Inspirational Poem!

December 5, 2009

This is a little weird, I admit, I wrote this to myself because I was feeling glum.  But I thought it might make someone else feel a little better too…..?  So I posted it, it is cheezy.  Mmmmmmm.

its okay

that job just didn’t come naturally

there is a place where it will come naturally

you just have to find it

and once you find it

you will apply to it

because if it’s right, you will get it


just because you get it

doesn’t mean it will be right

so apply

keep the ball in your court

the ball is always in your court

and get the job you dream of

the rest will work itself out

everything will work out

even if it isn’t conventional

it will work out

if you keep working

you will eventually get what you want


and work

will get you to your happiness

and maybe a little medicine will line the path….

but who’s judging?


Futuristic Babies

October 29, 2009

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!

Crushes. Part Deux.

October 14, 2009

You so sexy.

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….

Oh Boys…..

October 7, 2009

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……

Ramble On

September 30, 2009

I can’t speak for all lady folk, but one of the most amusing, but also rare, side effects of my get out of an abortion free pass is the compulsion to clean. (Aside…I just googled this, it turns out this is one of two things: A) an unidentified trend that other women secretly experience but has not yet been the focus of a scientific study or B) a load of horse-shit that I just made up to explain my fitful and erratic cleaning habits, because Google aint got shit to say about this idea).

So anyway, tonight it was the bathroom- the undercleaned, overused bathroom. I hate cleaning the bathroom. It is absolute lowest on my totem pole of cleaning. (If I had photoshop I would totally appropriate another culture’s thunder and doodle an awesome totem pole with bathroom on the bottom, bedroom in the middle, and kitchen on top). I love cleaning kitchens! They are so wipe-able, and have minimal contact with naked bits – unless you like to do it in the kitchen, in which case I would put cleaning your kitchen at the bottom of my totem pole -ZING!.

Anyhoodle, as I was scrubbing my toilet, I realized that cleaning is the pooping of life – unattractive and awkward as hell. Anytime I get nervous around someone I just imagine them pooing and I internally giggle, sometimes externally if I’m particularly amusing to myself that day. Needless to say, I am very excited to add cleaning the toilet to that exercise. Sure, some people probably hire someone else to do this chore, particularly the prissy girls on the subway in their Tory Burch shoes, and leggings, and ironed “tunics” carrying their Louis Vuitton bags, but in my head that reality may as well not exist. And Miss Priss can be on her knees, elbow deep in a toilet, Cinderella-ing her heart out all the live long day if I want her to, and frankly – I want her to.

Which is all to say, that sometime, in the near future, I expect to bleed from my vagina. Story of my non-pregnant life.

The End.

Boys Cook for Me

September 28, 2009

This is officially the fourth dude in as many dudes that has cooked for me either pre or post hook-up.  And this guy went the extra mile and actually brought food to my house and cooked it.  Is this some sort of trend? Chivalry? Romance? Or is it that I have somehow managed to flip the script?  The way to my heart is through my stomach, and I need a good man to cook and maybe even clean (fingers crossed!) for me.  I don’t know.  And maybe I don’t care?

September 27, 2009

First off.  I am hesitant to post only because I want to stare at that fat little man walking in place

Secondly, maybe you aren’t cursed so much as drawn to fertile and irresponsible young women.  What about THAT?  Plus, I don’t even think I would take full responsibility if someone else’s sperm got into one of MY eggs (although if it were my sperm….. nevermind), much less if it got into another lady’s egg – even if I shared a living space with her and her eggs.  Those sperm are tricky, and they are out to GET you.  They are like mosquito’s – hunting en masse for a live one, and it’ll take a mighty thick mosquito net to keep them where they belong – dead in a condom.  I think I’m mixing metaphors here, but you see where I’m going, I feel like your curse is akin to having friends who wander around in the woodland areas at night in minimal clothing without bug spray or those funny safari hats they wear in malarial areas who are then surprised when they discover that they are covered in bug bites.  To which I say to them and your roommates – dude, I could have told you that would happen.  Mosquitos and sperm, they are persistent.