of (unattractive) guys who snuck past him.

I thanked him for his watchful eye, but also told him that if any attractive guys came back there, to let them stay. You know, to make sure the ratio was in our favor.

Me and The BFF with Wes, the only NYC roommie
we haven't hated. Isn't he precious?

No more than five minutes later, two cute guys wandered in, followed by the owner. I gave him an inconspicuous head nod to signal they were fine.

Great choice. Turns out the guys were super nice, a good addition in their own right, plus they ended up having a few other friends come meet them later.

Enter in Guy #1 and Guy #2. Guy #1 got my digits, texted AND called me later that night. I'm not interested, but it's the thought that counts.

During this phone number exchange, I sassily lamented to Guy #2 that he wasn't as aggressive as his friend. Turns out Guy #2 randomly went to the same high school as two of my friends at the party. Oh this small world in which we live!

Through one of them, he found me on FB the next morning at 8 a.m. From there we exchanged a few witty banter FB messages and texts. We hung out twice this weekend. We're probably getting married next week.

Unless things work out with Guy #3. I thought I had run through all of the quality FoF candidates but nope, one more was hiding!

Speaking of hiding, that's what The BFF did with the last wing from our shameful Kenney's post-party stop. Because "she knew I would eat it if she didn't." Valid reason.

Taking a Hook 'Em picture when only a small fraction of the
group are Longhorns is hilarious and awkward.

[Yeah, I know, it's getting ridiculous. Clearly that contract I wrote had about as much validity and was taken as seriously as a celebrity marriage license. The BFF and I joked about how we should cerimoniously burn it, but then we remembered there's already been one fire on our street this year. If you're so concerned about our late night fried chicken binging you should probably start planning an intervention. I mean, that's what a real friend would do. Or join in sometime. Either way.]

Oh what a night. I just love birthdays.

P dot S: Since no birthday is complete without some sort of hilarious text exchange, I have to share the best text sent in the history of text messaging: 

After The BFF's ex boyfriend sent her a sort of asshole/too cool for school birthday text that began with "hey chica" - I mean really, no guy ever needs to utter (or type) those words - she responded with "I am horrified by your shit."

No, I don't exactly know what that means - and I don't really think she even knew - but it's a pretty fantastic, six-word summation of the truth. 

Me and my Chica. JOKING GOSH.

Bored at Work And Or School Today?

This should keep you busy for a little while.

It also answers a lot of questions that keep me up at night.

'TGIF' Stars: Where Are They Now?

Product Review: Best Eye Lash Curler Ever

Do you have a friend who is sort of your beauty messiah, e.g. she always chooses the best products that you inevitably become a super fan of?

I do. Her name is Mary. Sometimes we call her Show Pony. Thanks to her and her long blond "mane," we used to get quite a few rounds of free drinks in college on 6th street. Ahh those were the days. Even if they weren't free, they still would have been $2. Sigh. Affordable nostalgia.

Where was I? Oh right. Mary has turned many a skeptics into a Bare Minerals believers. I, the least loyal consumer ever, have been using it - and loving it - for four years. Yes, that is my longest relationship to date. I think that means something.

The other great thing she's turned me onto is the Shu Uemura eye lash curler. Girl, it is amazing. This week I had to buy a new one and figured I might as well spread the word.

Without seeing the before pictures of my beady little eyes, you might not be able to understand why a $19 eye lash curler is worth it, but it sooooo is. I promise. (This coming from this most cripplingly frugal person ever.)

Anyway, awhile back I read that the company was discontinuing selling its products in the US. The Sephora sales girl I asked said she didn't know what was up with that, so act fast.

Clearly I'm not known for reviewing beauty products left and right - I've only done it once - but hopefully I can open someone's eyes to this great find. (Yes, I do love to make "dad jokes." It's part of my charm, or something.)

Not to get your hopes up, but it might change your life.

[No I was not compensated for this post. Yes, I wish I was.]

Happy Birthday to The BFF

If you hadn't picked up on it yet, August is a big birthday month in my life. And now it's The BFF's turn to celebrate.

In her honor, I tried to find the perfect way to express my feelings. Then it clicked. A poem.

I can't imagine
my world without you.

I can't imagine
not having your arms to hold me close (We're not very touchy-feely.)
or your sweet smile
to brighten my days. (Sometimes.)

I can't imagine life without
our secret jokes,
your tender kiss,  (Sorry, no.)
our loving words whispered
long into the night.  (More like you coming in to tell me funny things you read on D-Listed.)

You are a part
of all the hopes and dreams
I hold closest to my heart. (Especially the ones where we marry hot, rich twins.)

I believe my heart
has always known
that I would find you
and I would love you... (As a sister, not a lover.)

I can't imagine my world
without your love. (Again, platonic.)

I feel like I've loved you all my life. (See above.)

Okay, so maybe recycling the completely overwhelmingly awkward card a guy gave me for my birthday in high school after knowing me for one week wasn't the best choice. (Yes I have the actual card with me, I had to bring it from Austin. It's too hilarious, especially since it's double-layered and from Hallmark. Because he cared enough "to send the very best.")

Let's try this again.

Humor me. Someecards.com let's you create your own cards.

That's really more of a gift for the world. I am musically-challenged.

Def going to hell for that one.

Happy birthday! Can't wait to celebrate!

Cry For (Dating) Help

As my mother or pretty much anyone who knows me well will tell you, I don't particularly like to humble myself. Humility isn't really one of my strong suits. Unless I really want something. And then it's called manipumility.

Which reminds me, I need something from you. Because you're so great and wise. And pretty on the inside and the outside.

So what is it I want?

A date. A fix-up. I really could use some Match.Mom magic right about now, but alas the distance does me no good.

So, if you happen to know of a single, non-troll-like, non-moron who is capable of sometimes making jokes (they don't even have to be that funny - I have a broad sense of humor - I will laugh) who lives in Manhattan (okay fine, I'll expand my reach to Brooklyn - if it's off the L train) then please, let me know.

Also, it would be nice if he had a job. And was under 35. And was taller than me (I'm 5'8").

And liked girls with blogs who would probably write about the date for The Internet to know all about.

Is that too many requirements? I mean, considering I haven't gone on an actual date all summer, maybe I should be less picky. Let's go with "alive" and "not the worst person you've ever met."

Why all of a sudden do I feel this pressure to start dating? Because I've officially transitioned from lazy/indifferent to quasi lame/pathetic. And I need some roster-fillers before the fall starts. Before I get antsy. And before I really start to embarrass myself.

The tipping point was last weekend when I ended up hanging out with some mutual friends, including a cute guy who I had met before. At that point I was under the assumption he had a gf, but apparently that's not the case. Anyway, allegedly we spent a lot of time talking (the night is hazy; sometimes I'm a lush).

Fast forward to the next morning when I felt that it was totally acceptable to text him (still hazy) to tell him that apparently I had his number and that the entire night was a blur.

Then instead of waiting for that out-of-the-blue-contact awkwardness to wear off, the next day I decided that I should friend him on FB. Gah, I might as well have sent him the names of our future children. FML.

While this might not sound incredibly CGS-y, it's definitely the early warning signs. And I know if someone pulled these moves out of thin air on me, I'd be all 'Woah buddy calm down, I don't know if I'm ready to commit.'

So, while I've been sharing this story that plummets my reputation to new, previously unexplored levels of awkwardness, I assume you've begun jotting down a few names of potential candidates. Gracias!

But perhaps, since we're all selfish deep down inside, you're possibly asking yourself, "What do I get out of this?"

Well, for starters, you become my new favorite reader. Sorry, mom, you're out.

And, and this is a big AND, if things really take off between us, you will have a very special role in our wedding, complete with a toast where you're honored as the official reason we're together! Well, you, and The Internet.

Who could resist that?! Potential matchmakers can find my email in my "About me" tab.

P dot S: The last time I made a public plea - that time for a new wingman - I was contacted by Elle from Do You Fancy Us. While initially both of our mothers were worried that the other person might be a crazy serial killer who agreed to an unlimited mimosa brunch at Essex House, it totes turned out perfectly!! Case in point: I will be hanging out with her and Em, who will be in town visiting, this weekend!

I expect nothing but this high level of results from this go 'round.

War, What Is It Good For?

We’re going to take a quick PSA break from my dating failures and talk about something mildly serious for a minute.

Does that make you nervous? Are your palms sweaty? Wow, calm down. No, I’m not going to lecture you about that beer I found in your car or how you broke curfew. Gawsh, stop crying.

When the war in Iraq started, I vividly remember watching TV footage of bombings while in my Chemistry II AP class (cough cough nerd). Now, approximately one million years and two life stages later, it’s still going on. [Insert depressing Mission Accomplished joke here.]

Before my trip to Hawaii in ‘09, I didn’t have any connections to active duty military. Then after staying with two officers who had literally just returned from Iraq, I found myself immersed in Army life for a week. The guys were the kind of people you immediately liked and respected.

I came away with a much better understanding and greater appreciation for those who risk their lives for our country – and so much empathy for their families who support them. We got to know one family in particular - genuinely some of the nicest people ever - and watching the wife's Facebook status about her husband's deployment makes my heart sink. That life is hard. But she survives - with three kids no less! All while I'm busy ranting about over-priced iced coffee.

One of the guys we stayed with recently sent me happy birthday message. He relayed a little information about his deployment, including levels of heat this Texan can’t even comprehend. I mean, I throw a hissy fit every morning if I’m stuck on the subway platform for more than 30 seconds. MY MAKEUP IS MELTING! First-world problems. I don’t know how they survive.

In addition to him, I also have another friend currently deployed as well. Different war, same issues. Both are hot, dry, and dangerous.

Political views aside, we can’t stop supporting those that risk their lives in military service. I couldn’t do it, and most of the people I know probably couldn’t handle it either.

Even if they don't remain at the forefront of your everyday thoughts (hopefully they're not updating their FourSquares..."Officer So and So just checked into a cave in Afghanistan") keep in mind they’ve been to hell and back for our country. We should be grateful.

And hopefully they’ll be back safe sooner rather than later.

Update: Apparently it's Military Appreciation Week. I didn't even know it! How timely.

Newsfeed: Thx For Rubbing My Nose In It!

Gah. It's finally happened. My "One Before The One" fate has been sealed. Last week The College BF proposed to the girl he met soon after I left. Mind you, this event took place during my random Cali trip. Ah the irony of juxtaposition. While he's busy turning into an adult, I'm off visiting a chronic man-child in Never Land's West Coast Annex. Fantastic!

http://s59.photobucket.com/home/christinarensch

Then, to top off my single self-pity, this weekend jolly ol' FB announced the World's Biggest Douchebag (WBDB) from my Hampton's summer share days of '08 - and first catylst for NYC CGS - got engaged to the girl he ended up hooking up with that summer.

In both cases, I’m not surprised. Mostly indifferent. Mildly weirded out, yes. And definitely not going to go so far as saying I’m happy for them (primarily due to my current spinster status). But not upset.

Witnessing everyone around you (via The Internet) get engaged is strange.

[Will blame some of this post's grumpiness on the fact I've been sick and it's Monday. Wah wah poor me.]

Guest Post: Alone By Choice

My mom and I have a lot in common, including the fact that we're both writers and both lived in New York during our mid-twenties.

Here's a poem she wrote 32 years ago, which perfectly describes my feelings about the current state of my love life.

Thanks for sharing, mommy!

A.B.C.

Alone by choice
On a Sunday afternoon. What to do?
So much to choose from -
It's hard to move.

Met another man with smiling eyes.
How long 'till I find a smile that's mine?
Until then, just the thought that I might
Will occupy my mind.
Maybe a day and a night.

But what of the stretches,
Weeks at a time,
No love in sight.
No thought to hold?

It's not all bad! Make new friends,
Stay in touch with the old, you
Can't find what you don't want - strings of gold.

Don't have it, want it.
Get it, lose it.
Shifting desires based on availability.
To be happy with oneself is the only tranquility.

How long till I find a smile that's mine?
I guess it's written in the sky.
The twinkle is always brightest
In a new man's eye.

Caren Roberts
7/17/78

I Might Have Flippers, But You Should Totally Call Me!

Ahhh, so many ideas are good in theory. This new dating tool is one of them.

"Flip Me" is a service that provides users with a stack of cards to hand out to randoms. The cards then refer the person to flipmedating.com. There she or he enters the "Flipper's" ID and code from the card. You can exchange messages, get to know each other, plan your wedding, etc.

As much as I've complained about the roadblocks in picking up guys, you'd think this would be something I'd be all about.

False.

Reason 1: The name "Flipper" is so awkward. What are we, dolphins or something? No, just no.

Reason 2: This video below showing a woman testing out the system makes me muy uncomfortable. In the time you explain what the hell is going on, you could have just introduced yourself. [Even more hilarious, she's picking up guys at Crunch, my gym! And the 2nd guy she meets there - around the 2 min mark - I KNOW. AHHAHAHA. I die.]



It should be noted, though, that the woman looks pretty dayum good for 36. Kudos to her.

The BFF Abroad

Since I met The BFF in sixth grade, we have typically been separated for extended periods during the summer months while she travels to Lebanon to see her grandma. Since we’re sort of real adults now, she hasn’t been able to take her full-length vacay lately, but she is there for a week now. And I’ve come home to an empty house. So lonely. Wahh co-dependency.

Thank goodness they invented The Internet so we could stay in touch. Or so I could make sure she was still alive as was the case a few years ago when there was a little incident where Israel and Lebanon were Trying to Blow Each Other Up. I watched CNN worried that my friend was okay. At first via AIM she was all "No, it’s cool, we’re fine." Followed soon after with "Oh crap they’re evacuating us." Evacuation, as it turns out, was just as bad as it sounded. The BFF was not a happy camper.

Anyway, in honor of her absence, I’ve scoured my old Hotmail inbox to find some hi-larious emails from a time long ago when we – shockingly – might have been even more awkward than we are now.

Here are a few gems from The BFF circa 2000 (summer after 7th grade):

"are we still on for the double b-day? cause like if we are....we'd get trillions of presents and let's say u didn't get one that u liked we could trade presents!...and think of how jealous erica would get!....hehehehe" [Erica was my old best bud. Clearly The BFF won out in the end. Also clearly The BFF has her priorities. Her bday is next week, I better get a trillion presents to her liking.]

"AM I GAWKY??????????AND DO I REALLY SHUN PEOPLE?" [The answer was yes and yes. Although The BFF lost her gawkiness around '08ish, she is still a shunner.]

"boys are interesting...............very interesting..........so interesting i find them very stupid.......very stupid...........well i'll have to tell you later what happened last night.....for yes it was interesting........." [I think we had this conversation last week. Although I'm sure in this instance whatever was so interesting was prob just a boy acknowledging she was alive or something.]

Now for my favorite thing I found. The backstory is that she was supposed to go on her first 'date' with a guy but then missed it because she was stuck at her uncle's birthday party. Oh the humanity.

"boyssssss i hate them every single one.....they all suck......y did i have to be late from my uncles????????????????? i am so mad i am crying..........well...was crying......i even wrote in my journal about the pain cause like the 'experts' say to write about it but that didn't help crap [At this point I actually LOL'd.] ......just made me sadder............o well......he was so hot and he had green eyes! and he was such a jack ass........ahhhh......but he was rich.......his cousins has a freaking rolls royce and their dads work together so think of all the dinero he must have!!!!!! can't wait to give the gory detailsss i missss yoU!!!! i hate it here w/ all my heart i hate it....but maybe things will perk up tomorrow... my uncle (who has now ruined my life) adn the brats and every1 is coming to spend the day tomorrow and i plan on going to the beach or something JUST AS LONG AS I DON'T SEE THEM EVER AGAIN........do u realize how much my life sux right now?????aHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! [What a drama queen!!] so what's this i hear about ur mommy setting up her baby girl??????? LOL...i missed a movie but i at least my mommy didn't fix it up! [10 years later and my mom is still fixing me up. FMLOL.]

ur very grown up friend
The BFF

ps..don't tell ne1 [Please tell me no one uses this abbreve anymore. And I'm going to assume the statute of not telling "ne1" has since warn off.]

How much have we changed in the past decade? Milestones and millimeters.

I'm glad we're still friends.

LA Woman

I’m back from La La Land. I hadn’t been since spring ’07 when I visited a high school friend living out there, subsequently deciding the entire city was vapid and I was above all that. Ahh what a few years in Manhattan can do to change your mind!

When you live in New York, going to California is like seeing the world in Technicolor. Not to sound dramatic or anything, but it was mildly life changing.

There.is.so.much.space. Yes Texas has that too, but LA has the beach. It has a skyline of palm trees. It has that laid back SoCal spirit. Deep down inside I’ve always been drawn to it all. Especially the beach part.

As part of my goal for the trip, we went almost every day. There is nothing more relaxing to me than looking out on the ocean with a book in my hand. Apparently I have the same priorities as a sixty-five year old woman. I am fine with that.

While I was there, I learned that, in terms of not being real life, the differences between LA and New York are as negligible as Disney Land and Disney World. Different states, same make believe.

I also figured out that living the dream in LA is very different than living it in NYC (or anywhere else for that matter). It seems so chill, man. People are flakey, but they're friendly too. Easy Breezy. Loves it.

Regarding Jim, the underlying purpose of the vacation, I’d say it was a little of column A, a little of column B. I had a great time with him, and he served well in his role as the Boyfriend Experience, but I’m not leaving like a sad little lovesick puppy dog. I think you have to have a heart made of something besides ice for that to be the case.

In terms of his host abilities, he was top notch. Having had a string of visitors all summer, he was great about organizing activities including:

• A beach picnic by the Santa Monica pier for their Thursday concert series.
• A stop by Vera Wang to look at wedding dresses. (I know, what guy ever would let me do this?! His friend works there, and she gets to help celebs! Talk about living the dream?)
• A hike at Runyon Canyon. (If you read any celeb gossip magazines then you know famous people always take their dogs there. We didn’t see anyone sadly. Yes this trip sounds a little celeb stalkery; yes I know they have invented the internet for that reason.)
• A bbq pool party at his friend's place "in the Valley." (For some reason anytime anyone mentions the Valley I always think of Clueless. Brittany Murphy -                       R(ollin'withthehomies)IP.)

Unfortunately I'm still sans camera so there is not one picture of me from any of these activities. {Facebook friends let out a sigh of relief for not being forced to stalk any pictures.}

Another high point of the trip was hanging out with Jim's guy friends (a novelty since J and I broke up). Considering Jim is one of the funniest funnier people I know, they were definitely entertaining too.

After being around him with his friends coupled with spending some extended QT together, I discovered that Jim’s basically the exact combination of my previous three boyfriends. Weird. But it gave me sense of familiarity that usually takes awhile to develop.

The BFF and I have discussed the importance of having the ability to be quiet with another person, to not feel like you’re forced to talk to or entertain one another constantly. I think Jim and I both did a good job with this. Hopefully he feels the same way. Also, me bringing along The Girl Who Played With Fire definitely helped. (Yes the series is good and yes you should read it.)

To be honest, I’m not really sure how I feel about him coming away from the trip. And same goes for me not knowing about how he feels. My practicality ruins any fantasy that something will happen between us. And, even if distance weren't an issue, I'm not sure whether anything would/should come from it. Maybe it is what it is. But at the same time, who knows what the future holds? Life is a long time.

And I’ve met worse guys.

P dot S: Something else I realized while I was there: LA is basically a cooler version of Houston. For some reason on this trip, while driving around LA, I started noting its similarities with H town. You know, minus that whole Pacific Ocean thang. But just the sheer size of both cities, each made up of different neighborhoods and areas, everyone in their cars wanting to die in miserable traffic. Houston is the LA of the South.

I can imagine no one - on either side of that comparison - will be too happy with that opinion.

Happy Birthday, Dolo

Today my grandma turned 80 years old. A few weeks ago I called to check in with her and she was telling me that once she hit the big eight-oh she was finally going to retire. This woman is the Brett Favre of the Houston Community College counseling system. She was like, "You know, I work really hard, but now that I'm going to be 80, maybe I should just have as much time as I want to myself."

She was feeling pretty smug about her work ethic in her golden years. Then I was like "Well Betty White is 88 and just started a new TV series." Don't want Dolo getting too cocky!

Anyway, I called her today to wish her happy birthday. She had just left a fun beach trip with my mom and aunts where she received her surprise birthday memory book.

Do not ever underestimate the inherent sneaky capacity of the women in my family. They devised a plan to break into my grandma's condo, steal a copy of her address book, and mail people directions on how to write a letter to be included in the book.

My letter went a little something like this:

"Dolo, your vanity license plates sum up a lot about you. First, the key word is vanity -  the reason why you look so good for your age. The other day I showed someone your picture and he couldn't believe you were 80. Nice work.

The second reason your license plates are important is that you could get by with just one name, sort of like Cher or Madonna. Speaking of Madonna, for your birthday, I got you a new Latin boy toy just like she has. I found him on the internet and he should arrive in 6 to 8 weeks. I can't wait to meet my new abuelo."

Sentimentality is obviously my strong suit. Love you, Dolo!

[Insert Song Lyric About California Here]

As we speak (literally writing this from my Virgin flight. It's my first time. Bwahah), I’m headed to La La Land to visit, um, a friend. Hmm. Sounds sketchy. Oh but it is.

This friend, who has made the blog and contributed to the blog back when we were just actual friends, moved out there a few months ago. Then, this summer, he came back to visit when I was unattached. We hung out for literally 20 straight hours and didn’t kill each other. I think that says something (considering we’re both fairly annoying people).

He kept asking when I was going to visit. I figured, what the hell, it’s not like you live in North Korea or something, might as well treat myself to a little vacay. And, oh yeah, spend time with you.

This situation has three outcomes:

• It’s awesome and perfect, leaving me upset when I come home and nothing can happen between us (cause, duh, long distance is the wrong distance).
• It’s fine. Average. No harm, no foul.
• It's a great opportunity to pick up a souvenir from Suckville, USA.

So we shall see. I’ll update you upon my return.

When I told my parents about the trip, my mom was all cool okay whatever. She told my dad, who brought it up when I called to wish him a happy Father’s Day.

Dad: So, uh, what’s up with this trip to LA?

Me: Oh, you know, I haven’t been there in awhile. I wanted to get out of town and since I got jipped out of that family cruise…

Dad: Well, okay. Just keep in mind that there are a lot of places in Los Angeles where “Anglos” aren’t welcome.

Me: Ummmm? Okay? I think he said something about being a Crip so it's fine. (Joking. I did not say that.)

This is the most typical conversation ever. My father is a worrier, but not about normally what you would think he’d be concerned with, e.g. his precious daughter visiting some random across the country. Nope, he’s worried about race issues.

Sort of like the time I was headed on a European backpacking trip and instead of lecturing me on problems I’d actually face, e.g. crazy money stealing gypsies, he sat me down to talk about how “the bird flu was spreading west.” I kid you not.

Cross your fingers there are no bird flu outbreaks or gang riots I find myself in the middle of while I'm there. I do NOT want to hear, "I told you so..."

"Pls Let Me Live The Dream"

That's the text I woke up to on my birthday from one of my best friend's from college who was visiting. I also woke up to a table full of leftover Kennedy's shame (no it's not the first time we've broken the contract. Yes, I am a blog hypocrite. I am not proud.). And the Wedding Crashers' quote, "Death you are my bitch lover" running through my head on repeat. For some reason that's always what I have going through my mind when I'm hungover.

Needless to say it had been a great night.

The BFF and me. She kind of looks like satan, but in a hot way.

Like you already know, I love my birthday. As a self-admitted narcissist, I relish in the attention. Birthdays are a great reminder that you're awesome. Between the FB wall posting/ego boosting and having people come out to celebrate your existence, you just feel so special.

But more importantly, I love bringing together all the people who are important to me (and are in town). I've always been the type to be friends with a lot of different groups. What can I say, I'm very diverse. (That's not actually that true.) But I do like to think of myself as a person who connects people that otherwise wouldn't be friends. Oh wow I have totally just turned into my mother, The Queen of Networking.

Side note: For this reason, I cannot wait to get married. I have so many friends who haven't yet met, and I'm dying to all get them together. Oh, and to have a party to celebrate me. And, you know, whatever guy I bring as my date. I mean choose to spend the rest of my life with. Maybe this is a sign I'm not quite ready to settle down? There is no "I" in wedding. But there is an "I" in "Insanely awesome wedding." Also I made a promise to myself I wouldn't even think about marriage until I knew for sure I wouldn't get blackout drunk and try to make out with a groomsmen. I don't think I'm quite there yet.

And, you know, that whole I have no one in my life issue.

Okay I'll sidebar the wedding talk. It's making everyone uncomfortable.

Some, not all, of my fellow Longhorns who celebrated.
Football season countdown: 1 month!!

Overall, the bday weekend was perfect. The weather, the company, the late night eating. I wore this red dress - a decision crowd-sourced on Twitter thanks to The BFF (technology is so helpful!). It was the perfect "Hey Look at Me, It's My Birthday" ensemb.

We went to dinner at Cafetasia. I will be honest, I'm a notorious group-dinner basher. Having been forced to pony up ridiculous amounts more than I owe on many occasions, I usually have a bad attitude. You know, except when it's my bday.

Candid from dinner. Please note two BFFs (Ash & Mere)
 who had never met bonding!

The restaurant was perfect. Ave A in between 5th & 6th if you live in the city. Great food, big tables, giant picture of an elephant on the wall. Awesome. And I definitely won an award for "Most Economical Bday Group Dinner of All Time." $25 per person including alcohol. I can't even walk into Duane Reade and spend that little.

From there we headed to a lounge where I'd gotten a hook-up for a free bottle from a random FB friend who turned out to be a club promoter. Granted it only lasted 1 drink per person, but still, baller.

The place was great because it was plenty of space for me to showcase my dance skillz. I'm also pretty sure they played two Ace of Base songs. Not to be redundant, but baller.

Blarney Cove groupies.

Per my mother's advice, I've continued to stretch it out. Elle & Nicki, who both missed Saturday night, each treated me to dinner to celebrate (and catch up since they both are incredibly popular and have been gone 99% of the summer.) Too generous!

Thanks to everyone for all your kindness, toleration of my Birthday Monsterness, and all around friendship awesomeness. You are zeee best. Get ready for my wedding in 2099.

And my bday wish? To quote Mere: "Pls let me live the dream."

Love y'all,

The oldest person in the world who is not dead.

BRB I Gotta Jump Out of the Window

I was going to blog about my awesome bday weekend tonight, but instead The BFF, our friend Laurel and I watched The Bachelorette finale.

I don't know how it happened either.

Could not have chosen a worse activity. I love watching shows where a girl has two smokin' hot perfect 10's fighting for her love.

I have no one.

Great choice, Rach.

[If you watched it, let's all agree that Chris is prob my soulmate. What a quality dream boat.]

[Oh yeah, also, is there anything more window-jumping-out-of-inducing than watching a makeout montage to Can You Feel the Love Tonight? No.]

On a better note, though, The BFF made an excellent dinner of eggplant parm. Great pre-vacay diet plan. Woo eating your feelings.

Our New Spot

Big news. I think I've found The One.

No, I'm not talking about a guy. I'm talking about a bar.

The BFF and I have never had a place where we're regulars. We decided we needed to change that since there are a few good options within a block or two of our apartment. No not the creepy Tiki bar Otto's Shrunken Head.

But we found the place. Maybe we're rushing into it - I mean, technically, we've only been there twice - but sometimes you just get a feeling, ya know?

Each both times we've been there, we've met some interesting people, including a 60 year old Latin American man wearing a matching white linen shirt and pants, who told us crazy stories about how everyone thought he was gay but now he's married. I was not sold on this being the truth.

The best part about the company, though? That company includes dogs! We're hoping the pet interaction will temper our desire to get one of our own. Or maybe it'll make it even worse. Maybe we got a dog this weekend. GOSH, JOKING, MOM.

Anyway, on Friday night we went there for happy hour with one of my college BFFs who came in town for my bday. In addition to there being a few cute guys, there was also a hilarious-looking French bulldog in our presence. If you know me, then you know that's my favorite city dog. Why?

A) They're small enough you can pick them up if they refuse to walk - a frequent occurrence during our dog sitting days with Daisy (The BFF and I miss her!); B) they're more legitimately-statured than little fluffy purse dogs; C) and they look like hilarious alien babies. Hilarious!

So needless to say I was excited. The Frenchie had a big spot on its back and one on its eye. The BFF approached its owner and said, "So your dog's name is Spot?" The owner was confused. She tried to clarify again. He then informed her that his dog's name was LuLu. The BFF was totally perplexed. But she's covered in spots?!

So of course, now to us, this dog's name will forever be Spot. And, crazily since Friday evening, I've seen Spot twice outside walking! I love making friends at our bar!

P dot S: As sort of a social experiment, I gave the blog address to a random guy I met there. He had texted me, and since somehow the blog had come up in conversation, I responded with the note: "If you read this and don't think I'm funny then you probably won't like me in real life." I have not heard from him. Maybe it's a good way to weed people out, maybe it's way too agressive? We shall see. But either way, it's efficient.