Double Wedding Postponed (Indefinitely)

The BFF and I have both been abstaining from FJOs during our recent bouts of singledom. Much like how the markets needed time to recover, so did we.

But recently she met a cute, younger guy who is working his first job in finance. Having only dated older FJOs, the two of us had no idea how bad those at the bottom of the totem pole have it. Seven days a week, considering "midnight" to be an early release, never seeing the light of day.

Then it dawned on me. It's basically hazing. Except with a paycheck.

For example, he was telling us how last week the older guys took them out to a club. The FJOs-in-training were left with their credit cards ("We could spend a few hundred on each, but not thousands" - I guess the recession isn't over?), but after their fun, they were expected to go back to work. Ugh. Hell Week with bottle service.

Anyway, even though his schedule has been an impediment to them hanging out, boy oh boy is this guy super dreamy. Think Young JFK Jr.

And, OMFG, did I mention he has an identical twin brother!?!?!? I literally died. Commence dream sequence of beautiful, preppy, Hamptons Double Wedding of the Century.

But then, after a night of hanging out with them, which included their other roommate dancing up a storm with me (why, again, is it that guys think I just loved to be spun and dipped? DON'T THEY KNOW I HAVE A HEART CONDITION!?), things took an interesting turn.

No, unfortunately that turn of events was not us eloping. Tear.

It turns out The BFF's interest is listed in a relationship on Facebook! If this is the case, why on Earth would he accept her friendship request?

Perhaps it's because he's a child who doesn't know better?

Sigh. There was so much potential there. By, there, of course I mean us marrying gorgeous brothers so we can become real sisters! Not so much in her relationship with him. I mean, he literally works every second. Ew.

Disclaimer: The BFF would like everyone to know that she is still a baller and has plenty of other, non-relationshipped guys on her roster. Just in case anyone was concerned.

Gym'spiration

No, just no.

My gym is full of cute guys. But they all tend to remain in the scary "boy zone" aka weight area so sadly I am not surrounded by them.

Although, sidebar, the other day I went to a different location and had a terrible workout. There was zero motivation there AT ALL, if you know what I mean. Plus, there's a Crumbs cupcake store directly underneath it. Now that's just cruel, right? (For the record, I didn't go there, Judgy McJudgersons.)

Anyway, at the good location, I take a lot of classes that are almost exclusively filled by women, but lately there has been a cute guy joining my Wednesday "ultimate conditioning" session. I've spent weeks trying to determine if he's gay (typically the case if he's put himself in that situation). Then it dawned on me: Perhaps he's just a genius straight guy perfectly positioning himself in a class full of attractive females.

Last week I got my answer. Unfortunately his confirmed hetero status came in the form of him wearing hibiscus board shorts. No self-respecting gay would ever be caught dead in those at the gym. Especially in September!

If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times: Board shorts are not real shorts!

But in his defense, he is still making me try way harder in that class than I normally would. My triceps thank him.

Weird Stuff Always Happens in 3s

Within a very short period of time at the beginning of the summer, J and I broke up, LA Jim and I swerved off the path of friendship toward something more confusing, and I met one of the cutest/smartest/least terrible guys I've ever gotten to know in a long time.

The guy, we will call him The Russian, I actually mentioned in the post about that silly little heart defect. Which I've come to realize was just an expensive hassle to finally figure out why it is I have zero rhythmic capabilities - hello I have an irregular heart beat! My internal metronome is whack! This totally explains amazing my terribly awkward dance skillz!

Anyway, The Russian worked literally two feet from me (separated by a glorious cubicle partition) for the first half of the summer for a small investment bank we share office space with. From literally the first second I saw him I thought, "Oh crap how could they have hired someone so good looking!"

I made it my mission to not let myself like him, especially once I found out he was a Foreign Ivy League FJO-in-training. They are the worst. Except that it turns out he wasn't. He was actually ridiculously nice.

We became lunch buddies, eating in Bryant Park together, running errands, and getting ice cream.

Once we coordinated a picnic with friends for a summer movie in the park, sipping wine and watching Sean Connery's James Bond cross the line with a woman in a situation that can only be described as not really consensual.

And one time we even met up to play tennis on a Saturday morning, which somehow included a trip to Donut Plant, the best donut store ever. (Clearly anyone who thinks it's totally fine to combine eating and working out might be my soulmate.)

Sigh.

But through all of that I figured it was platonic, total friend zone. Then the weekend before he was scheduled to go abroad for the rest of the summer, we kissed. Mission Accomplished.

And now, the next time someone asks me "What's a goal you ultimately reached after facing initial obstacles?" I'm totally going to bring up this example.

Anyway, since he's been gone, a lot has changed. But really, nothing at all.

And, because the universe is a crazy place, within the same week, all three guys came crashing back into my reality.

Having not heard from J in months, I got a text about meeting up. We went to dinner, discussed the good and the bad of our lives, and then out of nowhere (in my opinion), he announced he thought we should get back together. Whaaat? No. This time last year we went through this same song and dance. It's just not right.

The real icing on the cake of that night, though, was literally five minutes before I met J, I got an email from LA Jim telling me he had finally mailed some running shorts I'd left there. And PS, he "met someone," in case I was curious why he was acting weird and being uncommunicative. Oh I figured it was that he lived across the country and nothing was going to happen? Oh, and the real kicker, he felt compelled to tell me he met her right before I came to visit. Because obviously I really needed to know that.

The only good of having ghosts of "boyfriends" past coming back in my life was seeing The Russian last weekend. Still as cute (I'll be honest, gorgeous is a more accurate adjective) and adorable as ever. Who knows if anything will come from it, but even The BFF recognizes what a catch he is (and she was not a fan of the aforementioned others).

Like I said, so much has changed but really nothing at all.

Guest Post: The Fade Out

More genius insight from The BFF:

There comes a time in every budding relationship when you ask yourself, “Is this person really what I’m looking for? Yes, he’s x,y,z, but I need some a,b,c as well, and his t, u, v is starting to creep me out. No, this will not do.” This is when you should begin the process Rachel and I lovingly refer to as ‘The Fade Out.’ Sounds harsh, but doesn’t it seem harsher to have a formal ‘break up’ with someone you’ve met 3 times?!

Here’s how it’ll all go down:

1. Boy will call girl.

2. Girl will not answer.

3. Boy will leave Girl voicemail.

4. Girl will not listen to voicemail (most likely deletes it.)

5. Girl hopes that that’s the end of that.

6. However Boy waits 4 days.

7. Boy sends a ‘let’s get together soon’ text.

8. If Girl is nice she’ll say sorry she didn’t call you back.

9. Girl will be lying.

10. Girl will then say she has a bunch of plans already this week. (oMg life my is so HECTIC right now!)

11. Boy will say ‘okay then let’s do something the week after then.’

12. Girl cries herself to sleep because Boy just doesn’t get it.

13. Eventually Girl mans up and ignores all of Boy's outreach.

And you KNOW Boys do “The Fade Out” to Girls. This will be hard to believe but I’ve had 2 idiots use it on me. One apparently now twirls fire for a living and the other uses tanning beds and owns man jewelry…SO REALLY NO LOSS TO ME.

Now I’m going to put this out there and don’t be surprised if I end up receiving the Nobel Peace Prize or some other prestigious award in the near future:

Let’s cease contact after that gd voicemail. If you don’t hear from the person you called, just move on. Girl will get back to you if she wants to.

And if you have a real life example of a relationship blossoming because of incessant pestering THEN GO AHEAD AND TELL YOUR STORY, BUT I GUARANTEE THERE WON’T BE ANY.

That is all.

[Ed. note: The BFF is forgetting about the ease of the Fade Out when you have a blog! Woo!]

What I'm Looking For Is A Phil Dunphy

Please tell me you watch Modern Family right? It's so funny. I will be honest, I might not always have the best taste in men, clothes, or music, but I do know good TV. 

I love this show so much that I even wrote a "spec script" of an episode, otherwise known as "fan fiction." If you're extremely bored, I posted it here. Don't judge too harshly, this was my first stab at TV writing...



"In your face, girl with a negative tattoo." - My favorite line
from the season premiere.

Anyway, the point of this post! Modern Family's season premiere was last night, finally back after kicking some A at the Emmy's (hooray!). I love pretty much everything about this show, but I've realized I especially love the dad Phil.

He's sweet, romantic, nerdy in a cool way, makes people happy, tells hilarious "dad jokes." Sigh. I think that's what I'm looking for.

I mean, not that person right this instance, but someone who will grow into that person. How can you tell, though, if who you date now will end up being that quality of a husband, father, etc?

Okay this post is getting a little more thoughtful than I wanted. The real point is go catch up on Modern Family if you missed it.

Wining, Dining, and Learning Go Together Nicely (I Mean, If You're an Adult)

Not to say I didn't get a good public school education or anything, but I have very distinct memories of watching a lot of Bill Nye in class. You know, The Science Guy.

I mean, in seventh grade it made sense because our teacher had a self-professed crush slash obsession slash her mouse pad was a picture of him, not even joking, but the rest of the time I guess teachers just figured they couldn't do any better? And, really, who doesn't have a higher information absorption rate from someone wearing a bow tie and a lab coat vs. someone wearing mom jeans?



At one point I decided it would make things way more legit
if we had some signs. Thank goodness I happen to own
a ton of markers, like way more than the average 25 yr old.

So it was with this inspiration that it totally seemed feasible that The BFF, our awesome friends (who I mentioned live directly across the street), and I decided that we should create a tin can-string telephone across 14th street.

I mean, obviously. Who doesn't sit around thinking, "Hmm I wish there were a way I could communicate with people who happen to be saved in my cell phone that has unlimited minutes."

This seed of genius only took eight short months to blossom into a full-blown bloom of possibility. Maybe the logistics would have been easier to figure out had wine not been a part of each conversation, but whatever.

The point is that we finally had a fail proof plan! It could totally work! We were going to bust that myth! 

Step one: Find some long-ass string. (800 feet of kite string: Thanks, Dana!)

Step two: Get some cans. Easy peasy.


Step three: Out of the kitchen window, toss down one end of the string while holding onto a can.

Step four: Run the string across the fairly busy, two-way street while avoiding getting hit by a car.

Step four part a: Run back across the street to where you started because you realize there's a massive knot in the string and you're totally about to get hit by a car.


Step five: Make friends with people on the street who think you're effing awesome for doing science experiments on a Friday night.

Step six: Finally get the string across the street with lots of slack so cars can drive over it. Genius move.

Step seven: Get another string sent down from the other window to hoist up the can/string.

Step eight: Have everything in place only to realize that giant tree in front of the window might be a problem when attempting to make the "telephone line" taut and parallel.

Step nine: Realize the tree is in fact a problem. Contemplate calling the city to cut it down. Repeatedly call the other apartment to see if they "can hear you." Via cell phone, obv.

Step ten:  Admit experiment defeat. Congregate back together and make up for the failure with all that booze people kindly brought with them.



Failure never looked so good.

And what do you have to show for your weekend?

Kids These Days

I probably woudn't take advice from this kid,
but that's just me.

Maybe it's because I babysat the most adorable little girl yesterday, or maybe it's because I'm PMSing and not feeling like a cold-hearted monster, but kids are pretty awesome, right?

I mean, except when they're throwing tantrums in public areas. Or touching you and screaming Spanish in your ear for the duration of a five-hour bus trip to D.C.

But sometimes they provide entertainment. Like the ones quoted on this email my mom sent me. Forwarded joke emails, much like children, have a time and a place. For instance, Monday morning at work when I haven't quite committed to getting things done yet.

Here are a few of my favorite answers:

HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY?
"You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming."
- Alan, age 10

WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?
"On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date." [True!]
- Martin, age 10
 
WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?
"When they're rich." [True!]
- Pam, age 7
 
"The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do." [False!]
- Howard, age 8
 
IS IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?
"It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them."
- Anita, age 9
 
HOW WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?
"Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a dump truck." [Soooo true]
- Ricky, age 10

The Blog Finally Pulls Its Weight

I'll be honest, the blog and I have a pretty one-sided relationship. While I'm busy thinking of topics and attempting to be witty, it's just sitting around, not doing much. It feels like I'm always the one putting in the effort.

But finally, the blog did some good, saved me some time, and made my life easier. Thanks, Guide to Menhattan.

Because of my glorious online over-sharing, I didn't have to have an awkward 'talk' about ending things with someone I'd been seeing. But let's be honest, I'm lazy. Would I have even bothered to have a "While you are tall, attractive, live in a close proximity to my apartment, and have HBO, I really don't see this going anywhere mostly because we have nothing in common" conversation? Doubtful. (Side note: in a week when that new HBO Boardwalk Empire show starts I might regret this decision. The only thing better than A.C. is A.C. during Prohibition!)

Anyway, instead of resolutely ending things, I most likely would have let it painfully drag out. You know, like a mouse writhing around on a sticky mouse trap? Quite a visual, eh? Instead of painful squeaks I would have been haunted by the incessant follow up texting. You continue to ignore it, but it won't stop. Ugh that's the worst.

Luckily, though, at the same time I was realizing that whatever was going on between us was going nowhere, this guy discovered the Guide. I mean, I don't know how he didn't locate it the first minute he friended me - it's pretty loud and clear on my FB profile - but whatevs.

Right as I began the awkward sticky stage of ending things, he stumbled on last week's post about The Scientist.

His last text was "Ouch I guess guy #3 was nicer than me ooo well it was fun haha."

Yeah, pretty much. See how easy that was?! Awesomeeeee.

The R.A.C.H.E.L. Method of Dating

Dating is not that hard, I promise. If I can do it, anyone can. The most difficult thing is meeting someone worthy enough to want to be in a relationship with. But the problem with dating is that it’s just really exhausting. I’m exhausted just typing this. Or maybe that's because I went to the gym earlier. Either way.

But once you get into a rhythm, it gets easier. I figured I should share a few tips to get you started. Inspired by It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia's (season premiere is tomorrow!!) D.E.N.N.I.S.’ system to dating, I give you:

The R.A.C.H.E.L. System:

R = Reel him in with your charm, wit, and sass. If being a tad awkward is part of your charm (cough cough me), then by all means go with it. This will make him think you’re a quirky girl next door. Guys love quirky girl next door types, I swear. It is the new bread and butter dating demographic. Also, big important note, once you reel him in, don’t switch over to being over-aggressive, insecure, obsessive. CGS is no bueno.

A = Accentuate your natural assets. For some of us it might be the junk in the trunk. For you, it might be your ears. I don’t know. Whatever. Look your best is the point. Dress in something you look good and feel comfortable in. Wait to let yourself go till later on. Your sweatpants will understand.

C = Continually bring up topics that make you sound awesome, e.g. your great taste in music, sports, draft beer, movies, that are guy-relatable topics of interest. Chances are he does not care what happened on this week's episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Save that for an email to me! The worst crime, though, is being boring and/or lame. Even guys who are boring and/or lame prefer girls who are at least kind of interesting. Write some topics on your hand if you have (Sarah Palin stole that patented move from The BFF. No joke, in college she would write stuff on her hand, and once it included "weather." I'm being totally serious.)

H = Hang out with his friends, make sure to incorporate “C” into this step. Also, do not make out with any of his friends. I repeat do not make out with any of them. It's also important to endear yourself to his friends’ girlfriends. Friends’ girlfriends can be your greatest ally. Or your worst enemy. Be smart. Strategize. Impress. Conquer.

E = Engage in serial activities. Whether you start watching weekly football games together, attending concert series, or participating in your local bar's trivia night, become a part of his routine. Then he’ll be like, oh it’s Wednesday, I have plans with my lady friend. See, you just sneakily become his girlfriend without him even realizing it. Sucker.

L = Look elsewhere because this relationship is totes over, even though you would obv have had adorable children together and your initials would have made the perf monogram. But c’mon he lives in the Upper West Side, and this long distance relationship is just very exhausting. What are you supposed to do? Other fish in the sea, my fickle friend, other fish...

You're welcome. Now go watch It's Always Sunny and prepare to be wildly, gloriously offended.

Au Revoir, Ashley

My favorite friend that I’ve made in New York has left me. I’m trying not to take it too personally. She’s off to grad school, and while it’s only a few hours away and I know that she’ll frequently visit the city (her boyfriend is still here), it marks the end of an era.



Martha Stewart-inspired Halloween appetizers
and cocktails. Theme party domination.



We become work friends over two years ago. From there, we progressed to work-out friends. And then regular life friends. Whether it be gossiping, using each other for roommate therapy bitch sessions (luckily we’re both past the psycho roommate stage!), lunch time shopping, happy hour boozing, or hanging upside down in Anti-Gravity yoga, we spent a large bulk of our time together.

When I got a new job last spring, I knew that while we were no longer in cubicles mere feet from one another, we would still stay connected. Thank you, gchat.

And that’s how I feel about this transition too. Although she won’t be a subway ride away from brunching and clubbing (even though she had a boyfriend, she made an A + wingman), I know we’ll stay friends.

Big Apple BBQ partner in crime. The guy dancing
in the background was super creepy,
but the Austin music & BBQ were amazing.
Which is a good way  to convince people to visit.

Well, mostly because she has to. SHE’S COMING HOME WITH ME FOR AUSTIN CITY LIMITS MUSIC FESTIVAL.

(Is it sort of weird I consider this a “practice run” for bringing home a boyfriend someday? Like, here’s my crazy Texan family…I swear we’re normal.)

But Ashley is the kind of friend you don’t want to lose. She is thoughtful, generous, funny, snarky, and smart. It's hard to meet girl friends of her caliber. She is quality. She is a keeper.

I’m always impressed by her ability to do so many things well. Whether it be baking, excellent handwriting, or her rivaling eating ability, she’s been a great inspiration to me. Which I think is very important in true friendships.

Here are a few of my favorite memories:

Ashley with my family. I'm sorry that directly after this dinner, I forced her to drink cup fulls of vodka and instant coffee in my apartment before going out in MPD.

That did not end well.

I take full responsibility.



Ashley came to support me and The BFF during the

Avon Walk last fall. Look at that quality sign handwriting.

I will be honest, this was the pinnacle of our day.

Walking a marathon is hard. Sleeping in a tent and

doing another 13 miles the next day is miserable harder.



This was the night before Ashley's bday. It was a legendary

time of pure awesomeness, celeb sightings, free food/booze,
and a stolen bottle of syrup. We kept it classy per usual. I think
The BFF even did a legendary rendition of her signature hit
"A Whole New World," in the cab on the way home.

 

The beer garden in Astoria wouldn't
let her boyfriend bring in the cupcakes,
so he left them at a bodega. Have
you ever sang Happy Birthday in
the middle of a sidewalk in Queens?
I highly recommend it.



For her bday I got her the cookbook "Eat Your Feelings"
because she is my eating soulmate. Once she even
went with me and The BFF to Kennedy's.
She's not that innocent.

 Good luck! Miss you already!

Fashion's Night Out Domination By Proximity

Farah Angsana Spring 2010

Fashion Week mania has taken over the city.

Last spring I had my first in-person taste when I was fortunate enough to attend a show at Bryant Park. To be honest, I was more impressed with the backstage Mercedes' VIP area I got access to (thanks to my friend Ashley's sweet hook up) than with the designer's clothes, but either way it was a great experience.

Anyway, no show invites this fall but I did take advantage of Fashion's Night Out, the second annual event taking place on the eve of FW where stores stay open late with complimentary cocktails, gorgeous models, and music. The pocket of activity where we ended up - Fifth Avenue by Rockefeller - was sort of like a very stylish block party.

Of the hundred events taking place, the only one I was dead set on attending was of course focused on food. I have my priorities.

{Original picture via Getty}

Hosted by David Chang (Momofuku), Anthony Bourdain (TV's No Reservations), and Jeffrey Steingarten (Vogue food critic, Iron Chef judge), a restaurant overlooking the New York Public Library featured whiskey samplings and hors d'œuvres from Momofuku ssäm bar (one of my favorite restaurants). I was in foodie heaven.

But chatting with Jeffrey Steingarten was nothing compared to what would happen next.

The BFF, our friend Laurel and I left a little before it was over to head to another party. As we walked down the block, who did we run directly into?

Anna Wintour and her entourage. The Devil Wears Prada herself. The belle of the ball.

In the same tone of voice I would almost definitely use if I saw a velociraptor - unwavering terror and excited disbelief - I calmly screeched, "ohmygodohmygod do you see what I'm seeing?"

There she was, in the flesh, in all her tightly-wound bitchy glory. FNO victory and a night to remember. I love those.

P dot S: Only because this blog has sort of transitioned into Guide to Rachel's Personal Eating Shame Confessional, I feel compelled to tell you that on the same night I was two feet away from Anna Wintour, I also ate Popeye's. Red beans and rice > starving yourself to be a model.

Sometimes Even New York Is Too Small

Nothing embarrassing has happened to me in like half a day so obviously I was due.

After work on Wednesday, I met my friend Ashley and her parents, who were in town, for a drink. But not before I managed to scarf down an entire sandwich. By sandwich, I mean a five dollar footlong. I am a cheap fatass, what can I say?

So after catching up with them, the "I'm not going to make it to the gym for the rest of the week" guilt set it. Having had that entire loaf of bread soak up my cocktail booze, I made the decision to get in a little cardio before I went home.

Of course the minute I got into the locker room I discovered that I didn't pack a t-shirt, only a sports bra. I figured what the hell, the gym is fairly empty, only a few people will be offended by my half-nakedness, and I can get over the personal self-loathing of being that dbag who should be wearing a shirt but isn't.

When I was done, I justified that it was already dark outside, might as well just walk home as-is instead of putting back on my work dress.

Half way back to my apartment, who do I see approaching me? None other than The BFF's ping pong nemesis slash The Worst Person Ever.

GAHHHHHHHHH EXPLETIVE EXPLETIVE EXPLETIVE. Why, universe, why do you have to be so cruel? Of all the 8.4 million people...

Luckily he didn't verbally judge me for looking like I was pregnant with a food baby, and I didn't bring up the fact I purposefully didn't return any of his calls.

Ugh, I hope I still have the upper hand. Update: He just texted me. Still have it.

Then, another block later, I ran into a guy friend who lives on our street, but who I never see. Because, of course, I was just thinking to myself "the more the merrier in the case of awkward, shirtless small talk!"

Seriously, what gives?

Every (Texas) Girl Ever Is Ready For Fall

Every girl ever has had an amazing summer: the Summer of S.A.M. (single awesome mayhem) to be exact. Why else do you think it was the record hottest New York has ever seen? Yes, every girl ever is responsible for those insane A.C. bills. Her bad.

But now the weather is cooling off. The days are getting shorter. Every girl ever is sad to say goodbye to the fun, but she's ready for what's just around the corner.

Every girl ever loves this time of year. Even though she no longer has the start of school excitement, every girl ever still embraces the changing season. The spirit of new beginnings. The feeling of endless possibilities.

When she adds up all the factors, every girl ever thinks fall might just be the best season of all. Yep, better than spring flowers, better than summer sundresses, better than Christmas festivities. Well, maybe that last one is a tie. 

So what's the reason that Sept. - Nov. sits at the top?

She can feel it in her fingers, she can feel it in her toes, football season all around us, I'm pretty sure that's how this song goes?

Every girl ever has her game day outfit picked out and her game watching reservations made. As you know, every girl ever is a planner. To make up for the lack of tailgates and stadium visits, every city girl ever has found the best possible alternative: Hill Country BBQ, where fratty Texans congregate.

And, although every girl ever loves the gridiron excitement, even if she wasn't so enthused, I doubt she could pass up the a buffet of boys and beer. Let's be honest, every girl ever is an opportunist.

Fingers crossed every girl ever has a great season. Even if you aren't a Longhorn fan.*

*That's not totally true.

P dot S: No matter what time you're reading this, OU still sucks.

Rarer Than Seeing a Zebra Running Through Central Park

Have you ever seen a zebra in Central Park? Me neither. I doubt it’s ever happened. I’ll Google it later, just to double check.

You know what’s almost just as rare? A genuinely nice guy living in New York. I’ll be honest, up until recently, I don’t think I’d have believed it if someone said they had found one.

“Was he was riding a zebra?” I’d probably have asked. So jaded, friends, so jaded.

But I did. Guy #3 from The BFF’s bday to be exact. We shall call him The Scientist because he’s working on his PhD in some sort of biology/ecology-related field. My very own little Bill Nye. Yeah, the furthest thing from a FJO.

He’s so cute, smiley, and sweet. An Adorable Cupcake to be exact.

He’s also a great inside joke texter. The day after I had teased him about his consultation with his “older brother” type roommate about our dates - and how when he went home they would probably draw up a “pro/con” list about me - he sent me this:

I mean, really, is that not the nicest thing ever? So flattered.

Who knows where things will go with us – mostly because at this very millisecond I have zero idea what I’m looking for, which probably means I shouldn’t jump into anything serious with anyone – but he’s quite a catch.

And willing to tolerate a girl with a blog.

Ending The Summer in The District

Me, Mary, Mere.
You can tell this is an old picture because I'm a blonde.
Sigh, those were the days.

"The District." People in D.C. are almost as annoying as New Yorkers. Gah, what snobs. I love it. That's why I'm headed down to visit my friend Meredith, of "pls let me live the dream" birthday text message fame.

Our other former roomie Mary, of beauty product messiah fame, will also be flying in. Legendary reunion.

When Meredith sent out a pre-itinerary planning email, she asked if we wanted to do something "swanky, preppy, classy and/or dangerous."

Duh, all of the above. Will report back on our adventures.

Have a great Labor Day weekend!

The Perks of a Fake Relationship: Another Dating Company That's Better In Theory

The BFF and I have both complained that one of the crappiest parts about being single is losing your go-to text buddy. I mean, sure we have each other, but I don't think either of us would tolerate constant "what are you up to? i miss you" texts. Although I did get something similar to that from her today due to my lack of gchat presence this week, but whatever that's different.

Thank goodness, though, that someone came up with a company that will send you texts now that you are going to die alone. If you're interested, you can also get sent flowers, chocolates, and self-respect. Just kidding about that last offering!

Ranging from $14 to over $400, Pink Kisses - yes that's seriously its name - will give you a reason to live. According to them, they're a "hot new company offering all sorts of fun & feisty products and services to get girls over heartbreak in style."

To check it out, I took advantage of the free online "gifts" you can send to your friends. If you send anyone these, make sure to give them a heads up because the address it comes from is luv@pinkkisses.com with the subject line "You've been kissed." Aka it will be sent directly to her viagra-sale-filled junk mail folder.

You can make yourself motivating pin-ups:

I feel better about my singledom already, biatch!

As well as digitally burn pictures of your ex.

I felt too awkward doing it to someone who had actually destroyed my heart, so I went with The Situation. The fact that he's making tons o' money right now is pretty heartbreaking so I figured he was a good choice.

Refreshingly therapeutic.

Girl, I say save your money for the Flipper dating site if you're looking to move on, but maybe that's just me and my wild desires to interact with the hottie who I keep running into in my work elevator.

On second thought, giving him one of those cards would be far more embarrassing than my current tactic of awkwardly commenting on stories shown on the elevator's Captivate TV. Nothing breaks the ice like tragic deaths and falling stock markets, am I right?

Happy kisses!