The Place Where I Work: How You Like Me Now?!
Why did I let you fool me MONDAY? With your free Starbucks and B’s discovery of the Jersey Shore name creator-mine is The Paris Hilton of Trenton. Friggin’ fantastic. Still, I think B and House of Pain beat me with, The Appointment and The Backend-respectively. *sigh*
Anyways, Monday started out so lovely and then progressively brought me to the point where I ended every sentence (in my head) with: …and I hope you choke on a dick.
I think this all started with me feeling especially cheerful and saying a: Goooooood Morning!! To Drake, who didn’t even look at me and just waved at B. Nice. Then I was just aggravated with work related things…that involved people. THEN someone had to go and eat an orange in my vicinity causing me to itch, and my throat is doing something weird where I now sound like I’ve smoked 20 packs a day. Thankfully the person was far enough away where my throat didn’t close up and I don’t need to break out the epi-pen.
Also, I sound sexier which is a plus. Not that this will help me in wrangling any boys to my yard as proven throughout most of my weekend.- Before I get into that though, can I mention how hilarious Blair is. She compared her ‘love’ for a coworker who doesn’t know she exists to Twilight and I explained to her my Edward Cullen moment…and we giggled and we laughed. Without getting into specifics, my Cullen moment involved guitar riffs and wide (as my lil Korean eyes will go) eyed crazed stares…kinda like when Edward wanted to bite the shit out of Bella, and no I didn’t want to bite someone…I wanted them to bite me, in a nice way.:) The moment was intense and hilarious-and this can also be added to the list I am making as to why I am sexy, but uh…not sexxxy. Awww.
My weekend was pleasant enough, which added to my early cheerful Monday demeanor. Did less drinking and more awkward socializing. Anything social with me is usually awkward, but mostly entertaining.
Have decided-which doesn’t mean I will- to compose a list for myself to look at whenever I shake my fists towards the sky and am like: am I really that repulsive??!!!
The list won’t say yes, but it will shed some light on why I am sexy beast to MYSELF only…and not quite understood by the opposite sex.
Winter also doesn’t help because, like a bear, I like to hibernate. I have to force myself to go anywhere outside of work- luckily winter just started last week so I haven’t been much of a recluse. Friday night it was a mix of being cold, sleepy and clueless. While I waited for peeps at a wine bar, I got hit on TWICE and didn’t notice either time. The dudes had to tell me and then there was an awkward silence. I was definitely flattered and would’ve been interested if I hadn’t allotted myself only a certain amount of energy to be social with my peeps. Anything else was one word responses and grunts.
So, that gets filed under: letting cock ops pass me by.
Saturday I had STRONG intentions on leaving my house, but there was heat and there were movies. I mean I deep conditioned the hair n’ filed the nails…picked out an outfit…contemplated where to go…and then I found myself watching New Jack City- and that was all she wrote.
This gets filed under: never leaving house.
Because I am complex, I decide its okay to leave my house on Sunday during torrential downpours. Even though I chose not to straighten my hair, if it even hears the word rain, it does CRAZY things like go wavy, curly and STRAIGHT. It’s amazing really. In the end it looks like I have one of Diana Ross’s wigs that have been sweated out via performances and sex with European princes.
To top off my AMAZING do, I have these moments where the 15 year old frat boy that I bury deep within explodes out. Haven’t figured out what causes it, but it happens and it embarrasses me to no end. Picture me standing in a classy hotel lounge. Having easy going chats that turn to witty banter, which I can usually keep up with- no no, not this time. This time I decide in a slightly empty hotel lounge (because my voice echoed) to invite with hand motions pointing towards my crotch and by saying: there’s enough for everyone …
…to two of my dude peeps, one of which looks at me, and because of an earlier convo, says: I understand now.
Meaning he didn’t understand before why most guys don’t like me back, but he got it just then. I shrugged and held my face in my hands.
This gets filed under: not having better hair strategery and not killing the 15 yr old frat boy within.
Of course today my hair is fabu! All full n’ wavy. Looks like I care about myself. That’s one good thing about today-OH another is my restraint. Restraint from chocking a bitch…REALLY. CloseUp has her moments when I think she’s cool and others when I to kick her shins. The other night we were taking the train together and she turns to me and asks (seriously): Have you heard of Lady Gaga?
I stare at her silently, then very bitchily respond: um, yeah. Who hasn’t??
She says she just learned about her from gay best friend the other day. I tell her he wasn’t being a very good gay because Gaga has been out for a while. CloseUp then says that she wants me to hear this one song by her and proceeds to coyly take out her Discman…which again makes me *heart* her. We then discuss how my dad had to force an iPod upon me because I was content making mixtapes and using my Sony Sport (because I drop shit) walkman.
So, CloseUp was on the good foot, until everyday since she has asked me if I have heard of Lady Gaga which has me believing B when she says that she may be semi-retarded.
Anyways, Monday started out so lovely and then progressively brought me to the point where I ended every sentence (in my head) with: …and I hope you choke on a dick.
I think this all started with me feeling especially cheerful and saying a: Goooooood Morning!! To Drake, who didn’t even look at me and just waved at B. Nice. Then I was just aggravated with work related things…that involved people. THEN someone had to go and eat an orange in my vicinity causing me to itch, and my throat is doing something weird where I now sound like I’ve smoked 20 packs a day. Thankfully the person was far enough away where my throat didn’t close up and I don’t need to break out the epi-pen.
Also, I sound sexier which is a plus. Not that this will help me in wrangling any boys to my yard as proven throughout most of my weekend.- Before I get into that though, can I mention how hilarious Blair is. She compared her ‘love’ for a coworker who doesn’t know she exists to Twilight and I explained to her my Edward Cullen moment…and we giggled and we laughed. Without getting into specifics, my Cullen moment involved guitar riffs and wide (as my lil Korean eyes will go) eyed crazed stares…kinda like when Edward wanted to bite the shit out of Bella, and no I didn’t want to bite someone…I wanted them to bite me, in a nice way.:) The moment was intense and hilarious-and this can also be added to the list I am making as to why I am sexy, but uh…not sexxxy. Awww.
My weekend was pleasant enough, which added to my early cheerful Monday demeanor. Did less drinking and more awkward socializing. Anything social with me is usually awkward, but mostly entertaining.
Have decided-which doesn’t mean I will- to compose a list for myself to look at whenever I shake my fists towards the sky and am like: am I really that repulsive??!!!
The list won’t say yes, but it will shed some light on why I am sexy beast to MYSELF only…and not quite understood by the opposite sex.
Winter also doesn’t help because, like a bear, I like to hibernate. I have to force myself to go anywhere outside of work- luckily winter just started last week so I haven’t been much of a recluse. Friday night it was a mix of being cold, sleepy and clueless. While I waited for peeps at a wine bar, I got hit on TWICE and didn’t notice either time. The dudes had to tell me and then there was an awkward silence. I was definitely flattered and would’ve been interested if I hadn’t allotted myself only a certain amount of energy to be social with my peeps. Anything else was one word responses and grunts.
So, that gets filed under: letting cock ops pass me by.
Saturday I had STRONG intentions on leaving my house, but there was heat and there were movies. I mean I deep conditioned the hair n’ filed the nails…picked out an outfit…contemplated where to go…and then I found myself watching New Jack City- and that was all she wrote.
This gets filed under: never leaving house.
Because I am complex, I decide its okay to leave my house on Sunday during torrential downpours. Even though I chose not to straighten my hair, if it even hears the word rain, it does CRAZY things like go wavy, curly and STRAIGHT. It’s amazing really. In the end it looks like I have one of Diana Ross’s wigs that have been sweated out via performances and sex with European princes.
To top off my AMAZING do, I have these moments where the 15 year old frat boy that I bury deep within explodes out. Haven’t figured out what causes it, but it happens and it embarrasses me to no end. Picture me standing in a classy hotel lounge. Having easy going chats that turn to witty banter, which I can usually keep up with- no no, not this time. This time I decide in a slightly empty hotel lounge (because my voice echoed) to invite with hand motions pointing towards my crotch and by saying: there’s enough for everyone …
…to two of my dude peeps, one of which looks at me, and because of an earlier convo, says: I understand now.
Meaning he didn’t understand before why most guys don’t like me back, but he got it just then. I shrugged and held my face in my hands.
This gets filed under: not having better hair strategery and not killing the 15 yr old frat boy within.
Of course today my hair is fabu! All full n’ wavy. Looks like I care about myself. That’s one good thing about today-OH another is my restraint. Restraint from chocking a bitch…REALLY. CloseUp has her moments when I think she’s cool and others when I to kick her shins. The other night we were taking the train together and she turns to me and asks (seriously): Have you heard of Lady Gaga?
I stare at her silently, then very bitchily respond: um, yeah. Who hasn’t??
She says she just learned about her from gay best friend the other day. I tell her he wasn’t being a very good gay because Gaga has been out for a while. CloseUp then says that she wants me to hear this one song by her and proceeds to coyly take out her Discman…which again makes me *heart* her. We then discuss how my dad had to force an iPod upon me because I was content making mixtapes and using my Sony Sport (because I drop shit) walkman.
So, CloseUp was on the good foot, until everyday since she has asked me if I have heard of Lady Gaga which has me believing B when she says that she may be semi-retarded.
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