Hitting too close to home

New York Magazine runs a weekly column of New Yorkers diary documenting their relationship successes and mishaps. Apparently I wrote this week's column without knowing...

7:32 a.m.: As punishment for not trying to see me between then and now, I decide to tease him with a killer outfit. Looking perfect would be too obvious, but I leave the apartment pretty pleased with myself.

11:30 a.m.: Last time I cared how a specific guy thought I looked was for a frat boy my junior year of college. Usually I make a point of deleting guys' phone numbers at the smallest sign they're not perfect; co-worker is shockingly still in my contact list. This must be love.

11:47 a.m.: Remind myself not to let my crazy out just yet … want him to feel the same way about me first.
1:30 p.m.: Arrive at company meeting. He sits behind me, so I make whispered jokes to girl co-workers so he knows I am not only sexy but hilarious as well.

This last entry is something I would totally do. Is this something I shouldn't be admitting?

Out with the Old

Goodbye 2008! With the year coming to an end, it only seems right to make a list of New Year's resolutions. Haven't put much thought into this, but off the top of my head, I'd say my list consists of:

1. Finding a new job. (STAT)
2. Doing some volunteer work. Preferably with kids. And music.
3. Being more cultured. I had hoped to see at least one show/concert/play a month in 2008, but I failed monumentally.
4. Making five new friends. (Too ambitious?)
5. Traveling to at least two countries I've never been to before. (Or at least haven't been to in the past five years).
6. Sleeping less, exercise more.

Okay, the last one's a lie. Just thought I'd throw it in there for good measure. After rereading this, 2009 sounds like a lot of work. Who ever said being a lazy bum that contributes little to society was a bad thing?

Hello Early '90s. Nice to See You Again.

As if going back to work in the morning after a week off wasn't painful enough, I've been told that my car license has not been renewed, rendering Napoleon useless for a few days. I'll be using my aunt's car to schlep my rear around - a car whose radio refuses to work (GASP!). I'm a big fan of listening to the eff-ery that pollutes the airwaves - mainly as a source for extreme mockery and eye rolling - so I have no idea what tomorrow has in store. London Cousin, trying to help, made a few suggestions. See conversation:

London Cousin: Well, there's a tape deck. Do you have any tapes lying around?
Me: Seriously? Did you just hear the words that came out of your mouth?

True, he only JUST joined Facebook yesterday, but has he no clue that the world has progressed beyond the audio cassette? I don't know whether to spend the drive to work cursing the evil French men and women that made this joke of a car, or make mental notes of progresses our fine planet has seen in the past roughly twenty years or so. Who knows if I'll have enough energy left to do my job afterward.

Back

I'm back, Internet! Sorry to have abandoned you for a few days, but I was off gallivanting in rainy Lebanon for a family event. Beirut in the winter isn't anything to write home about, but it's always good to get out of Cairo for a while.

Highlights from the trip include a three-minute dance party in our pajamas to Sean Paul's 'Temperature,' my cousin being told she'd get "Facebooked" (the guy could have at least bought her dinner first!), and making gun pointing gestures and yelling "BOOM!" at every witty pun.

Back to the grind now, and will resume regular posting (from work, of course). Good to not be living out of a suitcase and sharing a bathroom with two other females. Now if only my cousin would get his grimy paws off my laptop...

Career Counseling by Forsoothsayer

In the course of my chat with Forsoothsayer today, she mentioned that while lathering up in the shower, she thought of the ideal job for me (who doesn't know that the best thinking happens in the bathroom, really?). Read:

Forsoothsayer: vj on mtv

Me: YES! has been dream for ages!

Forsoothsayer: involves working with kids, bad black music, and doing dance moves

My interests, perfectly summed up into one, incomplete sentence. If your cousin's sister's husband's dealer's grandmother knows anyone with the hook up, let me know.

Sitting in a Tree

O Internet, how I love thee.

The power went out at work for nearly two hours today, making the world without the Internet feel dull, lifeless and decrepit. What were people doing before the Internet? What was I doing before the Internet? Was life even worth living?

I hope my next internet-less experience is far, far off. I don't know if my weak heart can handle another episode so soon.

Service with a Smile (and much annoyance)

My hunt for new glasses came to a successful end on Friday, when Female J and Male J (of Guinea Pig fame!) helped me pick out cute little Michael Kors frames. After discussing everything under the sun with the salesman - including my "excellent" Arabic (!) - I was told that my glasses would be ready for pick up the next day. Seeing as how I was in an area of town that I rarely frequent, and sure as heck wasn't going to go to two days in a row, I asked him to please send them to the branch closer to my home. This, I was told, would not be a problem.

Today, two days later, I phoned the branch close to home to inquire if my new baby had arrived. Not surprisingly, they hadn't. A series of phone calls later, it was established that my glasses had in fact arrived from the workshop, but there was a "problem with the delivery man." I think this roughly translates into "Crap, I forgot to tell the factory to send your order to Branch X." Not wanting to pick a fight (shocking!), I told the sales rep from Friday that all was fine, but I needed the glasses no later than Tuesday because I was traveling the next day (so I lied a little...sue me. [Please don't, actually.]). He assured me that I could pick up my glasses tomorrow, "begad," (seriously) after 3 pm.

No more than two minutes later, I received another phone call saying that AT THE LATEST, "begad," my glasses would be ready on Tuesday night. GAH! Fine, fine. Pick your battles, right?

This, however, was the icing on the cake. At the end of the conversation, the salesman says:

Ahem 7aga matiz3aleesh minny. (The most important thing is that you aren't upset with me).

NO! The most important thing is that I get my glasses, DAMMIT! Crippling customer service is nothing new to this country, but this is just getting ridiculous. Maybe I need to go around yelling all the time. This seems to work for other people. The fact that I look eight probably won't help though.

Do It. Call Me 'Big Papa'

Apologies for the quality of this video, but this is a must-see ("must-see" being a relative term). I haven't for a while, but I used to tell people about this movie ALL THE TIME. If you can get over Keanu Reeve's shiz acting "skills," this movie is amazing - no doubt due to the little kiddies that make up the inner city baseball team.

Miles, the team's pitcher, can only throw strikes if he's listening to Biggie Smalls' "Big Papa." When the opposing team's coach calls him out on it, Miles' teammates break into their own version of the song - complete with dance moves!

Watch the kid at 2:38. How does one get a pre-teen to do that? Did Keanu Reeves have to demonstrate? More importantly, is there a YouTube video of it?

Must find a way to get friends to reenact this scene with me. I'll be the boy from 2:38.

Sometimes You Just Can't Win

Conversation with my mother earlier today while shopping for new glasses:

Mom: So, do you NEED to wear your glasses all the time?

Me (feeling confident): Yeah, pretty much. I mean, it's just too much of a hassle to take them on and off again at different times over the course of the day.

Mom: Well, hmm, okay. If you don't need to wear your glasses all the time, you can go for something out there.

Me: I don't really understand what you mean. And I just told you I need to wear them all the time.

Mom: Okay, then you need to look for something where we can see more of your face. Something that isn't so striking. Something where we don't look at you and only see GLASSES.

Me (not so confident): So, what you're saying is that you'd like me to pick out something without black frames.

Mom: Yes, exactly.

Me: This conversation could have lasted about four minutes less than it just did...

Happy Sheep Eating!

Happy Eid, suckers. Blog you in a few days.

U R A Dummy

Someone should really write a how-to book on text messaging. When e-mailing because the modus operandi of communication, we learned that WRITING IN CAPS WAS PROBABLY NOT THE BEST WAY TO TELL YOUR BOSS THAT YOU NEEDED TO TAKE THE DAY OFF BECAUSE YOUR GRANDMA ETHEL WAS HAVING A HYSTERECTOMY, extensive :) and ?!?!?! usage was downright annoying, and little girls in Mogadishu would not grow a third arm while simultaneously being attacked by gorillas if we didn't forward a message to eighty-six people we knew.

People have been writing whole books on how to compose the perfect e-mail for years now. We all know how to write a subject line that most clearly gets our message across in eight words or less, can tell the difference between "Regards" and "Best," and know that e-mailing your best friend about your coworker's halitosis probably should be reviewed several times to make sure it doesn't get mailed out company-wide.

Nowhere, however, has anybody told me how to develop a text message that not only depicts how incredibly witty, laid-back and easy going I am, without seeming overly anxious to actually have my phone vibrate. I need a 'Text Messaging for Dummys' book, stat.

Questions that this guide should answer include:

1. What's the appropriate length of a text message? When you run over the limit of characters allotted to the message (1), should you stop? If you have more to say than that, should you instead be making a phone call?
2. Do you always have to address the person you're texting, or can you just lead with your statement/question?
3. If you're dodging a phone call and would rather text than pick up, how long should you wait so the other person buys that you were actually away from your phone?
4. If you're trying to play it cool, how long should you wait between receiving a text and replying?
5. If someone says goodnight at the end of their text, must you reply?

Someone out there must know the answers to these questions. Help. My social life is in danger.

Long Term Goals

I've come to the conclusion that I need one of two things: a) a talent, or b) a hobby. Whichever comes first really. I'm going to a "concert" (maybe more of a show?) tonight and it has me thinking that I need to be doing something where people can say, "Hey, you know her? She's GREAT at [insert something awesome here]." I'm quite good at eating, but you never heard anyone say, "Wow, you should SEE how she twirls that spaghetti!" Suggestions welcome and encouraged.

Also, if you look to the right, you'll see that I've now started using Twitter. In addition to having this blog to distract me from doing my actual job, I have this little service to thank for keeping me up at night thinking of witty one-liners. As much as I'd like to believe though, I'm pretty sure this won't qualify as my hobby.

Crap

I wish I could ctrl + Z my agreement to translate this document.

Hot and Cold

My biggest problem this morning was figuring out how to simultaneously keep my hands under warm water while using cold water to rinse the toothpaste out of my mouth. I came disturbingly close to putting my head under the faucet.

Winter and I do not get along.