The Earth's Crust Has Many Cracks

At what point in the night did things go wrong is any one's guess. I suppose things went terribly wrong when I ordered a sandwich. Naturally, its like poison to my system but bearing in mind I was feeling a bit rebellious and was going to do exactly what I wanted to do at the exact moment my heart desired therefore I was with sandwich in tow.  Not to mention that this establishment was seriously not of my own desires.  Alas, here we work rocking it out for the greater good at a dingy Irish bar sucking back flat beer and greasy sandwiches when we were feeling a bit over-observed by a strange Asian man.  Standing at a tape-measured distance of less than three feet this particular strange Asian man lingered at the nape of her neck.  I immediately noticed is blatant disrespect for personal space nonetheless was encouraged to keep quiet and that was exactly what I decided to do.  For five minutes this went on.  Even the waitstaff noticed his terribly bizarre behavior. I was just pleased that my back was against the wall. And yes this is something I tend to do frequently.  So here he was standing so close to us and staring like a fat kid in a pastry shop.  I was quite tempted to give him a dead arm because it seemed ironic at the time but instead I acted like a lady that I am from time to time.  After about 20 minutes a friend of the strange Asian man arrived and to my comic relief what this man uttered was without prediction.  And it was as such,  "hey man thank God you made it. I had nothing to do than stare at the crack of this girl's ass for the past 10 minutes."  Now this was a statement that I heard but present company would be terribly insulted, insecure and would make for a nasty continuance of the night.  I cannot make this up.  Apparently her low rise jeans were a little lower giving way to a lucid amount of staring.  As we left the pub my friend made a quick trip to the loo....it was at that time that I provided the crack addict a quarter for the next time he wants to make a call.  It was my first Asian.

The Kids Don't Stand A Chance

I cannot quite pinpoint the exact date that I finally came to grips with the knowledge that I was a geek but there have been countless suggestions. I am here in my geek-dom a self-exposed realized geek.  I assume its not such a bad pocked to be shoved into nonetheless here I am...... At this unusual time of morning 2:20am I am writing a blog. Whilst most are amidst the throws of passion, the throws of after-party, the throws of dinner or the possible throwing-up I sit and pour rubbish onto typeset for the benefit of the greater good.  If it wasn't for the coaxing of some Vampire Weekend I fear this blog would be as dry as the toast that one orders at a 2am breakfast spot.  I digress. So when does one decide they are a geek and then how does one arrange an acceptable lifestyle amongst the non-geek earth dwelling inhabitants?  First and foremost I realized my inner geek when I was asked a simple question at a bar?  So what is it that you do for a living.  I wanted to say to this person so many great things such as; I invented post-its, I am a professional spelunker etc.  None of the viable options appeared to be believable so I parted my lips to utter just what it was that I do.  Before I can form a solid sentence the co-conversational inhabitant boasted that I must be in finance because I looked the type.  I immediately question just what it was that makes me appear to be a finance person as I stand there in my ever so chic dress and knee high boots?  What was it that made me a finance person as I stand amongst the masses oozing Stella McCartney perfume?  So I asked the proverbial question to my own chagrin he stated I looked like a geek!

Do I really was my first internal question? Not exactly.  I'm a normal girl.  And before I can speak further he diverts his attention to my equally beautiful counterpart.  I stood in a short state of shock thinking about how I might be a geek yet again.  None of my friends are geeks with the exception of my beloved geek watch girl but she is only geeky because of the watch...otherwise she is fantastic.  My father and mother were not geeks, they were rather hip yuppies in their heyday.  My mother even made a stint at Studio 54 back in the day.  So there I was in my internal conversation....scared to death that others might recognize my geek-ness and want nothing to do with me. Perhaps I should leave the bar and go home and google the word "geek" so I could assume responsibility and then act accordingly.  As I headed towards the loo to analyse myself better in a mirror and to check if the potential tears that might be streaming down my face as this conversation transpired I noticed the labeling jerk that referred to me in such a perplexing manner was pointing and laughing. As were two of his friends.  Had I a note posted on my back just like the horrendous middle school years?  I felt the top of my back and it felt relatively void of any signs.  Then I noticed that my dear friend was also laughing. Perhaps I tucked my dress into my pantyhose? Not that it has ever happened before (ok maybe once or twice).  That was a negative as I would most certainly felt the breeze.  So just what was it. I demanded to know.  I walked back to the crowd of hecklers and received my comical answer.

The men that were invading our clique were doing an experiment to see if a woman would be insulted by childhood insults and for what reason I have no idea other than my possible assumption that they might be dipping a little too low in their Sailor Jerry bottles?  Nonetheless I did what every girl that gets punked does.  I took the drink closest to my left hand and dumped it clean over the head of this geek and called him just as such.

If I'm a geek then its certainly chic!

Are You Mine?

Its never certain whether or not you can take the plunge and thumbtack a guy as your own.  After spending the evening watching "He's Just Not That Into You" I firmly suggest you get your ass to the theater and learn a lesson.  This movie was spot on with translation the inner-workings of a man's brain. And trust me we all need this feature more readily available to us. I myself often times struggle to interpret just what the opposite sex is throwing my way.  My recent transition period has left me in the tidal wave of interaction.  To be honest its really premature and very foreign. My typical understanding of when a guy behaves a certain way that is unfamiliar is to ignore the lifeblood out of him, delete his number, ignore his texts, emails etc and hope to God he assumes you dead.  Lately and now more so because it matters I find myself utilizing these tactics because I am insecure as to what I see. I am not sure if the color is orange or blue.....I am seeing things.

So here is the story.  We have a man who peaks our interest.  He does the dog and pony show; dinner, drinks, movie etc.  You don't like him at all and then he starts to call you almost hourly to see "what are you up to?"  The simple answer to this question could be contrived to be "not much since 5 minutes ago my darling.." but you kindly play into it because you put yourself in his shoes and would not like rejection .  However at the end of the day you look at your mobile call log and you realize that you took 2 of his calls, missed 3 and have 9 ignores.  What does this man want from you that is so detrimental to your iPhone battery?  Really?  I mean he had you for several dates and its pretty obvious that he is on the winning track and the BOOM he becomes the police calling every time you go outside your house arrest boundaries.  

When you finally start to notice the hairs on the floor in your bathroom you are losing at a jackrabbit's pace and come to understand that the reason why this is all happening is because this man is literally and figuratively stalking you.  Where is the fine line between the affection that you desire and the desire for a restraining order. I mean don't get me wrong this has yet to happen to me.....I am sincerely convinced this is all due to the fact that I tend to intimidate all men, nonetheless this is something that happens and its a concern.  So back to the hair on the floor and the dead battery you wonder just what its going to take before you have to put your foot down?  

So you give the guy a call for the first time in your life...ring...ring...ring.  No answer. The bastard who calls you all day long did not answer the phone.  Do you leave a message? No way. So you made the call with the utmost certainty that when he gets a hold of the phone wherever it might be (where might it be) he will call you straight away.  But he doesn't.....and for the whole entire day you are "WTFfing" this guy.  He called the crap out of you and now that you want to get a hold of him NADA!  A day goes by, two, four, six days 45 minutes and 3 seconds......NO CALLS!  Where the hell, what the hell, who the hell is this guy doing? He was all in your business less than a week ago and the minute you call this character he cannot have the decency to return your phone calls?  Why? What went wrong? Things were so great. He took me to dinner. He bought me drinks. He took me to the movies. Things were so great. Things were great, right?  Is it because he does not think he is good enough for me? Am I not good enough for him?  STOP! 

What has happened to you? You have become a hot mess.  You miss him?  The guy that called you 90+ times a day.  He annoyed the crap out of you....you could not get away from him fast enough and now he is being really mean? Why? BECAUSE HE IS NOT INTO YOU!  And here you were thinking the guy was your personal puppet. You took and took from him and then he was gone the minute you wanted to reciprocate (which let's be honest that is not what you had in mind but whatever. A complete 180 later the guy is not into you and there is no way he belongs to you.  See the minute you give a man a skoach of attention he takes off like a migratory bird in the winter. And you are left wondering what you did wrong when there is a key factor right in front of you. .......want to guess just what it was? You never liked him.  Not even a bit. You took pity on him. You were calling him to ask him to be less over-bearing and then he flipped a switch.

Conclusion. Men have the attention span of staple removers. They are on you for second and then the move right on to the next task.  Its not you its their genetic makeup that causes them to behave this way. And trust me they all do the same things the same way. The only thing that changes are the clothes and the cologne.  You do not want this man as your own. Don't forget that..  Its not you girl its him.  Don't let that bullshit game get in your head.   5 weeks from now 

when he remembers how great you were and calls you; you can hit the ignore button on your phone as you are cozying up in the arms of the dude you actually wanted to be with...he's a Celts fan anyway....old guy was down with the 76'ers....yuck!

I've Lost The Chip On My Shoulder

I refer to sex as man sex nowadays because woman sex is different.  Woman sex is sex that is actually decent and man sex is just that; performed unsightly by a man. Sex should always make a woman scream. When we are loud gentlemen that typically means that we enjoy it and for the most obvious reasons we really want you to know that we like it so that you take mental notes as to just what it is that you managed to pull off and hope to all the stars in the sky you remember so going forward its on par or above at the very least. We have set the bar and this is the height you must reach to ride this amusement.

As a single girl there are many different types of sex that you can have. But when its the type of sex that you have where you let your hair down, lost the chip on your shoulder,  grow older with every moment of its happening and feel fulfilled you retain that memory. Its potent; it maintains beauty and mystique. You never forget the person who made you feel this way. Whether it was someone of a long term situation or just perhaps a significant rendezvous there is no doubt that you know who they are. You can remember every sensuous moment and those memories last a lifetime.  As a woman you muse "how did I get here; how do I move forward from its moment. Is life over...or is this just a rebirth?"   As I stand here the world my stage I wonder is it time for me; a sexual baptism?

Valentine's Day Massacre

There are those of us who thoroughly enjoy the Valentine's Day holiday and there are those of use who loathe it. And I being a lover of the date was all too happy to enjoy the fruits of its labor and fully intended to dress up and have a great night with some friends. Barely knowing what the night had in store for me I started my day with a morning pilates session followed by an afternoon relaxing massage. Once it was time I made my self up and headed over to a friends for a lovely evening....or so it seemed. Once there I immediately realized the cosmos were not in our favor as her son was not well and was purging precipitously down her clothing thrice. In a sea of regurgitation we attempted to keep the positive mentality going but it was not soon later that I too was fallen ill. In a twist of fate was rushing home for what felt like my last waking breath. It was not soon later that I was making parental phone calls and begging for assistance as I spent the night on the cold and damp floor of my rest. Not less than several hours later I recall being hooked to several tubes in an urgent care facility with an insurmountable pain which come to find out was a frightful swelling of internal organs.

Without the right attention could have been severely detrimental to my fate. And spending the time taking care of myself was most important. While I lied on the cold gurney I felt scared and alone for the first time in my life. I being the person who always encouraged those around me that going it alone was the most successful way of dealing with reality was at an emotional cross roads. It was not soon after that I realized I was not the only one who was ill rather several others were suffering from that party in the same situation. Now we are all sealed to the same miserable fate of gatoraid and popsicles (avoiding the reds and oranges) and liquids including the treacherous chicken broth and other mundane fluids. Why at this juncture in my day do I so desire something so simple as a grilled cheese sandwich?

As I lie in bed waxing my fate for a labor day ahead I prey that I will recover and that the souls infected with the same tragic lethargy are cured most quickly. I would not wish this on my worst.

Feel The Rush

So we all thoroughly enjoyed the bit of warmer weather experienced over the past weekend. I know that I was totally excited to get outside and hit the trails. It was invigorating really. While I was enjoying the white powder of Vermont I think about a man I recently encountered which reminded me of a different kind of white powder.....because he must have been on crack.

Two weekends past I went for a girls night. And we had quite a night traipsing from venue to venue with no regard for anyone other than the impending company. Until, CRAZY FROG lept out from the rock under which he came from seeing me as little more than a tasty meal fly. I was scared. As I sat on my stool aka observation perch this man took it upon himself to slide my way in the hopes for GOD only knows what. So there I was enjoying my 5th drink of the day. I was definitely feeling no pain but senses were on high alert...you can't make this shit up.....because it went just like this.

"Hi, my name is Mike and I've been noticing you stare at me all night long so I thought I would take a moment to come by and tell you how beautiful you are. I want to tell you a little bit about myself. I am a school teacher in the Providence School Department. I have two children and I am recently living with my parents until I get back on my feet. But you are really beautiful can I get your number? What is your name again?"

Can we see the obvious blunder here. First of all you need to visualize the fact that while this man was way to close into my personal space he spit all over my face as he carefully attempted to mask his blatant lisp. They must call him Mr. Raincoat at school. He immediately gave me the family and career role call unannounced to me. He was so concerned about divulging his personal business that he never managed to ask me my name. And let's be direct here; I was not staring at him.....I don't stare and I would have only looked in his direction as a result of his stark similarity to ET. So what was I to do.........KILL HIM DEAD.....and it went like this........

"Hi I'm Alissa as you so rudely forgot to ask. I am a Bank Manager at a large European firm. I have no children, I own my own home. I am firmly planted on my own two feet. Now if you will please excuse me I have to go Purell my face....you spit all over it......Mark."

And his reply went as such.

"Ok that's cool. Go clean up. When you get back I want your number."

Again, you can't make this shit up..........so I go to the loo with the hope the earth will open and swallow this man whole so that I never have to see him ever again. So just as I leave the loo I see this man staking me out. Do I go back into the crowd or do I skulk through the dance floor and out the front door. Skulking is always fun....lets do that.

So I make my way towards the door hoping to not trip over my own feet when I am face to face with "Mike" again. And here we go.........

"So Alisha.....did you think about giving me your number. We would look so great together....you are really pretty...you will like my children. You look like you would be good with kids."

And I really did not know what to do next.....so I just started to scream at the top of my lungs "GOOOOOOO AWAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And he was like "WHYYYY??????"

And I had to "YOU HAVE HERPES!"

And it was at that point I realized; I know too many people in this state. Monday morning someone in my building asked me why I yelled "herpes" in the bar.

I want to shoot myself. I'm never drinking again. Stupid crack head!

Sweet Miss Blue

How do you do? Sorry, I know its late. Sorry, but I can't wait............

I am truly delayed in my submissions for best of reasons however I will tell you that my attempts of getting the time to write are marginal at best. And for all those luscious lovers out there I do not think it would be fair and equitable if I did not spend a bit of time shredding the holiday which those loathe so ardently. Alas, those sentiments will be bereft in my musings....I love all things red. Valentine's Day is not about chocolate (as I live and breathe at the gym), its not about flowers (especially roses which exude the funeral home death knell) rather its about the color red. And to commemorate the festive occasion of holiday card drivel and poorly prepared meals, wrapping paper covered in conversation hearts, dinner reservations, false attempts at affection etc I prefer the red. Red is the color of blood. Its the color of wine and its the color of my shoe bottoms (hint hint wink wink nod it you love CL) and I fully intend to dress to the nines in my favorite hue and enjoy the fact that its acceptable to blast off into a rouge orbit without regard. The best part is when people become visually offended by the lucid co mingling of shades as ominously as possible with the ultimate goal of kitsch. I love Valentine's Day. While my ass has successfully steered clear of any arrows (as its too tight and firm to wield such an object) I still hold the day in highest regard.

So this Valentine's Day you are mostly likely to spot me at the Whole Foods @ U.Heights strutting down the aisles, making frivolous purchases of truffle butter and fig spread for no apparent reason drenched in the plethora of crimson thoroughly ignoring the lingering lovers perplexed as to whether or not to make Tempeh or Tofu while my palate intends making sweet love to my jar of Nutella and French Baguette bed feast....at my own expense. Don't be jealous; of my accompanying Chateau LeFit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ahahahah. Happy V-Day Everyone!