some girls carry mace, but I think I may start carrying silly string.

Futuristic Babies

Sometimes I talk to my friends about what we’re going to do with our future babies.  Which is weird habit because I have no boyfriend and no prospects at the mo’, and perhaps more importantly have zip zero ability to raise a child right now.  That doesn’t mean this isn’t an entertaining exercise, because who wouldn’t want to dress up two babies as a Hamburger and the Hamburglar and watch them chase each other?  Especially if the Burger Baby goes after the Hamburglar…..oh the irony!

"baby lobster meat is very tender"

His face says it all.  

Sweet costume, bro

I grew up in a suburb, and one Halloween our doorbell rang and we opened the door expecting to see trickortreater—but what was in front of our open door—was another door! Like, a full-on wooden door, that had a sign that said “Please knock.” So we did, and the door swung open to reveal a bunch of college dudes dressed as really old grandmothers, curlers in their hair, etc, who proceeded to coo over our “costumes” and tell us we were “such cute trick or treaters!” One even pinched my cheek. Then THEY gave US candy, closed their door, picked it up and walked to the next house.

Avoidance

"get away from me"

I was sitting on the train today listening to my ipod and making a list of things that make me uncomfortable when a small Asian man wearing stone-washed pants with an elasticized waist chose to sit down next to me, in a nearly empty car. This happens to me a lot, not necessarily that particular model of weirdo, but something about me appears to be so compelling that people (often those with questionable hygiene) choose to sit next to me in public settings. I have a tactic I’ve developed in response to these repeated attempts, which is actually not a tactic but a course of action. I play rap music on my ipod really loudly, and rap along until the perpetrator leaves. Today I chose Petey Pablo, often it’s Lil’ Kim. I am proud to boast that this strategy has about a 65 percent success rate.

Now, I have a limited amount of friends, and I’m pretty sure none of them like me. That and my lack of any intellectually, economically, or artistically viable pursuits leave me with an incredible amount of free time. Often I go on long walks where I spend the duration of my time reliving childhood humiliations or thinking about possible life pursuits that I don’t feel I’ve already sabotaged (i.e. becoming an R&B video girl). Usually the bonus is that I get to play with lots of dogs, dogs (not unlike people on public transit) really like me, which I find disconcerting. I mean it must be my scent, and dogs also like the scent of other dog’s excrement, and people’s crotches. Anyhow, recently this dog ran up to me and started playing with me, I looked up to see his 50+ punk rock owner and jokingly said “Are you training your dog to pick up girls for you?” He looked offended at what he considered to be a sincere suggestion and responded that he was already married. My response was to be offended that he was incapable of discerning what was obviously a joke and I replied “Whatever, i like bigger dogs anyway.” This also didn’t amuse him. I’m a constant failure.

Crushes. Part Deux.

You so sexy.

Lovely post my raven haired friend, it definitely got me in a crushing frame of mind. For example, my upstairs neighbor has been playing Beatles songs on the sax all evening, and while I have no idea if he’s cute, or perhaps more importantly if he is actually a “he” and not a “she”, I know that I love him. I also have a crush on one of the employees at the Park Slope Co-op, tonight he got me a box cutter and I almost swooned from the romance of it all. But perhaps the most important lesson of my crushes , is that it’s the nervous uncertainty that I like.

Historically, I tend to err more on the side of nervous uncertainty, playing it so safe that I often don’t even introduce myself or talk to my object of affection. Thus dwelling in the painful land of unrequited (or more accurately entirely unknown) love. This summer, however, I have been experimenting….

Lesson One: Airing out all your crazy and then having sex with someone, is often exciting – but not a recommended manner in which to keep the attention of ones’ crush. Because after the exciting part fades, the cray-cray remains. Bad plan.

Lesson Two: Having a crush on a group of guys is NOT the same as having a crush on one fellow in particular. I cannot stress this enough, a charismatic group does not always make for charismatic individuals. In this situation, just mildly crush on everyone. Do not commit!  And then, after you convince them all to have a crush on you, you get the pick of the litter! (Time-willing – sometimes this plan takes years)

Lesson Three: After a rejection, it is easy to think that you would like to date someone who could just be “honest” about their feelings for you. Someone who liked you, and wasn’t afraid to show it. You are wrong. It is stressful in the exact opposite way a crush is stressful – tedious and burdensome. Bummer.

Conclusion: Play it cool. Look at Cool Hand Luke, he is as sexy as they come and is so cool his nickname includes the word.  Although with my track record, I’d probably try to screw him on the first date and wiff that ball too….

Crushes.

I love and hate having crushes. Flashbacks arise to one of my earlier crushes, lets call him, I don’t know, Rob. Actually his name was Rob. Later on I found out that his middle name was Thomas and couldn’t stop making jokes about it, further alienating him. He had a hearing aid and his eyes were set sort of like a hammerhead shark’s, I could have loved him. After a series of failed attempts at initiating, I somehow through a stuttering phone call asked him if he’d like to get a drink. Shockingly, he agreed. I was nervous and reticent with my conversation at a nearby bar.

He attempted to engage in conversation:
“On the count of ten tell me the most embarrassing thing about yourself you can think of.”
I replied with exactly the worst response that could be ushered forth from my mouth:
“I had a UTI last year.”
Immediately I cringed, I’m not sure that I had even had one. You see, I have this nearly demonic voice that makes me say the worst thing possible during situations where I have my personal dignity laid out on the line. Dates and interviews tend to bring this voice out, it was responsible for me spouting out an anecdote related to my urinary tract. It has also been responsible for me being yelled at for trying to touch the artwork in museums. He replied with his most embarrassing moment after a moment’s hesitation.
“I used to be a dj on college radio”
Needless to say I never spoke with him again. I would not be surprised to find out that he has a restraining order against me.

Oh Boys…..

I am pretty certain I have never met any fellow my age that did not fit the following profile.

Hell my own brother utilized a sleeping bag for much of his childhood and teenage years. I gave him shit for it all the time, and the kid just Did. Not. Care. I’m not even certain I can say he’s grown out of that, I mean he still does it when he comes home. Are there really girls out there okay with sleeping in a sleeping bag instead of sheets? He has a girlfriend…….and she’s older……

How I’m going to Respond to Cat Calls

Hollerin’

I’ve noticed a new type of catcall recently. In the past, I’ve experienced these types:

- kissing noises like they’re calling a cat

- saying things like “you beautiful” or “god bless you”

and now it seems that people think they can get my attention by asking for favors. For example, I was walking down the street with a coke in my hand, and someone yelled to me “can I get a sip?”. Or if I’m eating something, someone will ask for a bite. Or if I’m riding my bike, someone will ask if they can ride it. For the most part, I ignore them and pretend I didn’t hear, but what in the world are they thinking? I want to talk to somebody who is so broke they can’t afford their own coke?