Archive | May, 2012

Lies I’ve Told

31 May

Geminis are great liars. It’s a common trait. I’m a phenomenal liar. I’ve had lies that have spun out of control and done a lot of damage. However, in honor of my 28th birthday, I’ve decided to list the ridiculous number of white lies I’ve told in my adolescence. Lies that, in retrospect, are incredible and slightly preposterous. Lies that I am certain my parents knew were lies. I can only hope someday my teenage daughter comes to me with these excuses and lies so I can smile a little and let her think she’s winning.

(I apologize in advance, Mom, if some of these are new to you…)

Belly Button Piercing Lie

When I turned 18, I went and got my belly button pierced. I told my mother I was going over Bethany’s house. She came with me and unfortunately had written in my birthday card how excited she was that we were going together to do this. When I got home, I put all my birthday gifts and cards from school on the table and my mother wanted to read them. I saw her reading Bethany’s and froze. She just looked me sitting on the couch and goes “Lift up your shirt.” Now, if you’ve ever gotten a piercing, you know it don’t look pretty at first. It was purple, inflamed, and gross looking. My mother gave me her silent reaction of disapproval that only the best mothers can do and said “Well…you better not get it in infected.” Don’t worry, I totally got it infected a week later

Boys Hockey Sleepover

My high school varsity hockey team won the state championship my sophomore year (yes? I’m old, I forget). There was a huge party at my classmates house filled with lots of underage drinking and chair breaking. It was one of those epic high school parties that movies are written about where everyone was invited and having a great time. The after party for the hockey team was at a player’s house a few neighborhoods away. Alia was dating one of the guys at the time and asked me to come with her. I immediately said yes. So Alia and I went with the boys to the sleepover and spent the night in the basement with parental supervision above us and state champions piled around on couches and pillows. It was entirely innocent minus the wee freshman who we had gotten wasted, (it happens) peeing in the corner of the basement thinking it was the toilet in the middle of the night. I told my mom I was at Alia’s. I was at Alia’s a lot.

Montreal

I can not tell you how many times I said I was at a sleepover but in Montreal at baby’s first strip club.

Car Dent

I dented my beloved Lumina backing out of the driveway. When I realized what I had done, I ignored it and waited for my parents to notice. Once they did, I told them it must have happened in a parking lot. I’m pretty sure my dad watched me run into the mail box a few days earlier so I’m convinced he knew all along. Mail boxes sneak up on you! And it probably was covered in snow and hard to see! Ok. It wasn’t. But that’s a possibility!

Condoms

My mother found a wrapped condom in the pocket of my jeans doing laundry. She came upstairs and threw it at me. I told her it wasn’t opened and therefore not used so she shouldn’t be worried I was having sex. Yeah…it was a spare condom…

Instant Messenger

When AOL was first available to everyone and instant messaging was the coolest, I got carried away. I remember in the beginning, you would find strangers through similar profiles and interests or chat rooms. I had a lot of friends that liked Blink 182 and Third Eye Blind and Britney Spears as I did in my 7th grade lifestyle. I started lying to people. I told several ‘friends’ I knew Mark Hoppus from Blink 182 and hung out with him almost daily. I told one girl I was Britney Spears once and played it off for wayyyyy too long. I was a teenager obsessed with these musicians and all I wanted was to be a roadie or childhood friend who keeps in touch so…I was…in my head… I eventually got caught in every one of my lies, mostly because they got entirely unbelievable and I didn’t have the energy to actually create ‘proof” though I did practice doing Britney’s autograph for a day.

Dog Chain

When we were kids, I hit my brother in the eye with our dog Cody’s chain leash. We were playing in the side yard and he made me mad somehow and I picked it up and threw it at him, not intentionally trying to hit him. But I did. Right above his eye. I could have blinded him. Luckily, I didn’t and told my parents it wasn’t me. It was clear it was me and I was punished for it but to this day, I deny it and say he fell.

Prom

My first love was my date to prom my senior year. We had been dating about a year and we had done everything you do with the first boy you say I love you to except stay in a filthy, roadside motel. Well, check that off for Prom Night! I told my mom that Alia was having people over her place after prom. I think she was in her own lie but I can’t recall. Anyway, we spent the night at this horrifying motel on Shelburne Road that when I drive past now, I cringe. Well, I used to cringe. Now enough time has past it’s comical to me. This hotel was just the epitome of sleeze bucket. It smelled weird, the shower curtain had mold all over it, the TV was bolted hardcore to the wall, and you couldn’t even guess what color the carpet originally was. Perfect! To make matters worst, or actually, more cliche, we had scored a bottle of Bacardi O and vanilla Coke. To this day, I can’t drink Barcardi O or vanilla Coke. I was stupid and drank way too much and vomited the entire night. At least it was a double so we had a puke bed and a sleeping bed. No, I did not clean up my disaster because it actually complimented the room. The next day at home, I spent most of my morning in the bathroom. My parents never said anything and I told them I just didn’t feel well and was tired, but they knew. That was my first and worst hangover ever. I have drunk since, even though I swore I never would. But don’t we all do that?

Kids, sleepovers are the best lies. Sleepovers with parental supervision are even better. What parent can deny you attending a party with parents? Not a one, that’s for sure. I am blessed that I was raised to be responsible and safe and I never got myself into any sticky situations or badly injured. I never drove drunk or high and was smart about all activities involving boys. Sometimes I feel being a grownup is less fun because you can do whatever you want, you don’t need to lie or sneak out the back door or beg for junk food. You are your own parent in most things. Where’s the fun in that?!

I Heart Jenna Marbles

28 May

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I’m slightly obsessed with YouTube personality Jenna Marbles. If you’ve never watched her videos before, do it now; she’s hysterical. I also have a huge girl crush on her. Anyway, she made this video and it inspired me to compile my own list. Obviously, Jenna’s rules all apply, not that this list could in any way happen. So, here it is; a list of people I would hypothetically have sex with. Sorry, Mom.

Alexander Skarsgard
Binks from Hocus Pocus
Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, & Spike
Raphael the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle
Benny from The Sandlot
Ryan Gosling (duh)
Sam, Dean, & Castiel from Supernatural, possibly at the same time
Cory Chalmers from Hoarders, after he’s showered
Devon Sawa as Casper the Friendly Ghost in human form
Jenna Marbles, obvi
Stephan Jenkins (and I would make him sing to me after)
Michael Westen from Burn Notice
Xander Crews from Frisky Dingo
Steve from Ghost Hunters
Dr. Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds
Emma Stone
Aladdin
Peeta and Gale
Marshall from How I Met Your Mother
Roger Sterling
Zooey Deschanel
The hot guy I saw on the bus the other day
Ian Somerhalder
Hyde from That 70’s Show
Max from A Goofy Movie
Edward Cullen
Oliver Wood

Ok, that went on longer than I expected.

Conversation I had with Rachel while I was writing this:

Me: My list is mostly fictional characters…oh well.
Rachel: That’s why it’ll be hilarious
Me: Some are cartoon characters
Rachel: Aladdin
Me: HOW DID YOU KNOW?!??
Rachel: Because we have similar taste in cartoons
Me: This list is getting out of control
Rachel: That’s typical of you. I’m not surprised.
Me: Are you calling me a whore?
RAchel: With fictional characters and celebrities? Yes, yes I am.

Song of the day: I Kissed A Girl by Katy Perry

Break Up Songs

21 May

Every once in a while, there’s a few songs that come along that make me wish I was going through a breakup. I know that sounds utterly ridiculous but it’s true. I love a good breakup song and for the past four years, I’ve been in a loving and committed relationship where the sad heartbreak songs don’t affect me anymore. I used to be able to recall past memories that would send me into a downward spiral of sitting on my fire escape, drinking wine and holding myself remembering how many pieces my heart was in. There was one specific breakup and relationship that was the freshest and most harmful and still stung until recently when that clever mistress Time let us both know everything was healed. We found out we could finally be friendly and reminisce about the happiness that there was between us. Stupid Time. Why you gotta take away my self pity parties?

Adele’s “Someone Like You.” First of all, the talent of this woman is astounding and the way she sings this song would re-break anyone’s heart. Saturday Night Live did a skit that I think sums up the reaction I have when hearing this song.

Follow this link if you missed this sketch:

http://perezhilton.com/2011-11-14-emma-stone-snl-adele-someone-like-you-sketch-video

That’s how I feel when I hear this song. I want to eat an entire pint of ice cream and be as cliche as possible with tears running down my face as I ugly cry about how worthless I am and what did I do wrong.

If you don’t understand what ugly crying is, learn from one of the best: Dawson Leary

Adele paints a heart wrenching picture of a girl left behind. I’ve been that girl, hanging on with claws to a relationship that abandoned and forget me long ago. And you totally do want to show up on the boy’s doorstep and be like “Oh hey…sorry to show up like this but I’m not over you and I was wondering if maybe you could pick me again? Oh, you’re married? Well…that’s fine…congrats but the thing is I really need you to take me back. TAKE ME BACK TAKE ME BACK!” The smartest line is where she says “Sometimes it lasts in love, sometimes it hurts instead.” It’s the truest lyric. Love isn’t predictable, as much as I wish it was a fairy tale and we all had our happily ever afters. It could be perfect and break just as easily if it was doomed from the start.

Gotye’s “Somebody I Used to Know”. I mean, obviously. This song is the one that still catches me off guard. I hadn’t heard this song before seeing him perform on Saturday Night Live and it just grab me by the throat and I couldn’t breathe. I could feel tears brimming in my eyes and I didn’t move the entire performance. Why I love this song is because of the lyrics. It’s a conversation. I’ve said those words, I have had those words spoken to me. I’ve had those thoughts a million times over.

This song is one of those where I wonder if it was written for me. It is the story of the aforementioned breakup that has been healed. It was a struggle to deal with being cut off and treated like a person who never existed in the other’s life. It was severe and shameful the things that we said and did to each other. It’s hard to believe how people survive breakups like that one. I almost didn’t. You have this beautiful love you believe is going to last forever and then, suddenly, you look up and it’s gone. You’re telling the person never to call you again and deleting everything you can. He’s changing his phone number, telling his friends to ignore you, telling you he never loved you. You look again and everything you had is just dust. There isn’t even a solid piece to grab hold of to remember and to rely on when you feel everything you did was wrong. This song is angry as I was angry, as anyone would be angry. It’s yelling and screaming at this person you used to wake up next to. I love it for that reason. I wish it had come about 6 years ago but I’ll take it now.

I know it seems weird to say I wish I was in a breakup. I don’t really wish it.  It’s just not as powerful when you’re not IN IT. I had great break up songs when I was in it. Boyz II Men’s “End of the Road” (I used to ugly cry to this in middle school over one particular boy: D.H), John Mayer’s “In Your Atmosphere”, Kelly Clarkson’s “Since You’ve Been Gone”, Dashboard Confessional’s “Screaming Infidelities”, Ben Fold Five’s “Song for the Dumped”, Aimee Mann’s “The Moth”, etc. But it was those moments, ugly crying in my car or basement or dorm room that I felt intensely human. I was broken and bruised and screaming, inside and out. And it was the breakup songs that were the glue putting the pieces back together to make me anew. Now I listen to the songs and I recall what it was like and smile fondly on those moments of comfort and release. I think it’s the strength I felt going through that and belting out my heart, sending it out towards the heartbreaker, hoping he heard, even if it was just someone he used to know at that point.

Luckily, that’s no longer the case.

Now and then I think of when we were together
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die
Told myself that you were right for me
But felt so lonely in your company
But that was love and it’s an ache I still remember

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
Like resignation to the end, always the end
So when we found that we could not make sense
Well you said that we would still be friends
But I’ll admit that I was glad it was over

But you didn’t have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing
And I don’t even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger and I feel so rough
No you didn’t have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number
I guess that I don’t need that though
Now you’re just somebody that I used to know

Random Thoughts

18 May

This is a compilation of the random stuff that pops into my head. It’s mostly just complaints with a few thoughts thrown in.

I hate it when people continuously press the cross walk button. One push is sufficient. Pressing it non-stop will not make the lights change any faster. Do you not realize that the lights have to finish their cycle before it’s your turn to walk? They can’t just magically turn red when someone’s in the middle of the intersection. Take a chill pill.

Use your turn signal before changing lanes, people. It’s just common courtesy and makes the road a safer place for everyone. I overuse my turn signal, if that’s possible. I even use it when pulling into my driveway sometimes. And parking spaces.

I am always hungry. Always.

I found a peacock feather on the floor in the grocery store last week. That was weird.

I hate everything about “LOL”. I hate it when people type it. I hate it when people say it, unless they are clearly being sarcastic. I do, however, like ROTFLMAO.

What happens if you drop your phone or keys into a USPS mailbox? Can you call the post office and have them come get your item(s) out for you? I think about this every time I drop something into a mailbox and am holding my phone…even if I’m holding it in the other hand.

I really like to play board games.

Tomatoes are delicious.

Why would anyone ever fill out an official government form in hot pink pen? Or an orange pen? Why?

It really bugs me when women sit down without tucking/smoothing their skirt/dress underneath them. I don’t know why it bugs me, but it does. When you don’t, your skirt bunches up and is uncomfortable to sit on. Also, it increases your chances of wrinkles.

I just read about slugs on Wikipedia. They are gross. I prefer snails, even though they’re pretty much the same thing, because snails have a pretty accessory.

I saw a man taking his parrot out for a walk the other day. It made me smile, unlike the time I saw the man taking his boa constrictor for a walk, which made me jump about 5 feet in the air and quickly back away.

It’s Friday. Have a great weekend, everyone!

Song of the Day: I Wear My Sunglasses at Night by Corey Hart

History of Boys: Dumped on A Street Corner

11 May

I met a boy at a party a few years back. Let’s just call him Yogi. It was the party of a co-worker and I went with several people. It was a Sadie Hawkins theme and we were all dressed as high school stereotype. My “date” and I were dressed as the gothic kids.

At this period in my life, I wasn’t actively seeking a boy to date. But I was at a party and automatically went into single lady mode and narrowed in on a particular blonde boy lacking a female on his arm. We ended up talking by the punch bowl. It couldn’t have been more high school if we had tried. It was the most boring flirting I can remember ever doing but he was pretty cute, great blonde hair, good body, nice smile. He was doing a mediocre job of making me laugh but I had resorted to just flirting with him at this soiree and either giving him my number or second basing it. We talked out on the fire escape to get some privacy and he kept leaning in like he was going to kiss me…but didn’t. It’s one of the most awkward situations to have this guy leaning in like he’s going for and you make your move and he pulls away like it’s a game. True, I did giggle and think it was fun at first but after three times, it’s time to grow a pair of balls and get it over with.

We shared a cab home and I gave him my number. We went on a few dates after that. He took me to this little hole in the wall wine bar and we got to know each other more. I was realizing quickly we had nothing in common. I left the dates always feeling inferior and desperate. Yogi never really gave anything away and was extremely condescending at times. At the wine bar, it was clear I didn’t know as much about wine as I do now. Instead of educating me in a fun, flirty way, he did it in a superior way, where he acted like I should know how to detect the subtle notes of a pinor noir. I had no idea what that meant.

For example, he made me breakfast one morning. It was some sort of multigrain, superfood toast situation with almond butter. It was basically dirt toast. It was grainy, flavorless, and dry. The almond butter did not help, even after I piled it on. When I didn’t eat all of it, Yogi asked me if I liked it. I said “No, I’m not much of a health nut.” And he asked what I ate for breakfast. I answered Poptarts. He laughed and then stopped and said “Wait, you’re serious? That’s disgusting.” RUDE. Poptarts are delicious and perfectly suitable for the poor, starving actress that I was at 24. Well, that I still am. I do eat better now. Though we usually have Poptarts in the apartment. It’s fine.

My friend from high school was playing a show at Arlene’s Grocery. I asked Yogi if he wanted to meet me after work and we’d go down together. He seemed excited about it. When I left work and saw him outside, he was with another guy. Yogi introduced the guy as a friend from out of town who was visiting and Yogi didn’t know he was in town til earlier that day and had now made plans to go drinking with him and a few other buddies. He asked me if I wanted to go. Hurt that he seemed to have forgotten our plans, I said I was going to the show because I promised my friends and it was totally fine if he didn’t want to go. He felt bad and told his friend we’d meet up with them later. I don’t even remember the friend’s name because I did not end up meeting up with him later.

We took the train down to the Lower East Side. He was quiet on the train and I asked him what was wrong and he said he was fine and that I looked really pretty. Naturally, I knew this because I had planned to look awesome. I thought it was winning. We were walking to the bar when he stopped on the corner.

“I’m leaving you here.”

“Wait, what? Like you’re gonna go meet your friend?”

“No. Like I’m leaving you here. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“Um. I don’t understand. You came down here with me.”

“Yeah. I know. I was going to call you last night and do it but I didn’t. I should have because now this is awkward.”

It started to rain. I’m not even kidding. Standing on the street corner, being dumped, in the New York summer rain. The Lower East Side has this yellow and red glow to it sometimes with the heat and the neon lights. I felt it was too bright. Revealing everything that was happening, like everyone could see. I was trying not to cry but I didn’t understand what was happening. I had just gotten dumped a few months earlier, this could not be happening again. Was I defective? Was I doing something wrong? Yes, I was.

“You’re just…too much. I told you I didn’t want a relationship and you’re acting like I’m your boyfriend. I can’t go everywhere with you, my friends are more important. I just don’t want to do this. So I’m gonna go.”

“So you’re just leaving me here. You came down with me knowing you were going to dump me?”

“Yeah. Don’t call me. Have a good night.”

And he left me there. He was right. He did say he didn’t want a girlfriend and I was getting attached as I always did back then. I was so desperate for a boyfriend even though I kept saying I was doing great being single. I was lying. I had ended a serious relationship I had believed was forever so that’s what I was looking for. Forever. My forever had crashed down over me the year before and I was still struggling to get out of the debris. I was dragging the pieces with me, putting them into every new relationship I was having, trying to make them fit. It was immature and pathetic. I was lonely and sad. BUT I did not deserve to be dumped on a street corner. WHO DOES THAT??

I went to the show and met up with my friends. I cried as soon as I saw them. Bless my high school friend Tom Delonge*. He let me cry in his arms as we said hello and did nothing but give me his full attention and patience all night. Him and I had dated briefly in high school and have always remained friends. Delonge came back to my apartment after and we sat up all night on my fire escape and talked about our lives, dating, and what I was doing wrong. He gave me back my confidence a little that night, convincing me that I was worth more and I just needed to let everything go.

I did eventually let everything go. And now the street corner dumping is one of my favorite boy stories to tell. I mean, he really just left me there. I was standing in the rain in my sundress, coated in yellow and red glow, thinking “Wow. This is a scene from a movie. Someone film this. Seriously.” I watched him walk all the way around the corner before I decided to go into the bar. I remember before I started crying, I laughed. You know that kind of laugh where it just escapes you almost like a cough and you stand there, slack jawed, not able to form words. But, as usual, I just turned around, walked into the bar, and drank some beers from with my friends.

It’s also my favorite story because I found out later, Lincoln, my boyfriend, was at that party. He was dating someone else at the time, a girl I was also friends with so we aren’t sure, but we think we may have been introduced. I actually found a picture on Facebook where you see me talking to Yogi and Lincoln’s about 6 feet away from me. He insists at the time if we had met, it wouldn’t have been good for either of us. He was going through something similar to me and neither of us was ready for something serious. Fortunately, when we did meet at another party, we were less crazy and were able to fix each other.

I’ve seen Yogi since then and I still don’t know why I was so attached. He was cold to me, confusing, it was obvious he didn’t like me and I didn’t really like him either. So why was I so upset? I just want to slap my past self in the face sometimes. But it wouldn’t have made me the girl I am now. It wouldn’t have given me another heartbreak that was guiding me towards a solution. I was looking up from the bottom of the well and every time my heart shatter, I was sinking further down. It wasn’t until I was completely submerged with no air that I realized, I needed to start swimming. And that’s when I met my soul mate.

 

 

Catching the Bouquet…

10 May

I am not a competitive person. I like to play games for the sake of playing a game (and having something to do). I don’t care if I win or lose. This lack of competitive edge is why I sucked so bad at field hockey. So, when I dove for the bouquet at Alia’s wedding, I think I shocked a lot of people, including myself.

I was a bridesmaid in three weddings last fall. At the first wedding, I found myself really wanting to catch the bouquet for some reason. I placed myself in what I thought was a great place and jumped with the other hopeful bouquet-catchers as the bride tossed. Alas, I was standing too close to the bride and the girl standing behind me was the lucky one.  It ended up being OK, though, because the guy who caught the garter wasn’t my type.

Up next was Alia’s wedding and I was ready. I positioned myself farther back in the crowd and crouched into the perfect pouncing position. What I did not take into account was the low ceiling in the venue. The bouquet ricocheted off said ceiling and the girls in front of me dove for it- and I dove on top of them. This moment is really just a blur to me, but what I do remember happening is this: the girl who caught the bouquet started to run off the dance floor after she had the flowers. Unfortunately, my hand was caught in her hair and, as she started to run, I pulled my hand back. Hard. It must have hurt. I felt bad. Kind of. Then, Alia turned around and yelled at the bouquet winner, who I think was her cousin. I’m not sure why she yelled. Alia’s not sure why she yelled. It was all very chaotic.

I then skulked off the dance floor to wallow in my loss. Rachel came over to tell me that she’d never seen me act so aggressively in my entire life. I told her how I’d pulled the girl’s hair. We shared an evil laugh.  Then, bouquet girl came over and handed me the flowers. After some back and forth with her (“You take them.” “But you caught it!” “No, really, take them.” “No, they’re yours.” “No, here.” “Why?” “I don’t want them.”) I had the bouquet. I was victorious. And I was treated to a very risque, Chippendale-esque routine by Alia’s cousin (other side of the family from the girl who’d caught the bouquet) who had caught the garter.  The garter that I later wore OVER MY JEANS to the wedding after party. God, I’m so cool.

A lovely picture of Rachel and me with the infamous bouquet.

The bride at the third wedding did not throw a bouquet, so this scene was not repeated. That is something we can all be thankful for.

This incident has taught me that I do have a competitive spirit buried deep inside of me that only comes out when I’ve had wine. Also, I’m really awesome at weddings.

Song of the Day: Whatta Man by Salt-N-Pepa

Texts From Bethany

9 May

I wanted to share with the world the gems I receive from Bethany on a daily basis. They come to me at all times of day and bring me such joy, I can’t even explain it. Bethany almost needs her own Texts From Last Night website.

These are from different conversations over the course of the last few months. I think they are even better out of context.

-Right. Ok. Maybe lay off the sauce for a while

-Omg. I hit myself in the face with a swing last night. I have a bruise.

-He left his underwear at my house????

-Unless it’s drunk golf. That would make me fear for my life.

-What are the cool girls doing with their pubic hair these days?