Match.Mom Update

I was pretty excited when I found this website.
Turns out it's only for custom cake-toppers...

My mom hasn't mentioned any potential suitors for me lately, so I was a little worried my new master plan of arranged marriage might be falling through. Because I am pretty sure I might be incapable of meeting anyone on my own. At least in my current city. Since I have a tendency to outsource my romantic attention. Ugh.

Luckily, though, during a morning gchat convo (hooray slow days at work), she mentioned she'd found me a pretty good FH candidate. (FH = Future Husband if you're new to the game. My mom has adopted my inane, abbreviated blog lingo, which is much appreciated.)

Anyway, she sent me a link to his professional website, which includes a picture because he works in real estate. I've never really understood why realtors show off their pictures, but I kind of like it (shocking). I would consider sharing the link here just because it might make this story better, but he's actually incredibly photogenic and I don't want any of you Austinites trying to steal him! (In my selfish defense, we're only approaching the holidays - and Halloween isn't known as a time you're supposed to share with others - so my actions are justified.)

Things I know about him: He's 30, single, and moved to Austin three years ago.

Her description of him included that "he's smooth as silk," which I have no idea what that actually means, but I assume it's something about his work style. HOPEFULLY she didn't mean literally silky smooth, because in the case of full-body waxing, no thank you I'm not interested.

Of course it's extremely doubtful anything will come from this, but always good to Match.Mom is still hard at work.

P dot S: My mom is coming to visit next weekend!!! She hasn't been here in over a year, so I'm so excited for her to see our apartment, etc., you know, if it hasn't burned down yet. Ugh.

Every Girl Ever Has Wedding Fever

Who would want to marry this?

Every girl every is sick. She's got a fever and she needs to get rid of it.

According to Christopher Walken, the only prescription for a fever is more cowbell. Every girl ever loves Christopher Walken. Once every girl ever researched if Christopher Walken had any sons so maybe she could marry one of them. Unfortunately for every girl ever, he has no children. This, of course, did not help every girl ever's condition.

So what is the cause of every girl ever's ailments? CMS: Crazy Marriage Syndrome, CGS' ugly cousin.

It started slow. A few friends here, a random acquaintance there. "They've been dating since high school," every girl ever told herself. "They had to get married, if you know what I mean," she was sure of a time or two.

Now, though, every girl ever feels like each time she checks the mail she gets another Save the Date. Does every girl ever even have this many friends?

But it's the daily Facebook newsfeed announcements that cause her the real problems. "SHE found someone to marry her?!" "I remember when he was too awkward to even talk to girls!"

Every girl ever is stunned. Every girl every is petty. Oh hell, every girl ever is jealous.

Every girl ever can't help but wonder when it will be her turn. What if enters her head with every guy she meets. Approximately two minutes later, every girl ever determines he is in fact not The One. This causes every girl ever to get a little antsy.

Antsy is fine. It keeps every girl ever motivated in her quest. The next level - anxious - is when it starts to get dicey. Because from there, it's a quick hop, skip, and a jump to desperate.

Every girl ever needs to watch herself. Desperate is not a flattering shade. Every girl ever thinks that maybe she can make some small changes in her life to help keep the CMS tsunami at bay.

For starters, she needs to stop going through Facebook wedding albums' of friends of friends she doesn't even know out of some weird curiosity. And she should definitely stop looking at wedding blogs. Or choosing her hypothetical wedding flowers. Perhaps she should take up playing the cowbell. That sounds therapeutic.

In the mean time, every girl ever will make the most of her singledom. Mostly because every girl ever knows that "it happens when you least expect it." Or something, right? Right??

Oh hell, this is not going to be pretty.

The Hunt: Welcome to Preppy Paradise

Is it worth spending a hundred dollars to surround yourself with cute, fratty (as those of us from UT would say) guys in a beautiful fall setting? Um yes!

The Hunt - an annual horse race in Far Hills, New Jersey - is apparently "THE place to go meet someone before the holidays so you'll have someone to date through the winter." No, I'm not even joking, that is what a woman told one of the Texas girls I went with this past weekend.

A-mazing. Sign me up.

The day started early at Penn Station where instead of being surrounded by hundreds of homeless people like I was on my way home to Austin a few weekends ago, preppy blondes and cute guys stretched for as far as the eye could see.

College, is that you?

Now the real Hunt veterans boarded the train with mimosas in hand, but as rookies we were just happy to have coordinated the trip in the first place. (In hindsight, it was a good call to wait to booze - we were not in fact "way behind" - and I have a feeling my aging body would not have handled it well.)

After an almost two hour journey of admiring the fall foliage - OMG the colors are so beautiful - we finally arrived.

Swept up in a sea of riding boots and Ray Bans, we made our way to the field where the race was to take place. Plots, as they're called, are basically little tailgates all neatly lined up and numbered, making the people watching even easier. By people watching, I obviously mean hot guy checking out.

Because our group included my favorite little social butterfly Alexandra, we flitted from group to group to say hi to people. By people, again I'm talking about cute guys.

I'm pretty sure I saw a few horses in between all of this, mind you. And, just in case you're very curious, I did meet one guy. Things I know about him: he is cute and lives within walking distance to my apartment. Does that make him a good candidate for a potential winter boyfriend? I'd say so. You know, if I ever see him again.

All in all it was a wonderful day. Beautiful weather, fun friends, what more could you ask for?


Me and Alexandra in transit! Oh the anticipation!



Bee-you-ti-ful.

I am wearing my new J.crew "swacket." = sweater jacket.
Patented phrase, feel free to adopt.



Please note all the preppy guys in the background. Sigh.



Molly, Emmy, and me documenting our excitement.

Oh look, there are the horses!

Thanks to Alexandra for letting me steal the pics!

Fall, this is why you're my favorite season. New Jersey, you aren't so bad after all.

Um the Building is on Fire

Buzz buzz. Nine a.m. "Everyone needs to evacuate. The building is on fire!"

That was my Sunday morning. Who doesn't love to wake up to that?

Three fire trucks, a flock of firefighters, and a giant ladder were there to greet us. HOLY CRAP. Smoke was billowing out from Otto's Shrunken Head, a (creepy) tiki bar, next door. Yeah, it's a classy 'hood.

All I could think was thank goodness it wasn't my beloved Kennedy's Fried Chicken that was ablaze! (Although, I can imagine that would have smelled amazing.)

We weren't the only ones who had to evacuate. The vet clinic a few doors down had to bring out all of its four-legged residents. Awww.

Luckily The BFF and I had the wherewithal to throw on actual clothes vs. bathrobes and grab our purses so we could at least get something to eat since we were awake and downstairs. By the time we'd finished breakfast at a nearby diner (where, fun fact, I randomly saw Keanu Reeves shooting a movie a few weeks ago), they had the situation under control. Which was good since I enjoy having a home.

You might remember that earlier this spring, our block also caught on fire. We're pretty sure our awesome, new single mojo might have been the cause of that one, but we can't take credit for the most recent incident. Our mutual singledom is no longer a novelty with magical powers.

Anyway, when we were ready to go back upstairs, we realized one small problem. During those few minutes we were scampering around trying to find pants during the fire panic, we both managed to leave our keys inside.

Whoops.

Luckily our across the street, science experiment neighbors have a spare set just for these kinds of emergencies. You know, the ones that involve fires. Since those seem to happen a lot.

Ugh, I've been wanting some more excitement in my life, but this was not what I had in mind.

Guest Post: The BFF's Spooky Halloween Tale

[Ed. note: Beware! More chilling than creepy haunted houses with those guys who jump out with chain saws and more disturbing than obese girls sporting "slutty" costumes, this masterpiece will send a shiver down your spine. Take note, fair reader, this too could be your fate if your number ends up in the hands of a Stage Five Clinging Foreigner! While The BFF gives you a taste of the insanity, it does not even come close to capturing all of the texts, Facebook messages, and VOICEMAILS. Voicemails, oh the horror!]

Twas a late summer Thursday in our fair New York City

When my friend Laurel called to say “Let’s go out and look pretty!”
I put on a dress and looked oh so fine
I was excited to party and sip on free wine.

I entered the W with not a care in the world
After all I was sure we’d be the prettiest girls.
Laughing, chatting, eating and boozing
Is how we became drunk from U.S. Open schmoozing.

Then out of nowhere appeared an older man
With an Australian accent and a golden brown tan.
“My name is HEINZ” he told me ever so sweetly
“Like the ketchup sauce!” I said to myself discretely.

I gave him my number, what harm could it do?
But little did I know that moment I’d rue.
We planned on a date for early that week
Avoiding a second was the goal I'd soon seek.

When he dropped me off home in my head
I already knew that this relationship was dead.
I texted a “Thank you” and hoped that was that
Little did I know one day he’d text me “Alex Let’s chat.”

Minding my business and keeping it real
I continued my life like it was not a big deal
However the texts were coming more and more
Things like “What you up to 2nite?/wkend? Lets meet for a casual drink?”
Oh the horror!

Then he began to get a little deranged
“Whats with the no reply babe? Bit strange.”
I wanted to say chill the eff out dude
But then he came back saying “Wow I didn’t know you were so rude!”

He asked me again “Why would you not reply? Bit weird or sketchy”
Could I tell him a part of it had to do with his bad breath-y?
Time went by I prayed he had moved on
But like so many things I was very wrong.

“Seriously you went M.I.A. Did you get married in Vegas or something”
Go ahead, I thought, and think I accepted a ring!
One week passed and then a second
I was ecstatic to believe Heinz’s love for me had lessened.

My indifference to the situation grew and grew
And then I receive “Friendly dinner or a drink this week Alex? I want to talk to u”
Listen, buddy, it’s been over 2 months
And if you don’t get it by now, I think you are nuts.

I’m sure in the Outback things work differently
But here in the States we know things more quickly.
If we are interested or not we’ll know off the bat
And you are just going to have to get used to that.

-- The BFF

I Can See This Being an Issue

After an embarrassing personal failure involving my total lack of snacking self-control - that bag of trail mix never stood a fair chance - it dawned on me that I might face some problems in the future.

It started at Whole Foods on Sunday when I went to stock up on all the necessities I've run through in the past few months. I was literally down to some ginger root in the freezer. (Not snackable, you might note! That is on purpose!) I decided to treat myself with a little something special to add to my daily salads (made on Sunday for the entire week, the only way I can escape spending $10 a day on lunch) and grabbed a package of dried fruit and nuts.

Just to think I'm healthy, I checked the calorie count. Oh only 120 per servings. No problem. Fifteen servings. Hmm.

Unfortunately Satan himself sat next to me on the bus on the way home from the store. By 'next to me' I mean on my shoulder. Just have a little snack! You just spent two hours at the gym! Shut up evil snack promoter! One of those hours was just lying there in Pilates, you know nothing. Once I start, I can't stop!

Who am I kidding? I didn't fight back. There I was, on the cross-town bus, munching on trail mix like a stupid little squirrel with an unlimited Metrocard.

But obviously it didn't end there. Putting away my groceries: snack, snack, snack. Making my salads: munch, munch, munch. Concocting the most delicious butternut squash soup with The BFF: snack, snack, snack.

It was not pretty. By the time we finally left our apartment to meet up with some friends, that bag was almost gone. You're a bunch of Mathletes, figure out that diet destruction.

I know perfectly well I have a crippling weakness when it comes to the ability to control my caloric consumption. And this was a test of personal strength. I failed.

Clearly I can't allow myself to have snack food in the house. But it dawned on me - what if someday I live with someone who needs snacks?? (The BFF is not a snacker, thank goodness.)

Like what if I trick find someone to marry me?

He better hide that shit, otherwise it won't be pretty. He'll probably need to get some serious hardware. Bear and/or raccoon proof should do the trick. Maybe.

But also keep in mind that I'm really cunning. Some might say, smarter than a bear and/or raccoon. Which I guess is a plus. Unless of course you live with me and want to eat normal food.

This Is Unacceptable

After ten months of apartment bliss, it seems our luck might be running out.

Sure we've had our issues with the building - like for example how our buzzer has never (and seems will never) work, forcing us to run down five flights of stairs to let people in..yeah, it's annoying - but nothing we can't deal with.

And, okay, the fact that someone in the building next door thinks it's totally acceptable to hang a wind chime outside their window - ding. ding. ding! (we haven't heard it in months thanks to the ambient noise of our AC and fans. But don't worry, it's back. Ding!) - isn't what I particularly enjoy.

But now we have a much bigger issue than either of those. Our new neighbors. They're terrible.

Now, you're probably thinking, "Rachel and The BFF sure do have a lot of rage issues at home!" And you're totally right. But this time it's not our fault. It's Josh and Raquel's.

Our building is really small, only two apartments per floor. When we moved in, two girls lived across the hall. Rarely did we see them, but when we did, it was pleasant. Sure they ignored our house warming party invite (their loss), but they were quiet and clean so it was fine.

They moved out a few months ago and were quickly replaced. The first issue with Josh and Raquel (must be said with a bitchy voice and accompanying eye rolling) was that they felt it was totally acceptable to stack up a mound of card board boxes (with their names on them, that's how we knew to channel the hate accordingly) in front of their door.

Small problem. Their door is at the top of the stairs and directly in front of where we have to go to our apartment. This happened multiple times during their first few weeks, typically coinciding with a weekend night where some of us might have been struggling up the aforementioned five flights of stairs in heels while lacking certain motor skills. Not cool.

But that passed. The thing that causes me to curse their names daily - Josh and Raquel! - is the bicycle they have chained to the hallway banister. Because when there is a hallway approximately three fight wide, obviously a bicycle belongs there. Good thing we're not Brandi and Ruby! They might not be able to make it past. (IAAB!! and OMG WE SAW THEM ON SUNDAY!! AHHHH WE CAN'T ESCAPE!!)

Where was I? Oh right, that damn bicycle.

But physical barriers can eventually become less of a burden. Noise and/or smell barriers? Uh uh. Those are two of my favorite senses!

On Friday night, The BFF and I stayed in (because we're grandmas?) and so did Josh and Raquel. But it wasn't just them. Unfortunately it seems that within their apartment, there is some sort of a Frat Boy Vortex, complete with immature hooligans (seriously, "hooligans," am I 100?) who do not know anything about inside voices.

Granted, I get that it was during a baseball playoff game, but good lord screaming at the top of your lungs even during the boring parts (by that I mean 95%, it is baseball after all, hey-ohhh), is unacceptable.

The worst part? It happened again the next day! The Yankees better freakin' lose ASAP for the sake of my eardrums (plus, go Rangers!).

And, oh, don't even get me started on the smell. You know when you get a whiff of something that immediately takes you back to a previous point in your life? Stale beer nostalgia? I've moved on.

Plan G

After being cloked in a veil of indifference, for the first time in a long time, I finally feel something. I have a crush. (By long time, I obviously mean like a day. What can I say, you already know I'm fickle. The Girl Who Cried Soulmate. Whatever.)

But I'm overcome with that butterfly excitement, that hopeless romantic desire, that "I will stalk the crap out of his Facebook pictures" CGS. It's beautiful. In a creepy sort of way.

He's my entire list of what I'm looking for. He's the trifecta of looks, brains, and personality. Tall, witty, and athletic. He is also a phenomenal dancer. (I should also mention that I think I'm a phenomenal dancer in case that affects your opinion of the previous compliment.) And, to top it off, he recently mentioned he wanted to be just like the dad on Modern Family. Oh Phil Dunphy, the one I just blogged about??

Even with all these great qualities, according to my mother, he's not a good future husband candidate because he's not from Texas. (She has a weird elitist Texas issues - mostly related to fears about me potentially not living close by  - that she needs to move past.) However, he might win her over with their newfound Facebook wall post comment banter. I'm not even kidding.

Anyway, there are two small problems standing in between a relationship with me and a guy who has literally professed his desire to marry me. Seriously. (And yes there was drinking involved.)

This past weekend while I was in Austin, we rekindled the friendship started last summer when I visited Denver. G - I'm getting lazy with nicknames again - is a law school buddy of my friend S. We hit it off during the infamous White Pants in the House Tonight night, one of the most epic of all time, where he actually performed a very chivalrious dropping of the trou to fend off weird molestation by creepy dive bar singers. What a guy.

Although we lived far apart, we stayed friends via The Internet, even when I had a boyfriend. (This story may sound familiar. What is my deal?) Which brings us to issue numero uno. He lives a thousand miles away.

What.is.my.problem?

The second debacle is that he is, well, on the verge of having a girlfriend. The DTR talk is imminent. And yet, I like him.

I know, I know. Believe me, I know. Far away with another girl ready to date him? Worst.possible.scenario.

But I can't help how I feel. I have a crush.

At least now I know that my heart is in fact not made of stone. Woo hoo. Silver lining.

Update: This did not end well.

Austin City Limits

Another glorious ACL has come and gone. By all accounts, it was the best weather and festival conditions in its history. That’s because I put in a special request with Mother Nature for the sake of my friend Ashley’s first visit to Austin. Like I’ve said before, I’m a really good hostess.  



As you can see from this sign, we were really
excited for Ashley to come visit.

We got in town Friday morning after waking up early. By early, I mean late at night when some people were just coming home from the bars. At least we had that extra full day in town, but holy crap were we tired.

A few hours after we arrived, our festival festivities started at my friend S’s parent’s house. Living within walking distance to the ACL grounds, they are the ultimate Austin welcoming crew. VIP treatment from them includes Patron shots and matzoh ball soup. Amazing.

Before we made our way to Zilker Park, a few other groups came and went from her house, including a gaggle of UT freshmen girls. During a chat with one of them, she used the phrase, “Yeah, when I turned 18 a few months ago, I felt so old.”

Um what? I put back in my dentures and shed a tear. I would have punched her in the face, but my arthritic hand couldn’t form a fist. Damn you 25. (And yes I know those of you over 25 are rolling your eyes; youth is relative.)



Anyway, where was I? Music festival, right. During the course of the weekend, we saw the Black Keys, Robert Randolph & the Family Band (one of my all-time favorite musicians), part of Phish, a few Strokes' songs, Broken Bells, Local Natives, The xx, The Constellations, Trombone Shorty and the Orleans Avenue (another fave), Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Band of Horses, Norah Jones, and the Eagles.

If you know anything about all the great bands at the festival, you might be like omg why didn't you see [Insert hipster band here]??? A) I'm not that into hipster music. B) As part of my No Stress Fest, I didn't worry about making it by every show just to say I did. Nor did I have to track down every friend who was there. It was lowkey and it was awesome.

Ash, me, S, and her law school buddy

It's so weird I didn't run into more friends. I mean, there were
only like 65,000 people there.

Like I said, perfect weather.

Great weekend.

In addition to ACL, our trip consisted of me giving Ashley a detailed 22-year recap of my life in Austin. Since I'm currently in a Maybe I Love You, Maybe I'm Hungry stage of my life, a lot of the highlights included a high-caloric intake.

Much like Christmas movies, I have a Top Five list of favorite Austin restaurants. Much like the cinematic choices on that holiday entertainment ranking, none of the restaurants are the best quality or award-winning, but in terms of nostalgia, comfort, and all-around likeability, they’ll always have a place in my heart.

On Friday we walked down Barton Springs for a mid-afternoon snack and marg break at Chuy’s. "This was the place where George Bush's daughter, who is now a TV correspondent, got in trouble for a fake ID. "

During the day on Saturday we went to lunch with one of my best college friends – newly married in June – to Matt’s El Rancho. "This is the place where we came for a senior night in college...[which turned out to be one of the funniest nights of my life for reasons that are not bloggable]."


Saturday night we ate at Stubb's. "This is where we had my college graduation party. Then Andy Roddick had his reception here too. I am clearly a trend-setter."

The girls at Stubb's.

Stubb's has been in my life practically since it started. My mom's cousin Eddy used to bring us cases of barbeque sauce and t-shirts when we were young. It's great to see how insanely well-known it's become. It's also awesome that Eddy hooked me and Ashley up with tickets that night to see the Black Keys after show. BBQ and live music, has there ever been a better combination??

After the show I took Ashley to 6th Street, the place of many long-lost college memories. It was a legendary night, including dancing to Shout at 311 with a group of guys who had just left the wedding of a former crush. Oh small town Austin. Gah.

Two Jimmy John’s sandwiches and a stolen cab later (what can I say, we're aggressive New Yorkers?!), we called it a night. Well, technically after a few more hours at S's house - you know the party don't stop till 4 in the mornin...



The only history she learned from the Texas State
History Museum was about my friend's wedding
that took place there. I figured that was sufficient

Sunday we went on a boat ride on Lake Austin, stopping at The County Line for lunch with my family. Yes, if you're keeping track, that was two back-to-back bbq meals. This is the big leagues, try and keep up.

On Monday my mom and I took Ashley on a tour of U.T., including a stop at my former sorority residence, otherwise known as the best place I will ever live (although seeing the lunch buffet set up for the girls - including homemade cheesecake - made remember I had zero self-control there..probably for the best to be away from that temptation).

After three and a half days of non-stop The Life of Rachel Tour, Ashley has assured me she has plenty of material to write my biography. It will obviously be a best seller. Among my family members.

She is also now well-versed in the awesomeness of Austin. The funniest part was after driving her by the Whole Food's headquarters for a second time, my mom joked that she was thinking, "It's just another freakin' city! Get over it!"

But it's a city we love. And it was a great trip. Thanks to my parents (and S's parents!!) for everything! Love yall.



What starts here changes the world.



Where Am I?

I'm back home. In New York. But I was just home. In Texas. Life is confusing. Where am I supposed to be? When is all this post-quarter-life crisis clarity supposed to sink in? About the time my mid-life crisis hits? Fantastic.

Either way I assume I'm probably not going to figure it out the morning after getting back from a whirlwind trip, the ending of which was spent circling La Guardia airport in the middle of a hail storm, but that's just a thought.

Is it naptime yet?

Will fill you in on the ACL glory tomorrow...

Ghosts of Psycho Roommates Past

I wish I could call Bill Murray to get rid of my
ghost run-in problem!

Seeing J = weird. And hearing from LA Jim = awkward.

Running into the former Psychoface Roommates = beyond terrible.

Recently The BFF and I have had two very close encounters with our least favorite people in the city. In case you missed it the first time, here's the Psychoface Former Roommate back story.

The time living with them was hell. Pure, unbridled, full-of-rage hell. Just thinking about it makes me physically shudder.

When we moved out, it was not on good terms. By that point, I no longer cared. I just wanted to be gone. The final straw was getting rid of the living room furniture that I'd bought when we first moved in two years earlier.

All of it was very much "I bought this from my neighbor for cheap" quality. I offered to sell it to them, but they refused so I put an ad on Craigslist. I got rid of some of it (although they did their best to sabotage that as well), and Ruby demanded I get rid of the rest on specific days so I wouldn't get ticketed for non-trash pickup. Oh you mean because she would tattle on me? That's right.

Anyway, I followed her request and forced J help me lug the heavy loveseat down the stairs and outside. Not anything I would do for recreation, I promise.

Then the next day, according to Facebook documentation, The BFF and I realized they had carried it back up stairs!! Instead of just telling me it was fine to leave it there. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh rage blackout.

So anyway, needless to say we never wanted to see them again. And so far so good.

Until about a month ago, when Ruby walked directly in front of my office's street level glass doors.

OMG!!!

I paused like how you're supposed to if you see a T-Rex (because as we all know from Jurassic Park, one of the greatest movies ever made, that they can't see you if you don't move!).

Luckily I'm a quick thinker. I realized based on my office's location that Ruby was probably heading to the downtown 4/5/6 platform at Grand Central. Not enough space to ensure I wouldn't run into her so I walked all the way home just to be safe. Another thing you should probably do if you encounter a T-Rex - modify your escape route, it's worth it.

Since that scare, I knew it was only a matter of time before something else happened. Last Friday to be exact when The BFF came face-to-face with Brandi at Trader Joes. They did not speak, but it was still painful. Her bitchery ascends verbal communication.

In case your October is just flying by like mine, I'll remind you that Halloween is in a few weeks. And apparently this city is full of ghosts. Spooky.

Taking CGS to a Whole New Level

I mean, who of us hasn't partaken in random acts of Crazy Girl Syndrome (CGS) every once in awhile? Maybe you kept texting him a week or month too long... Maybe you tried to befriend his friends in order to infiltrate his group... Maybe you looked through his sister's entire 50-picture Facebook photo album from his family's trip to Mexico with his new fiance, mentally noting how you went on the same trip the summer after sophomore year of college.

I mean, totally hypothetical examples here.

Anyway, the point is, we've all been there. But there is a line between somewhat acceptable and insane.

Calling in a bomb threat to stop your ex from flying to his wedding? That breaks the psycho meter.

It's Just Like Serendipity

So the other day when I blogged about that Columbia happy hour I lied. Big shock. If you're new to the blog, here's a recap: I sometimes lie and I'm super fickle when it comes to soulmates!

Here's a combo meal of these two scenarios:

I actually did meet a guy who was probably my soulmate at this happy hour. I just didn't feel like tarnishing the glory of my potential double wedding post. But at this point I'm pretty sure that might not be happening based on my total awkwardness with The BFF's twin. Apparently I was being "really entertaining." I'm pretty sure guys don't want to fix up their gorgeous mirror images with a girl who is "really entertaining." Sigh.

So now I feel like I should tell you about the cutest guy ever who was probably my soulmate but now I'll never know. (I'll find a shorter nickname somewhere along the way.)

I saw him at the party while we were talking to a guy who had a girlfriend but you would not have assumed that based on his actions. He was playing wingman for us, introducing us to his friends. I spotted My Soulmate across the patio. Tall, adorably curly hair, great smile. Swoon. Before we could make our way to where he was, he disappeared. Oh well.

I saw him walk by us a little while later, yanked Girlfriend Guy, and made a comment about him.

And that's when he utilized the great intro line: "Have you met So and So?" In How I Met Your Mother, Barney does the "Have you met Ted?" routine smashingly.

My Soumate introduced himself but quickly rushed off. Oh well.

But then - dun dun dunnnn! - he returned. "Sorry, Rachel, I had to find my friend."

Me and My Soulmate's movie poster
would be even better than this.

He came back for me! And he knew my name! Marriage here we come!

We ended up talking for maybe half an hour. (That guestimate is totally arbitrary because you have no real concept of time when you're falling in love, obv.) Turns out he was actually a lawyer, whose friend had been bugging him to come to one of these happy hours.

Anyway, short story, he was great. Like really easy to talk to, so super cute, great. Even The BFF sensed a spark between us. Swoon.

After awhile he went to go find his friend and we talked about meeting up at the afterparty. No digits were exchanged. Oh well.

And then we never saw him again.

The sad, "I refuse to believe He's Just Not That Me" part wonders if he's devastated that he missed his chance with me. Tha'ts probably accurate...

I've told this story to The BFF, my mom, and my grandma Dolo. All three said the same thing, "Serendipity." Otherwise known as one of my all-time favorite romantic comedies.

First, I just really love John Cusack. Second, I love John Corbitt aka Lars the Kenny G-copying gem of a character. Third, I love the way New York is shot in that movie. And fourth, that movie gives you hope that you might have that initial spark strong enough with a person that you end up getting a second chance to see where things go.

Cross your fingers that is my destiny. Well, for this week at least, I need some entertainment to spice things up. And let's hope I'm not supposed to be stopping at every used book store looking for his name and phone number written on the inside cover of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel.

Because that seems like it would be a huge pain in the ass.

There is Still Hope!

The BFF and I had a fun little Thursday night. We had promised a friend (actually, The Russian's roommate) that we would attend his Columbia B-school's club happy hour. The theme was "Is it fashionable, Euro, or gay" because those were the three clubs hosting it.

He insisted we look quite fashionable (his club), so the two of us got all dolled up and made the trek to the Upper West Side, not a frequent occurrence for little east village-homebodies like ourselves.

In my head it was very Gossip Girl. Just like Blair and Serena, we were ready to dominate this new school.

Of course, when we got there, we saw that we're way over dressed and it turned into more of our typical Romy and Michele awkardness.

Before we had left, The BFF suggested that perhaps we might meet our future husbands on this B-school social outing but I reminded her of the clubs involved. Seemed highly unlikely.

One guy (who apparently had a girlfriend, according to the background on his iphone...what kind of proof is that, creepster?) took us under his wing and introduced us to plenty of guys (none of whom were our soulmates, shocking).

It didn't matter, though, because we all went to the after party where The BFF's aforementioned younger boytoy came to meet us. Having not seen him since the Facebook Relationship Double Wedding Spoiling Incident of Last Week, we were both reminded of how cute and nice he was (well I was reminded that his twin brother was probably that cute and nice too, we must not let this dream die!).

If these women can find love, I mean, come on, there has
to be hope for us too, right?

I decided it was time to put on my Rachel Detective Hat and get to the bottom of the sitch. While The BFF was in the bathroom, I casually asked, "So what's up with your relationship status on Facebook?"

At first he had no idea what I was talking about. Then it clicked. He had dated some girl a few months ago who suggested they be in a relationship in that oh-so-official-our-names-link-together kind of way. But once they broke it off, she cancelled it from her end, leaving him with just the "in a relationship" status. Since he works 23 hours per day with FB blocked, he didn't realize it.

After we came to this conclusion, he looked at me and asked, "But why hasn't anyone - why didn't The BFF - tell me this?!"

It was like he'd been walking around all day with his fly unzipped and I was finally the one to break the news. Sorry, dude, at least you know now. 

We will make beautiful bride(zillas).

So there you have it. He's single and still a twin. I mean, we have the minor detail of his brother probably not being interested in me, but whatever! I've overcome bigger obstacles in life! There is still a chance!!

Save the Date: Double Wedding Summer Solstice 2012 (The BFF has made it very clear to me that this is her new ideal wedding date - when the longest day of the year falls on a Saturday - so another thing is already checked off the to-do list, how efficient.)