Size does matter

So just when I thought my insecurities about being short were unwarranted, I read an article on msn.com that states the taller you are the more money you will make. Now, if I didn't already have a million reasons why I should buy 5 inch stilettos, besides making my calves look phenomenal in skirts, and adding a little spice in the bedroom. Now I have to add the fact that it might allow me to make a 6 figure salary. God, will this ever end? I already think I have a problem, and have secretly admitted myself into shopaholics anonymous, and now I am forced to go out and buy all new shoes to ensure that my 5 foot 2 stature does not prevent me from succeeding in life. The amount of pressure that this puts on me and my Nordstrom card is quite stressful. I am not sure exactly how I will be able to overcome this. Perhaps through some serious psychological counseling and a couple shots of tequila. But I am weary about my possibilities of survival in this world when I am constantly trying to compete with: 5'10" women who make more money, therefore allowing them to afford better clothes, who then get taller men, who also make more money, thus allowing them to wear better clothes. Then they buy a fancy apartment and both of them make children who are tall, beautiful and rich (with nice clothes). Next thing you know, the happier, taller, richer people start taking over. Soon, you will see them everywhere, because they will be posted on billboards, advertising the new condos that I can't afford. K, when they beep you on the apocalypse don't forget to get me in the Saks shoe department.

Gingko anyone?

So I have diagnosed myself with ADD or I think the adult version is ADHD. I took a quiz on-line and yep I have it. I decided that this might be an issue when all within 1 hour I was on-line searching for apartments in Hobo, flights to Chicago, housewarming gifts on Macys.com. I get so obsessed and overwhelmed with the amount of things I want and need to do, and next thing you know I have 10 windows open and I wonder why my computer crashed. The apartment hunting is because I have this vision of being the next Trump and owning all of Hudson street, the flight is for another wedding (damn it! If one more person gets married I am becoming a lesbian), and the housewarming gift is for my newly divorced, father of a beautiful baby girl, friend of 10 years (wait that sounded weird). Oh, so I guess I should also have a toysrus.com window too! New father's housewarming party is the same night of K's birthday and it took so much trouble to get reservations at the TBA (Ha you thought I would spill it) that I am going to have to either miss it entirely, or show up fashionably late (as always). But not without a story on how wonderful the evening was - OOh I feel like I am competing with K's birthday surprise of Batali and Jean George all in one night. How can I compete?? But I will try. I don't know how being diagnosed with ADHD has anything to do with Batali, but alas here we are. Off to some more window shopping.

Look dead bird flying!

I am not sure what we have done to piss off the powers to be, but the headlines on the news has caused me to wonder. On Saturday, people are walking around Hobo in tank tops and shorts; there are dead birds in Austin; barn owls are dying in droves in southern Idaho; and today there is a weird odor in NY. Could it have something to do with Wielgus collaborating with the Polish communist?

Bling Bling

I don’t know when I decided to stop being shallow…But I am sure it was somewhere between realizing my rich suga' daddy was really someone else’s daddy and having my 2 carat diamond ring stolen by some guy named Pinchingo. I guess I woke up one morning and realized: 1) I had no diamonds 2) who knows when I will ever see that many carats again (chicken soup perhaps), 3) I no longer had a fat ugly bf with deep pockets. In this epiphany came the notion: Why should women get diamond engagement rings? There are kids killing each other and people dying for these stones, just so I could wear it on my hand and show it off at Del Posto. So instead I thought I would be different, I would get a non-diamond engagement ring. Brilliant! Everyone would ask me and I would tell my good heart felt story (which everyone knows I love so much) and it would be different, and people would think me so kind. That was until Leonardo Di Caprio ruined it for me. The movie “Blood diamond” has started this exact trend. And as much as I am glad that a blockbuster movie may have put an awareness to the blood baths in Africa, it also stole my idea! Now what? So I am in search of new ideas. K has suggested an engagement necklace, I am opting more for an engagement piercing, but it has to be in a place where I can show it to the parents. Or tattoo rings – Miami ink here I come! Or maybe I can find some rare stone that can only be mined in Uzbekistan or Nepal and then I can have a Sherpa help bring down my engagement stone from the mountain. Could make for quite the story? Or I could just go back to the traditional idea of a big fat diamond rock which costs about three months salary…Hmm, who needs to save the world anyway. Too bad because I really would have liked to have Ami with a needle to my calf while I rubbed his head for good luck. .

Happy New Year

It has officially been about one year since I have posted in my blog, and my new years resolution is to make a diligent effort to keep this blog up to date. Where did 2006 leave me? I am still struggling in law school, but I have officially hit the hump! I am half way to paying $1000/month in student loans. Oh, the things to look forward to. I figure it will resemble my life now, eating at Bouley while putting off my cable bill for 2 months. Who needs Lifetime anyway? This past year was a difficult semester, as I had a nervous breakdown after having a 4 hour exam on hearsay. All of a sudden easements and covenants sounded exciting to me. Without fail, spring semester starts in a week, and I am excited (I always was a masochist) to jump right back in to giving up my social life again, eating anything in microwavable form, walking around in slippers and sweats for weeks at a time, and listening to Podcasts of lectures instead of the latest song on Jack FM. Aside from school, my social life has improved in 2006. No psycho bf, or crazy Russians. Still going strong with the Midwestern (except now employed and sharing the same time zone). So, even though the rent on the new crib in Hobo is the GDP of a 3rd world country, we are pretty happy with the new living situation. In conclusion, the new year has brought me more disposable income, more debt, escrow issues (don't ask), and cutting down on Spike's daycare to twice a week. How else am I going to save money for the trip to Barcelona on spring break? Ahh, the more things change the more they stay the same.

Let them eat cake

One of the exercises that we were asked to do in Criminal Law class is to come up with "a story" for the defendant we represent. Now this exercise can be quite fun, yet disturbing at the same time. Especially when you are blaming drunkeness on beating a grandmother to death, or a seizure being the reason the defendant ran over his cheating wife. or my favorite was the lawyer that constructed the "story" of the husband who threw his wife overboard on their honeymoon because she ate too much cake. Remind me to stay away from the lemon meringue.

Battle of the Bulge

Any who has known me even for a fraction of my life, knows that I have always been thin. I am not saying this to brag, I have a fast metabolism and I was always small as a child and teenager too. But the days of eating bags of cheez doodles and powdered donuts are over. Since May of last year I have somehow managed to put on 16 lbs. Now I am a whopping 5 feet 2 inches, and regardless of the 5 inch heels I am a short girl. You see, 16 lbs on me makes me look a little bit like Daniel Baldwin. Yep that bad guys! Luckily, the LIL has not noticed and even if he has, he still tells me I look beautiful. AHH, love is blind. But when I tried to put on those tight little courderoy hip huggers the other day, and I could not get them past my J-lo on steroids ass I realized I was done. It was time to make a change. But what did I do wrong? Was it the changing of jobs? Changing of BF's? Was it the late night meals, or the new chef in the house? Finally, I narrowed it down to the Cappucino muffins, and the Freshman 15. So after many weekends hiding in sweats and having sex in the dark, until that black Friday when my dad told me I was putting on the pounds. Okay goodbye muffins! I decided about a month ago to do what I never thought I would be doing - Dieting. And don't get me wrong nothing wrong with it, except that there are so maby fad diets out there that it has become a craze. One day it is the eat all fat, grease, fries, steak and eggs, and loose weight diet, the following week it is eat only raw foods, then no white foods, etc... When it came for me to join the fat wagon, I decided on good ole fashion diet...WW. I don't have to spell it out, those that are on it know exactly who I am talking about. The LIL doesn't know I am a member, but I am sure my internet history doesn't lie. Especially, when everything that pops up is points, smartones, and I just dropped $50 on Lean cuisine. So here I am - 8 lbs lighter and counting. My goal was to drop 3 more lbs by the time I go to Puerto Rico, which is tomorrow. Which means unless I purge or take tons of horsetail, it aint going to happen. But I am okay with that, I am still throwing the bikini on and will be walking down San Juan with my head up high. Because the one advantage to sun bathing in Latin countries is that latin men love a good size booty and thighs. Thank god for my people! If not for the love of the curves, every Hispanic would be forced to look like Kate Moss. But since the men all want your ass to look like a mix between Beyonce and Scarlett Johansen - I am all set for the weekend. And the good news is that the Lean Cusine's have not burned me out yet, but I have become overly obsessive (like I do with most things). It is a sad day when I am counting 21 cheetos on my plate.

Baby Come Back

Well it has been way too many months since I have posted anything of any relevance, not including the angry letter to the editor that I was so very proud of. Well let’s cut to the chase and do a briefing on what’s been going on since the last entry. In October, the Midwestern came back (a.k.a. BF). After two weeks of heavenly bliss, and endless days of not getting out of bed, all that patience finally resulted in permanent residence. The BF abroad has graduated to Live in Lover. Quite a feat considering that he was first the friend, (after a messy break up with Hitler and a rebound with the Russian) then the friend with benefits, then the commitment phobic BF, then the somewhat serious but leaving for sabbatical BF, and finally the BF abroad. (Long distance sucks in case anyone has not figured that out by now). Go back through the Archives if you missed any episodes. The one advantage to having the BF abroad were the lavish exotic places I visited for our romantic rendezvous. (And of course the shower in the jungle). After a transitional and very exciting 10 months, I think we have developed into quite the couple. Even though we were pretty head over heels over each other for most of it, it was just a matter of getting him to stay still (read Taxi entry). I would even be bold enough to say we have become the envy of most, so perhaps that is why I have avoided writing in the blog. Because no one who has any brain cells wants to hear all the lovey dovey details of someone else’s relationship. It is almost as bad as putting a picture of the two of you on your cell phone (okay yes I have one of those too - I can’t help it). What’s next? His face as my MSN messenger icon? Damn it, too late! (Just kidding Kim) Lets be honest, the exciting blog entries are those that contain ugly fights, hidden wives, suga daddy’s, and restraining orders. Ahh memories…So since for once in my life I don’t have any cheating boyfriends, jealous lovers, or saggy ass booty calls, I figured I would take a break from the blog writing. Until I was out the other night, and I realized there is still plenty to discuss besides googly eyes. So I am back and hopefully with a vengeance. Stay tuned “battle of the bulge”.

Memoirs of a Geisha

In response to the article "Real Estate In Ecuador Beachfront And Mountains" ~ By Jorge Loor Zambrano. This article gives a brief description of purchasing property in Ecuador that was for the most part accurate; however, what disturbed me most was the last paragraph. Mr. Zambrano wrote "And why not mention about those Men that are looking for good wife (Ecuadorian women are similar to geishas...they take very good care of their husbands)... This is a great place to find dedicated women."
Not only does this comment by Mr. Zambrano paint him, and your magazine by association, as endorsers of sweeping gender and racial stereotypes, it is inaccurate. It may be true that members of powerful, wealthy nations like the United States have historically gone to economically challenged areas--within the United States or beyond its borders--with the hope that they may use their money to lure women to become servile wives. That this is a practice that obviously attempts to objectify, if not dehumanize women is not my concern in this letter. My concern is that your magazine fully endorses, recommends, and thereby celebrates viewing women in this light, more specifically Ecuadorian women, making the claim that "Ecuadorian women are similar to geishas."
A geisha is defined as "a Japanese woman trained to entertain men with conversation and singing and dancing." Even though strictly speaking Geisha does not mean prostitute, the word “geisha” contains connotations of prostitution. There has been much confusion regarding this inaccurate depiction in Western popular culture, specifically in the United States. Hence, the comments by Mr. Zambrano are insulting to the women of Ecuador, more so to women in general. A woman’s character should not be judged solely by her ability on being a “good wife”, especially when the standard that is being used is based on the act of obedience, submissiveness, or sexual favors.
In order to remove the ignorance associated with this comment, I would like to give you an example of what is truly an Ecuadorian woman:
In 1944 a woman named Dolores Cacuango founded the Ecuadorian Federation of Indians (FEI) and led Indigenous forces in an attack on the local army barracks in Cayambe. In Quito, white feminists including Nela Martínez and Luisa Gómez de la Torre who had founded the Ecuadorian Feminist Alliance (AFE) helped organize a human enclosure around the Government Palace in Quito and gained the surrender of the men stationed there. Without the support of the military, Arroyo resigned the presidency. Contemporary reports indicated that the women's committees played an important role in the large street demonstrations which accompanied this major change in government.
According to a recent report by the International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance, 7% of the local governments are women, and in 1999 15% of the Ecuadorian Congress were women. In 2000, a total of 24.8 % of women were represented in politics. In order to increase woman participation in politics in Ecuador, a quota was established. Ecuador has a 20% quota law that requires women's participation as candidates in legislative elections. In Latin America, Ecuador was the first to recognize women's political rights, in 1929.
Yes, Ecuador is a great place to find a dedicated woman. An example of what kind of woman can be found in Ecuador would be someone like Angiolina "Angie" Wiskocil. Angiolina Wiskocil, is an Ecuadorian woman who is the Senior Vice President of Network Services of SBC Communications Inc. She is an Ecuadorian woman who is responsible for network operations strategy and staff support, capital program management, and network regulatory support, and has headed the SBC/Yahoo strategic alliance, been vice president for Network Engineering West, and served on California's United Task Force to bridge the "Digital Divide." She also has represented SBC Communications in the national women's group Leadership America in the United States.
But let us not forget to mention, that Ecuador for a brief period of time, had a woman president. For a couple of days, Vice President Rosali'a Arteaga, initially backed by the military, and Fabia'n Alarco'n, head of Congress, jockeyed for the post of president. While taking time out of her role as a “geisha”, she has also been a central figure in the affairs of Ecuador for many years. Rosalía Arteaga Serrano was vice president in 1996-97 and served briefly as the country’s president during a constitutional crisis in February 1997. Before that she held a number of important government positions, such as minister of education, culture, and sports; president of the National Council of Development; and several other prominent posts in the Ministry of Education and Culture and other areas. She was also a councilwoman in her native city of Cuenca in 1986-88. Today, as secretary-general of the Brazil-based Amazon Cooperation Treaty Organization, she plays a major role in helping to restore the Amazon region and rescue it from the threat of environmental disaster. She works at high levels with the governments of all the countries in the region. A journalist and a lawyer, Ms. Arteaga has written several books and publishes articles and columns regularly in newspapers, magazines, and journals.
Other woman whom have played a major role in Ecuador include, but are not limited to: Cynthia Vitery, deputy of the Christian Social Party, possible candidate for presidency, Nina Pacari the first Indigineous woman to be elected to vice president of the Ecuador’s National Assembly, and deputy of the Pachakutic party, possible candidate for the presidency, Ximena Bohorquez, Congresswoman and the first lady of Ecuador.
As written by Doris Solis Carrion, the first female vice mayor of the city of Cuenca; “Ecuador [Cuenca] is giving its full support to women's empowerment and to the realization of their rights and aspirations. By doing so, it is building a more democratic society which can serve as an example for other regions…"
Not only was the comment by Mr. Zambrano a racial and gender stereotype, it is also untrue. Ecuador has historically led the way in Latin America in the area of women's rights and civil liberties.

Natalie E. Flores


References
Mujeres y poder politico en Latino America, International IDEA, 2002, Mala N. Htun

Women in power: from tokenism to critical mass., Foreign Policy, Jaquette, Jane S.,; Fall 1997, n108, p23(15)
The Politics of Exclusion, Ecuador's Glorious May Revolution of 1944 , Assistant Professor of History, Truman State University, Marc Becker
The 50 Most Important Hispanics in Technology & Business: Pushing to the Top in American Industry, Hispanic Engineer
http://www.guide2womenleaders.com/Candidates_Vice2000.htm
The political participation of Indigenous woman in the Ecuadorian Congress, Nina Pacari
Creating Laws to Combat Violence Against Women, Doris Solis Carrion

Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego

So it has been way too long since I updated the blog and with good reason, the BF has landed and I have not been able to come up for air. School has been kicking my a*S and I am not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. All I can hope is that the final grade will show for all the hard work I have been through. The return of the BF was anything but easy. I spent three days on the phone with a ghetto South American airline threating to call the US embassy for losing a plane of 150 passengers. It looks like in order to avoid some showers in Costa Rica, some honor student at this airline decided to land the plane in a disaster zone where 250 just died from a hurricane. I spent hours on the phone trying to figure out when the plane was being removed from hurricane alley and onto safe ground in NYC. No one was able to tell me anything, every hour, they told me they landed in another country - from Honduras to Nicaragua, but never did they mention where the passengers really were which was El Salvador. So after four days of traveling from Buenos Aires to NYC, I am sure my BF was glad to be home. He told me stories of earthquakes and queens from Japan, but for the most part his adventure to El Salvador was unproductive. And I was glad that I did not have drive to JFK again just to be turned back to Jersey at 2 am in the morning. Damn the things we do for sex. A lot has changed since the return of my don quixote. The living arrangement is now a permanent one. I know there was a period of time when we both thought that it was temporary, but as my previous blogs have explained about the economics of the tri state area...People move in with each other faster here than out west because of the exuberant amount of money you pay in rent. Not to mention the six rounds of sex on a Sunday afternoon. The past month has been seamless, and I can not lie and say that the new roomate is putting a cramp in my style. Because the truth of the matter is, there is nothing but good things to say about the way things are going. You hear all the horror stories of snoring, toilet seats that stay up, fights, and toothpaste on the sink. I was scared too, because the last time someone tried to live with me, I ended up almost pulling my hair out. This time I have someone else to pull my hair. Ahh the joys of moving in together.

Daylight come and me want go home.....

I was going to write a blog entry about the crazy person who was screaming on the subway platform of the 2 train about the different body parts that she wanted to chop up and throw in the river and how not one person on the train flinched an inch, but instead I decided to update everyone on last night's event (trust me it is worth the update). Yesterday was spent visiting the parents and checking out their new apt. They are in the process of moving into a bigger place, backyard, fireplace, etc. But I do not envy them moving. I forgot how much I hated it, until I went to visit and saw 10 million paige boxes all over what is supposed to be the living room, I then spent a couple of hours buying the BF a gift, and then realized that I can not mail it to Buenos Aires because a) it might not make it in time and b) it might be stolen. So I guess I will hold onto it for the next couple of weeks or if times get tough sell it on eBay. My aunt had called and canceled on me around 7, and so I was going to my friend bday party around 10pm. Instead the evening went as follows: In the middle of reading a case about a 77 year old man who fell down the stairs when there was a blackout failure from Con Edison...Does Con Edison owe him a duty? And if answered affirmatively then Con Edison is negligent. Anyway, I get a phone call from my aunt telling me "Is it too late to get you to meet me and your uncle? It was 8:15 at this point. "No, not too late give me about 30 minutes." I knew that was impossible, but I got dressed to impress (best jewelry and shoes) and went on my way. I got to 61st between Madison and park around 9:20pm (gotta love any area near Barneys) to a place called Geisha (right next to Serafina) and am escorted into a private elevator to a second floor (closed off) area. How come I am not surprised? I get there and my uncle gets up and greats me, and there are about 20 people in the room. I greet my aunt, my uncle's fiancee and my baby cousin. So, now my mind is wondering. Okay was this a surprise dinner that my uncle did not know about? And that is why I am just walking in when everyone is eating. Apparently my lovely uncle and his fiancee share a birthday a day apart and they planned this dinner party for themselves. So they knew where, when and how for quite sometime. They booked this place for a private four course dinner, open bar for the evening. Somehow I manage to slip off the radar on the invitation list and my aunt told me my uncle felt so bad because he overbooked, but once he saw that there was room he called me asap. First off my uncle did not call..My aunt did (she is the one who tries to keep the peace) and second off how can you overbook without your niece on the invitation list. But your two other nieces are on the list?...HMM., well it looks like my other niece (college girl) couldn't come which makes me believe I got her seat. So I decide, I am going to be the better person. Do it for your aunt and your baby cousin. Smile and just deal with it. You already know your uncle is a selfish materialistic jerk. So I order lobster, shrimp for appetizer, and as many wines, and martinis I can. Hey, big shot hosts can afford it! So, the night continued with my uncle introducing me to all his friends as his oldest niece who he is soo proud of because I am in law school and studying international relations/law, blah blah. You'd would think he was my agent. Then he brings me over to meet one of his best friends, who is none other than Kathleen Turner. Yep, you heard me. He's been best friends with her for 7 years. She takes a liking to me and tells me if I ever need international connections, just say the word. Then off to meet his other friend, Harry Belafonte's son and his girlfriend. I do the rounds, and smile and be the good networker that I am. By the end, I had bonded with a real estate mogul connection, a Hollywood actress, and the son of a legendary performer/actor/activist..."Day-O!". We then left Geisha around midnight (which I will say I loved and will def go back) One thing about my uncle that I do give him credit for is we always like the same type of places. Then we went back to his fiancee's restaurant which is the famous DB&D. Oh and she thought to show me her 4 karat engagement ring numerous times - I will say it is gorgeous and the green in me did come out a little. Then my uncle turned to me and said "oh you've never been here right?", because the place is hard to get into. I turned to him and said "yes I have I just didn't need to call you to get a reservation." HA! How was that? The truth is I had been there. You know me and restaurants, I like to check out what is the best and the one that is usually the talk of the town I will go to at least once. Well I had been there with a friend of mine over a year ago, and I didn't need to call my uncle to get "in" like he thought. So the night then ended with a grey goose martini and a walk back to my car parked on central park. He thanked me for coming, and I thanked him for "inviting" me. I know the next time I see my uncle will be at his famous shin dig wedding in CT, when I will make sure to go and make my honorable presence. I will def be the belle of the ball that night. Ahh yes the niece no one ever sees :)) Isn't she darling? Is that couture she is wearing? Afterwards, I called punk rock and met her at Manitoba's on avenue B. What a change of atmosphere. Tell me why is it, I actually know where 7th and A is now? We ended up seeing this rock band perform (yeah you could just imagine how I was dressed with jewelry that cost more than the entire wadrobe of the band) and I just wished I could have went in the bathroom and changed into jeans, tank top and flip flops. The rock band was not bad, they reminded me a little bit of poison,. Big hair, 80's rock band. Here is their website: http://www.thetowersoflondon.com/
When you go to the website - go to the music link and listen to a clip of their music so you get an idea of what I was listening to for an hour. My favorite song is "on a noose" and "f*ck it up" (ha!) I got nervous when he threw liquor in the crowd and then jumped off stage and rushed through the crowd to climb on the bar and grab the soda sprayer. I turned to punk rock and said "oh Jesus", she said "You are wearing silk I suggest you duck." So I did, and avoided getting drenched or spit on. After stepping over broken beer bottles and cigarette butts, we left. I love this girl and her boyfriend is awesome, but times like last night I wonder why I don't just carry around some wifebeaters in my car. I also wish nights like last night the BF was around so at least I would have someone to shake my head with. I got the big hair to do it, I am just missing the tight white jeans. Oh god! Okay well I was home by 4am, and now I am studying and reading about a guy who left his friend for dead in the backseat of his car. Is he negligent? I was thinking more like an idiot, but that's just my guess. Back to the books.! Until next celebrity sightings.

So I Married an Axe Murderer

Someone once told me "You think a lot about marriage don't you? The matter at hand is not that I think a lot about marriage, but instead I am skeptical about whether there can be fidelity in the union of marriage. I am constantly presented with situations that make me wonder if everyone in this world has slowly forgotten what the words "I take you to be my faithful partner from this day forward" mean. Guys, there is no expiration date or clause that allows you to change your mind because it happens to be Wednesday. I will explain. I was waiting on line to pay for my sushi the other day when this man came up to me and told me that I was beautiful. He asked me to join him for dinner or a movie. I politely replied "I am sorry, I am seeing someone." He turned to me and answered "That's okay, I am married, the question is "are you happy?" If you all know me, even though I wanted to say other words that probably would have gotten my mouth washed out with soap. Instead, I opted for a simple response "Yes, I am". Why is it that men feel that there are always excuses or reasons why it is okay to engage in adulterous affairs? As we all have, I have also been through my share of my heartbreak. However, I have had more than just the average "It's not you, it's me" break ups. In my case, I am usually confronted with the not so traditional "Oops, didn't I mention the wife?" Yes, of course you did. Because those are facts that I can so easily forget. Hmm, brown hair, blue eyes, wife, ahh yes how could I be so silly? Men love to come up with the reasons why it excuses their behavior (a) My wife and I do not sleep together (b) We have an understanding (c) I don't love her anymore. No sex, lets you sleep with other women, and no emotional attachment..Sounds like a gay room mate to me. So based on my series of bad experiences and choices in men. I have made a list of top ten warning signs that the man of your dreams is really not the man he claims to be. Don't always trust the tan line on the ring finger ladies, take notes: (1) The only telephone numbers you have are his work and his cell phone (trust me his secretary knows who you are - you might even be cafeteria conversation) (2) He is always going away on weekend trips which you are not invited to (This is called going home) 3) He is working on all major holidays (It is 10 pm on valentines day, do you know where your boyfriend is?) 4) He has been with you for four years and he is just not ready to move in yet (not commitment phobic, already committed) 5) His cell phone always manages to be turned off at night (wouldn't want to wake her) 6) He constantly buys things for his nieces, nephews or his sister (guess whose kids those are?) 7) He confuses stories (i.e., He calls your cousin Rob, and you don't have a cousin Rob) 8) You always manage to end up back at your place (Yes, he does have a room mate her name is Mrs....) 9) He tells you his parents live in another country or are dead (unless there are no airports in this country, or you do not see a tombstone - dump him) And last but not least 10) If he seems to good to be true - HE IS! So no, I am not always thinking of marriage, but instead I am always thinking of when my time comes to walk down that aisle to make sure I have a strong prenup and a chainsaw in the garage. You can never be too careful.

East Meets West

"Which way is west?" Those were the words that came out of my mouth on Friday night at 2:45 am while standing on Avenue B and 3rd street. The man with the long bangs and tattoos pointed straight ahead, and I began my journey. I walked past a bunch of grungy bars, and past a desolate park and began wondering how far until I see something familiar. I wanted to take a cab but there were none to be found. Instead a couple of hippies sleeping on the stoop of the stairs of an apartment building, and a bunch of bikers across the street was the only thing visible. After many blocks of painful walking, damn these 5 inch heels! I see the light...Like a mirage , the sign appears: "Soho Billiards". I am home! I managed to walk to Soho and I felt all of a sudden a sense of relief. I got my bearings and I was no longer walking while checking over my shoulder every five minutes. So many may be asking..How did I arrive in this land? What made me pass over into the east? The story is as such. The night began with a rendition of a sixty minute "Romeo and Juliet" by my very talented Asian BF. After 13 weeks of training, the show exemplified the hard work. The night then progressed into tapas and Sangria over to the east, where I drank and talked till late with great friends. The dinner party consisted of prn from school, my gun fighting Virginian, and of course my good looking writer friend from L.I. I suppose the night could have ended in disaster since no one knew each other but they all had a connection either through me or the actor. However, we all found ourselves getting along great discussing bad slap stick comedies, 80's classics, and the waiter who stole a 30% tip. The night almost ended after a tearful walk through Tompkins square park where my LI writer tried ever so valiantly to shower me with eye drops only so that we can be stared out by a couple walking down the street. We were not sure if they were going to run to my rescue because they thought that the writer was an abusive boyfriend who just stuck a bottle in my eye and was yelling at me to stay still while he made me cry even more. I managed to clean out the make up from my eye and regained my composure to walk across the alphabet again. I met up with Punk's friends and we ended up at this dive bar with graffiti on the bathroom walls and drunk bartenders. Nevertheless, as always I had a great time in a place that was not one I would call my own. I know the offer to stay in the west village was there by the writer, and maybe if it was two years ago I might have thought it as an easy way of getting a quickie and then getting out of it by blaming it on the alcohol. However, those days are over and the only thing I could think of that night was how I need to finish law school so I can get my own place in NYC or move in with a guy so that I can split the rent, whichever comes first. Either way, I was stuck again walking past crack heads at 3:30 am in the morning, and sitting next to a drunk worrying that I will fall asleep and miss my stop (or drool on the drunk next to me). Good thing that at this time next Friday, the only worries I will have will be whether the BF and I will be arrested and thrown into an Ecuadorian jail for disturbing the peace, and how to explain that to Dad when he bails us out. The saga continues.

Rain Man

"You have a lot of hair." I slowly lift my head to see a strange looking man sitting next to me on the 2 train. "It is nice and soft." I make a fake smile and pretend to read the advertisements in the car. Am I shedding? How does he know I have soft hair? Perhaps he touched it while I dozed off in between stops. Note to self: wash hair when I get home. "How did you get so much hair?" I look up to see if he is touching my head and when I realize he is not. I notice that he is staring at me kind of like a dog at the kitchen table. "You look happy?" I give him a blank stare and nod like a doll. Maybe he will think I don't speak English. "How did you get to be so happy? Are you always this happy?" I am thinking "Happy??!! Buddy, I am freaked out and praying that you and I do not get off on the same stop. Are we there yet?" And then I hear it like a sign from God "42nd street". The train conductor to the rescue. I get up and what do you know, so does Paul Mitchell. I slowly begin to see if I can get lost in the crowd, and I manage to escape. I have lived in NY long enough to know there are strange people out there, but I have a feeling that my radar is picking up more than usual this past week. Trust me I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Almost Famous

Here is my first official celebrity photo. Don't worry I will not forget about the little people.
http://www.paulfrank.com/photomat/gallery.cfm?event_id=2
(now the trick is to find me :)

Every Breath You Take, Every Move You Make..

I remember sitting in my legal research & writing class last semester trying to write a persuasive memo on stalking and harassment. It is one year later, and I am sitting here still looking up the same cases. However this time not for class..for me. You see somehow throughout my life, I have managed to attract many psychopaths without realizing it. The last BF (Hitler) was always a little odd, but I never would have put the label "crazy" on him. Until now. If you ask me the same question today, the first words that would come to mind would be: order of protection. Recently, as you all know I have had some run-ins with the communist party, which have been anything but pretty. Nevertheless, nothing has happened yet that would move me to start shopping for a stun gun. Not so true anymore. After three phone calls, and five emails asking for money ($200), I am now filing a police report (and the stun gun is on back order). I should have done this when I got the second 5 page email. I may not have graduated law school, but I've watched enough Judge Judy to know it is harassment, stalking, and extortion all in one (okay maybe extortion is a little exaggerated). I am not sure how I got myself into this mess, but it must have been that damn magnet again (here psycho, psycho, psycho..) So off I go to file my first police report, in hopes that I can begin to celebrate the collapse of the Soviet Union. I think Pat Robertson may have a solution for this one.

Faster than the speed of light.

School has started and I realize that whenever that occurs everything in my life slowly starts to resemble a final exam question. As I was speeding down McCarter Highway this morning trying to make the early bird special at the parking lot near the train I take to work..I thought. What happens if I run over someone or get in an accident? The hypothetical would go as such: Plaintiff would sue for damages for personal injury and negligence. Myself, the defendant, would argue that my employer should be held liable because I was within the scope of my employment. In order to make it on time to work, I was forced to speed which caused the accident. And the parking lot would be held contributory liable for the accident, because but for the early bird special, I would not have been speeding to make it there by 8 am, and would not have caused the accident. In the end, I made it to work and I got my $5 discount on parking, all at the same time while studying for torts. Amazing. The morning only got more exciting as I was trying to get through the turnstiles that were made for people who have eating disorders. Then to my surprise I was sexually assaulted by none other than the turnstile himself. As my skirt lifted up to reveal much more than I wanted to show the man behind me. I pulled it down, and ran off into the train, knowing that the man was thinking "good thing it is not granny panty day".

Link to Hamptons and other crazy events

Here is the link of photos of my crazy new friends and our adventures in the Hamptons amongst other places.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/46297459@N00/

I just called to say I hate you

The little yellow envelope on the cell phone is showing one unread message. Strange? I didn't hear the phone ring. And good thing, because low and behold the Czar is back in town. The message went something like this "I have been thinking over the past couple of weeks." Funny, because the only thing I was doing these past couple of weeks was planning an escape route and changing my locks. Where is that sledgehammer? The message continues "I realize I have a little more to tell you in addition to the last email" A little more to tell me!? Is a twenty page email insulting me and calling me a whore (in sophisticated terms) as well as a cheat and a liar not enough. Did I mention selfish and cruel? Yeah, because I thought the same thing when he asked for money back from one of our outings. That's like asking for a refund on a flight you already took because you didn't like where it landed. Personally, I like to think of it as an investment in a company that just went public, and all of a sudden the market takes a nose dive, you just got to write it off. Besides, they always say never to play the foreign market, too risky. So, perhaps there is something he forgot. What was I thinking? I must call and get the remainder of my insults because I would not be complete without them. WTF! This man has balls the size of his ego. Lesson learned, never be friends with a man who is mean to wait staff. Never be friends with someone who thinks money is an adjective used to describe their personality, and most importantly never be friends with someone who offers to be your knight in shining armor and steals your license (just a theory) Because in the end they are all just cursed frogs!

Coming to America

What is the true definition of a one night stand? You see many, many years ago before a quarter of my life was over, I decided to splurge in the realm of such (in a strange and foreign land). The rendezvous became a wonderful memory in my scrapbook and my belt, and also became a string of emails and short visits for years to come. The one night was never repeated but the communication was always there. My Brit and I shared stories of our long term relationships for a good part of the last five years. Last year when Hitler and I broke up, he also broke up with his busty beauty of three, and we both offered each other a consoling shoulder to sweat on, but it never happened. So why am I surprised that he has decided to put NYC as part of his frequent flyer destinations. I notified him of the new beau (not so new anymore), and even though disappointed, he still insisted on a trip down memory lane. I believe the trip to S.A. will be a great way to remind myself why I should not play with fire. As if I have not learned from the Czar that when men do not get to ride the tan horse they become extremely angry. Considering that I do not have time to take out another restraining order, I have opted to turn down the BBC. I am going to stick with my good ole American hippy, and just hope that this is the last time that an ocean separates me and my fix. The next time I see the Midwestern it better be in the US of A, or I am blocking this border baby.