Somewhere between a 4 and a 10 on the Girly Gurl Spectrum

Last summer my dear friend Emily and I had a debate over who was more of a girly girl. We threw--terribly, because girls can't throw--"insults" back and forth until she said, "Look at your gold lame ballet flats. You win." I dropped the ball, ate a few orange slices, but instead of doing some sort of victory dance, felt instead defeated. I didn't want to be the winner. I spent four years of all girls high school probably being quite girly, but never thinking of myself as a girly girl because there were probably about 20, maybe even 30, girls girlier than I in my class of 48. Granted then, my uniform when not in uniform consisted of dirty Converse and unbelievably soft, but not form-flattering, or revealing, in the least vintage sweatshirts I bought on dirty Haight Street.

I definitely have a more feminine look now. I see that, however, as a sign of maturity and being put together. Or despite the stereotypes, a sluttiness that didn't hit me until after all-girls high school. I do love gold ballet flats, dresses, and according to my friend Alissa "love to showcase my cleave." I also paint my nails frequently, own a fair amount of rom coms (though I am proud to say there isn't a single Julia Roberts flick on my shelves) and I hate spiders. But for some reason, deep down I have never thought of myself as a girly girl. Maybe it's because I am messy. Or because I like beer. And make lots of jokes. And swear kind of a lot. And sit like a boy sometimes. And like politics. And some sports. And camping. My favorite color is royal blue. I love beer actually. I can go to bed with dirty feet. I hate the song "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" and the movie "Pretty Woman." And "My Best Friend's Wedding." This list could go on and on. Emily heard it all.

Today, however, within the course of just a few hours, it really hit me: I am a girly girl. Here's the train of events: I struggled to carry my laundry basket down my stairs. My laundry basket is bright pink. I packed an US Weekly to take to the laundromat. I spent the whole hour doing laundry on the phone with my BFF. I only got off the phone with her because I ran into Jocelyn and her puppy and had to flip out over her cuteness even though we've spent the last three days together (the pupster, not Joce, though she's pretty damn cute, too). When Joce asked what I was doing tonight, I responded, "Going to my coworker's to drink wine and watch 27 Dresses." I came home with my laundry basket. Had another long phone conversation while I made myself a salad for dinner. I put on sweats and UGGS (I know, this is getting embarassing) and walked to my coworkers to watch the movie, talking only to comment on Marsden's dreaminess and Heigl's adorable skirts. I limited myself to a glass and a half of wine.

But, now I'm home, UGGS off, and thinking about channel surfing and having a beer instead of folding my laundry.

So, middle of the road?

5?
6?
7?
8?

If I say I have BO from this heat, I won't make it to 9 right? Because a girlier girl than I once said "Girls don't sweat, they glisten."

OK fine, I can't contain myself: 3 days until the Sex and the City movie opens!!

Shit, I guess I do lose.

I love this town. And dogs. And sandwiches.

Not feeling my narrative tonight. Some bulleted weekend highlights and woofs:

+ Eda, Jocelyn's dog, is my new BFF. We spent 3 hours together today. More to come tomorrow.
+ Veggie sandwiches. I'm over turkey. Veggies and hummus or veggies and chevre. Putnam or Bread Basket. Hit em both this weekend.
+ Cooking for #1 Food Snob friend for the first time ever and getting high marks.
+ Going to the Adelphi's garden bar with #1. A little paradise right out of Gatsby.
+ Freckles and tanning... though I know this should be a woof.
+ I'm rediscovering gin and have found my summer drink: Hendrick's and T. Good at Max's because they put cukes in my drink. On a piece of dried bamboo shoot!
+ Bob Carlton.
+ Gutsy sunbathing in Congress Park with Kaja.
+ 4 hours at the Local with #1 and BC.
+ Meeting a nice new neighbor.
+ Widespread smell of sunscreen.
+ Honest Tea.
+ And the obvious: 3-day weekends.

- Why is everyone preggers? It's kind of disturbing me.
- Slow walkers.
- DA's this weekend.
- The town of Day. And inbreds.
- Servers at the Local. Also inbreds.

Sex in the Saratoga

Just Kidding. I am not trying to be the next Carrie Bradshaw as much as I like my sex...and my puns. But, I do have some questions and observations on singlehood. One time only theme for a post. I swear. But if you do draw parallels between me and someone, please make it Carrie and not Cathy. Ah. Yikes. Never. No Way.

A friend once told me I am not ready for a committed relationship because even though I liked a song on say 102.7, I couldn't just stick with it and still checked about 5 other stations. I wanted to tell her that was BS and that sometimes a girl just wants to hear Fergie more than "the real alternative," (and you know what Fergie, sometimes big girls do cry) but I said "Hmmm, that's interesting" and blew her comment off. But now I can't avoid this thought everytime I switch from a true gem on alma mater WSPN in hopes of hearing, dare I say, Avril? The friend was a Psych major in school, so part of me takes this observation to heart. Another part says, that's ridiculous and it's absolutely okay that sometimes I just want the perfect top 40 song... I guess if it were "perfect," it would probably be the top 1. Thoughts?

Has cooking salmon the lady behind the counter said was "a perfect filet for one" depressed me because she said that or because I listened to Cat Power while cooking it? I can't really get to the origin of this. Maybe I'll find it at the bottom of this bottle of wine. And if not there, the bottom of a Ben & Jerry's pint.

(OK, there's no ice cream...nor wine... just tea and cold medicine...if that's any better... but I actually have a cold!)

And reminder, I have no cats. Will never have cats.

I don't want to be 40 and have bitches like me being bitches to me

I feel bad about something I said today. It wasn't that bad and my dear darling coworker is over it, but I feel a little guilty.

She had a bad day at work yesterday. She went home, had dinner with her daughter, and then "had to have a Mike's Hard Lemonade."

I said "Way to kick back!" in a pretty bratty tone. Not everyone can go to karaoke til the wee hours of a Tuesday night and still fake freshness...

She told me I made her feel old.

But, I'm pretty sure we are okay now because we ate lunch in the park together and talked about hickeys.

To be young again!

For the Record

I discovered "Paper Planes" by MIA.
And now Judd Apatow is using the song in the Pineapple Express trailer, and it works really quite well.
BUT...
I started the revolution.
Ask Chloe.
It's true.
And now Apatow is going to get all of the credit.
I guess this is how Marx felt.



OK, I am over it. He's too great. I can't stay mad at him.

I don't know what to do about this cat.

Once in September, I had just moved into my apartment and was talking to my friend Dan online one evening about how much I liked living alone. He said, "Good, just don't get cats." I said something derogatory about cats (probably "woof" because that's what I say, and it's funny because I was inevitably going to tell him next how I am a "dog person"). I then went outside to take out the trash or something. When I came back inside, there was a cat sitting in my desk chair looking at my computer, saying "Hey Dan, I am heeeeeere." I freaked out and chased it out and told Dan what had happened and I don't think he believed me.*

*The cat didn't actually talk, but I was freaked out nonetheless.

I didn't see this cat for a long time until maybe a week ago when it tried to sneak in again. Tonight I came home from a movie, and there he was sitting on my porch/stoop/landing. I don't know why he doesn't get I don't want him in my life. I want a dog right now. But no, all I have is this little feline asshole throwing himself at me. Why can't I just come home and find a nice and smart retriever waiting for me? Even a very manly pug would do.

Perhaps I am overthinking this cat's presence. Seeing it as some sort of sign and making this weird metaphor. I am not into bestiality.

Halloween In May... How White!

Over a month ago, my friends Ally and Kara began talking about having a Halloween in May party because Halloween is just too great to only have once a year. They weren't actually going to have a party party, just a go downtown in costumes party, so I offered to host a pre-downtown event. I was planning all day yesterday to recycle my Halloween, October 31, 2007 costume, but the idea was boring me... and had I done that, I probably wouldn't have been allowed in D'Andrea's (Can we joke about this now?) and good thing because D'Andrea's BBQ chicken pizza became an important part of the end of the night.

So I let the brainstorming begin by looking through my closet. I was a little stunned by how much North Face, EMS, etc gear I have and decided I would just be "that girl"... or this boy we know with long hair who kinda dresses that way, too. Then I hopped on this grand Old Internet and had a better idea. I will be "www.stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com." I used many of THEIR IDEAS as well as my own contributions.

(Mid-Post Disclaimer: This is a totally self-indulgent post about how awesome and funny I am. If you are already bored or turned off, don't continue. It only gets worse.)

So, after getting my COFFEE and going to FARMER'S MARKET, I cleaned my apartment and got ready for this THEME PARTY. I then went and bought the BROOKLYN BREWERY PARTY PACK (2 points: BROOKLYN and MICROBREWERIES... unless BB is a macrobrewery?). After showering, I put on my jeans, an AMERICAN APPAREL T-SHIRT, an EMS VEST (2 points: OUTDOOR WEAR and BODY TEMPERATURE ISSUES), a SCARF (the kind that reflects my smarts and interest in politics... Also, 1.5 points since I was wearing a scarf and a t-shirt and that goes back to the BODY TEMPERATURE ISSUES issue), my NEW BALANCE SNEAKS, my sunglasses on my head. I then packed my TIMBUK2 MESSENGER BAG with: Dave Egger's What is the What (hardcover, obviously...I rushed to the store for that one), the WES ANDERSON FILM Darjeeling Limited, the MICHEL GONDRY film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, JUNO, ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT DVDS, a SAN FRANCISCO Giants baseball cap, a snow globe from when I STUDIED ABROAD, a little ECO-FRIENDLY tote I had taken to FARMER'S MARKET, and my NALGENE, hooked onto the bag with a carabeener, obviously.

You may think my posting this is just a regurgitation of someone else's blog, but really, it was a great costume and I really "got into character." When my friend Bob arrived at the party, too cool for a costume, I adopted him as an accessory: FRIEND OF DIFFERENT ETHNIC BACKGROUND. Also, I told everyone downtown that he is GAY.

We white zombies and lobsters and rock stars all had a good time and sat around listening to this mix of music I thought white people would like. It was pretty INDIE, but I threw in some OLD SCHOOL HIP HOP and country gems.

Things this white person doesn't like: Post Party Cleaning.