Showing posts with label Kelly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kelly. Show all posts
Monday, April 26, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Monday, November 9, 2009
Venus vs Mars: on Communication.
I mentioned that in my brief time away, I would randomly think of things I wanted to write on my blog, I'd start the post, then just save it as a draft. Well, all of those stories/snippets/I'm sorry for partying/life lessons, have turned in to a lil somethin' somethin' I'm going to call "Venus vs Mars." Why? a) When Jay-z's Blueprint 3 came out, banker and I heard that song, resolved it was written about is and geeked out about it for about 2 weeks. b) over the weeks, I have had numerous "oh, word??" moments with the Banker. You know what I'm talking about.... like, something happens that is good for the gander (read: NOT good for the goose) and ALL I can think is "Oh, wooorrrddd????" Like, this is so not gonna work. For like... me. At all.
As these little situations have come and gone, I have had time to reflect on them, on me, on girls in general. You know, all that "self-awareness" that I am learning at school (see how applicable it all is??) Figured I would share them because really as far as you know, all I do in New York is stand around taking pictures of myself in clothes/whine about being busy/listen to songs with awkward love undertones. Not (completely) true. I just hit my 100th post the other day, and figure anyone who still reads should be privy to a little more inside information. Lets see how many of you are left when I get to the 200th post.... so, here goes:
In the inaugural post of this nature, I'll hit you with the most recent.
Venus vs Mars--- Communication.
Allow me to set up the scene:
[End of September]
Whats wrong here?? In theory, nothing at all. In fact, I'll give the boy snaps for picking up on the mini freak out I had when he mentioned "Cabo" (in my defense, I think it was a reflex! Seriously, though...who the eff is like, "hey, boy-I-wanna-date, please, run as fast as you can to Sodom and Gamorrah-- no worries here." Please.) In the conversation above, indeed: Whats Good for the Goose, is Good for the Gander.
Lets come back to this little scenario: [last week]
sidebar: This is about day 12 of mess. Schedules are all over the place, he's doing ~60hrs a week, I'm waking at 5:00am and going to bed at 1:00am. It's an all around sucky crap-tastic time.
[here is the 10 minute window of angry silence that translates as "no text back"]
And: I promptly call SM, which is crazy because I don't like talking on the phone. Mid-SOS phone call the Banker Beeps in.
We talked, we mended. All is well. But let me break it down:
*Boys and Girls are different. Very different. Not the same at all. And sometimes, no matter how wonderful everything else is, the fundamentals can get a little messy. Take communication: Banker figured I remembered he took vacation in November. Yea, I remember him saying it, but I had no clue in real life. Me, I wanna know things like "Hey, I'm thinking of going on holiday, ________ week" or "I just got tickets for vacation!" Little update are nice. Being in the loop is GOOD FOR THE GOOSE. If the Goose is happy, the Gander is happy! Isn't this a basic concept?
The only way this is even remotely tolerable, aside from my ride-or-die girls, is the Banker himself. I am fortunate to have a nice boy like the banker. The little (and not so little) hiccups are made that much easier because he isn't a jackass. In fact, most of the time when these Venus vs. Mars differences occur, I am ready to peace out. I'm a quitter sometimes, I'll confess. My friends (who are all "team Banker" as they so readily remind me) are quick to give me some perspective: Good guys are few and far between. Banker is no angel-- but he always tries. I means, lets be honest, I'm not Sandra Dee. I'm more of a Rizzo. And that can be a lot of fun, until it's not fun anymore more, I'm sure. Basically, the only way to fight is to fight fair, and, a lot of the time, all a girl needs to here is "I'm sorry." It seriously wins 1/2 the battle. So, take that little pearl (little brother of mine, I know you're reading...)
I share this story specifically because I know how to do a lot of things, and the things I can't do, I can fake it til I make it. Except for dating. I don't do it. It's like, pointless and annoying and I can't stay still long enough to bother with it all. So I've just played the game my own way for the past 4 years or so. I'm Boss Bitch at being single, complete 5th grader at dating. I remember before I moved, good ole Grace told me that as soon as I met a guy that was worth it I'd give in a little. And, as my friend Kells would say "You're little ice box is more of a slushie now." I think about one of the final scenes in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and how his heart great 3x bigger after hearing the people of Who-ville sing. Not comparing myself to the Grinch, obviously I'm not out dicking people over, left and right.... I guess I wanna find the happy medium between Boss Bitch and Stupid Girls, and I suppose now is a good time to figure it out.
As these little situations have come and gone, I have had time to reflect on them, on me, on girls in general. You know, all that "self-awareness" that I am learning at school (see how applicable it all is??) Figured I would share them because really as far as you know, all I do in New York is stand around taking pictures of myself in clothes/whine about being busy/listen to songs with awkward love undertones. Not (completely) true. I just hit my 100th post the other day, and figure anyone who still reads should be privy to a little more inside information. Lets see how many of you are left when I get to the 200th post.... so, here goes:
In the inaugural post of this nature, I'll hit you with the most recent.
Venus vs Mars--- Communication.
Allow me to set up the scene:
[End of September]
Me: Banker, my schedule in November is totally erratic. I'm going home the first weekend for a wedding, my mom's gonna come up for like a week, You know, I'll leave for Thanksgiving....
Banker: How do you fill up your whole November when it's September?
Me: I don't know... but we're like, never gonna see each other.
Banker: It will be fine, I usually go on Vacation in November, this year I'm thinking Barbados, maybe Cabo.
Me: What.
Banker: I'm not going to forget about you because I'm going on vacation.
Whats wrong here?? In theory, nothing at all. In fact, I'll give the boy snaps for picking up on the mini freak out I had when he mentioned "Cabo" (in my defense, I think it was a reflex! Seriously, though...who the eff is like, "hey, boy-I-wanna-date, please, run as fast as you can to Sodom and Gamorrah-- no worries here." Please.) In the conversation above, indeed: Whats Good for the Goose, is Good for the Gander.
Lets come back to this little scenario: [last week]
sidebar: This is about day 12 of mess. Schedules are all over the place, he's doing ~60hrs a week, I'm waking at 5:00am and going to bed at 1:00am. It's an all around sucky crap-tastic time.
Me: Banker, I'm gonna be up for another couple of hours, you wanna call me here now in a few so I can take a break. (a text, obviously)
Banker: Can we talk tomorrow?? I'm half way to being asleep..... I'm sorry, Goodnight babe.
[here is the 10 minute window of angry silence that translates as "no text back"]
Banker: ?? hello?
Me: well, you know I'm going home on Thursday, and when I get back my mom is here for the week. I have no clue when we're gonna hang out, what, in December? [this is the blog-better version of my text back. the REAL one was full brat mode. but, for self-preservation, I've edited it. At least I admitted it though....]
Banker: I'm going to Barbados next week.
And: I promptly call SM, which is crazy because I don't like talking on the phone. Mid-SOS phone call the Banker Beeps in.
We talked, we mended. All is well. But let me break it down:
*Boys and Girls are different. Very different. Not the same at all. And sometimes, no matter how wonderful everything else is, the fundamentals can get a little messy. Take communication: Banker figured I remembered he took vacation in November. Yea, I remember him saying it, but I had no clue in real life. Me, I wanna know things like "Hey, I'm thinking of going on holiday, ________ week" or "I just got tickets for vacation!" Little update are nice. Being in the loop is GOOD FOR THE GOOSE. If the Goose is happy, the Gander is happy! Isn't this a basic concept?
The only way this is even remotely tolerable, aside from my ride-or-die girls, is the Banker himself. I am fortunate to have a nice boy like the banker. The little (and not so little) hiccups are made that much easier because he isn't a jackass. In fact, most of the time when these Venus vs. Mars differences occur, I am ready to peace out. I'm a quitter sometimes, I'll confess. My friends (who are all "team Banker" as they so readily remind me) are quick to give me some perspective: Good guys are few and far between. Banker is no angel-- but he always tries. I means, lets be honest, I'm not Sandra Dee. I'm more of a Rizzo. And that can be a lot of fun, until it's not fun anymore more, I'm sure. Basically, the only way to fight is to fight fair, and, a lot of the time, all a girl needs to here is "I'm sorry." It seriously wins 1/2 the battle. So, take that little pearl (little brother of mine, I know you're reading...)
I share this story specifically because I know how to do a lot of things, and the things I can't do, I can fake it til I make it. Except for dating. I don't do it. It's like, pointless and annoying and I can't stay still long enough to bother with it all. So I've just played the game my own way for the past 4 years or so. I'm Boss Bitch at being single, complete 5th grader at dating. I remember before I moved, good ole Grace told me that as soon as I met a guy that was worth it I'd give in a little. And, as my friend Kells would say "You're little ice box is more of a slushie now." I think about one of the final scenes in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and how his heart great 3x bigger after hearing the people of Who-ville sing. Not comparing myself to the Grinch, obviously I'm not out dicking people over, left and right.... I guess I wanna find the happy medium between Boss Bitch and Stupid Girls, and I suppose now is a good time to figure it out.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Halloween Woes.
I'm so bad at Halloween. Selecting a costume is difficult and like, having fun is a struggle too. Don't get me wrong, I'm effing fun as hell, but something about Halloween just kills me. I think this is why I always had a hard time getting on board with themed Pi Phi functions. I never knew what to wear/ didn't want to wear it. So, obviously last night was Halloween, and my friend KB decided to have a party at her apartment because her sister, as well as many of her friends from undergrad were in town.
Now, it's not like Halloween can just sneak up on you. Obviously its on Oct. 31, and every place on earth has seasonal swag everywhere. Why I wait until 7:00pm on Halloween night to look for a costume is beyond me. Couple that with the level of mayhem in the city because its gang initiation week and Saturday was the last night of it all. Needless to say, wandering around looking for a costume in the dark by myself wasn't really an option.
So, the banker came by after he got on work around 4:00 and we caught some of the Wake Forest v Miami game while I took a break from school work and he more or less napped on the couch. This turned into Nap Time At The Hargett's-- and here I am, take a nap, mid day, when I really have like, oh, a million things I need to do. Now, banker doesn't "do' Halloween after 29 years of NYC living, he's not up for the shenanigans that the night inevitably produces (man after my own heart, but i digress...)
We leave my house around 7, he is heading to the 116th street bus stop and I decide that to find a costume I should go to the only place I ever want to go for anything-- Rite Aid. I can't explain my relationship with it. Everything there is more expensive, they don't even have what I'm looking for 1/2 the time. The real grocery store is 1 more block away and there are bodegas, 99 cent stores (real popular up here), and liquor store in like a 3 block radius, but I am die hard Rite Aid! There was no costume in there. All they had left were fake severed limbs. I thought if worse comes to worse I could just wear some clothes, carry the fake bloody leg around and be a cannibal or something. Yup, a cannibal. That's the upper limit of my creativity. I buy beer and head home.
I immediately start dissecting my closet (and E's closet or that matter) and have come up with bits and pieces to make up costumes, but each suffered from the inevitable "if only I'd planned earlier....." crisis, and were discarded. While digging for a baseball cap I stumbled across my apron. You know, the one I own for when I cook (and y'all know I don't really cook like that....) Back to my closet.
I find my fishnets. over sized pearls. over sized button earrings. cardigan.... mary janes.... hum. what can I make..... OK, now for the back story:
my friends and I up here are all in a very interesting boat. All of us have a "somebody" in our lives, and up until last week, only Kelly was official. You know, an actual wifey. All of us joke about how we're just tryin to get that wifey status or how we want the "somebody" to become Superboo one day (Superboo-- download Kid Cudi song with same title). Clearly I haven't divulged much about me and the banker as of lately, but I can say that we are still in the "you're somebody" stage.
OK. Back to the front story:
I'm talking to Kelly at the time about how much Halloween sucks and costumes are confusing etc. I tell her what I have as possibilities. Conversation.
so, I guess that solved that. and thus my costume was born. KB's visiting friend Jess gave it an official title "Can't turn a Ho into a Housewife"Fitting title for many reasons, but mainly because after many adult beverages my costume lost the skirt portion. in the official sense-- I still had the apron on....
So here are a couple very sloppy pictures. I'll add the pants-less one for your viewing pleasures as soon as whoever camera it's on sends it.
Me, KB, and Tomas playin around in front of the camera.
Myself and darling Tomas. He is officer Dangle from Reno 911
Me and Kelly finally pull of some sort of costume and pose for a picture.
There it is, me, and my new favorite Bud Light Golden Wheat. Big Pearls and all.
Now, it's not like Halloween can just sneak up on you. Obviously its on Oct. 31, and every place on earth has seasonal swag everywhere. Why I wait until 7:00pm on Halloween night to look for a costume is beyond me. Couple that with the level of mayhem in the city because its gang initiation week and Saturday was the last night of it all. Needless to say, wandering around looking for a costume in the dark by myself wasn't really an option.
So, the banker came by after he got on work around 4:00 and we caught some of the Wake Forest v Miami game while I took a break from school work and he more or less napped on the couch. This turned into Nap Time At The Hargett's-- and here I am, take a nap, mid day, when I really have like, oh, a million things I need to do. Now, banker doesn't "do' Halloween after 29 years of NYC living, he's not up for the shenanigans that the night inevitably produces (man after my own heart, but i digress...)
We leave my house around 7, he is heading to the 116th street bus stop and I decide that to find a costume I should go to the only place I ever want to go for anything-- Rite Aid. I can't explain my relationship with it. Everything there is more expensive, they don't even have what I'm looking for 1/2 the time. The real grocery store is 1 more block away and there are bodegas, 99 cent stores (real popular up here), and liquor store in like a 3 block radius, but I am die hard Rite Aid! There was no costume in there. All they had left were fake severed limbs. I thought if worse comes to worse I could just wear some clothes, carry the fake bloody leg around and be a cannibal or something. Yup, a cannibal. That's the upper limit of my creativity. I buy beer and head home.
I immediately start dissecting my closet (and E's closet or that matter) and have come up with bits and pieces to make up costumes, but each suffered from the inevitable "if only I'd planned earlier....." crisis, and were discarded. While digging for a baseball cap I stumbled across my apron. You know, the one I own for when I cook (and y'all know I don't really cook like that....) Back to my closet.
I find my fishnets. over sized pearls. over sized button earrings. cardigan.... mary janes.... hum. what can I make..... OK, now for the back story:
my friends and I up here are all in a very interesting boat. All of us have a "somebody" in our lives, and up until last week, only Kelly was official. You know, an actual wifey. All of us joke about how we're just tryin to get that wifey status or how we want the "somebody" to become Superboo one day (Superboo-- download Kid Cudi song with same title). Clearly I haven't divulged much about me and the banker as of lately, but I can say that we are still in the "you're somebody" stage.
OK. Back to the front story:
I'm talking to Kelly at the time about how much Halloween sucks and costumes are confusing etc. I tell her what I have as possibilities. Conversation.
Me "I mean I just have these big ass pearls and you know, some bourgie clothes"
Kelly " I have a gold mask if you wanna borrow it."
Me "And what would I be?"
Kelly "I don't know."
Me "dammit. I'm just gonna dress like a housewife, put on this apron and go as Wifey. I mean, Halloween is supposed to be about playing make-believe, and all, right"
Kelly " OMG. I Die. That's hilarious. Get dressed and get over here."
so, I guess that solved that. and thus my costume was born. KB's visiting friend Jess gave it an official title "Can't turn a Ho into a Housewife"Fitting title for many reasons, but mainly because after many adult beverages my costume lost the skirt portion. in the official sense-- I still had the apron on....
So here are a couple very sloppy pictures. I'll add the pants-less one for your viewing pleasures as soon as whoever camera it's on sends it.
Me, KB, and Tomas playin around in front of the camera.
Myself and darling Tomas. He is officer Dangle from Reno 911
Me and Kelly finally pull of some sort of costume and pose for a picture.
There it is, me, and my new favorite Bud Light Golden Wheat. Big Pearls and all.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Top Weekend
Oh... and yes, SM met the banker. He hung out on Friday night for a long while and again on Saturday. He had nothing but positives to say about her (but who could have anything negative to say?!) and I certainly hope she liked him too, but if she didn't I know she will tell me. Thats the beauty of real friends, you know how big a deal it is to introduce them to a boy because the real friends will keep it funky with you and have no problem saying "Girl don't date that guy" if they get red flags, whether they are superficial or deep rooted problems, your homegirls always know. I'm not sweatin over here though. He has won E's approval and all of my city friends can't get enough of him... so, we'll see, right?
I can't believe it's Monday already... I'm still exhausted from last week :( I'll be back to blogging this week now that I've got myself on an excellent schedule (I think)
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
We will call him "the banker"
What is my life right now?!
oh my gossshhh.
So around 4 I get a text from the banker seeing if I am free for a quick drink. He explains that he is going to New Jersey for a football game on Thursday, and even though we have plans for Friday, he is anxious and would love to get together both today (Wednesday) and Fri.
Meanwhile, on campus the school of social work is having a cocktail thing (for whatever reason) and E had a date tonight as well with a guy she met downtown early last week--- needless to say, I was feeling a little overwhelmed and conflicted. E assures me that this is NOT the prom, she doesn't need me to see her off and give me the a-OK to go on with The banker.
I end up agreeing to meet him (but first went by my new friends Kim and Kellys apt to borrow eye liner, eye shadow and perfume) before meeting him at this bar call The Heights which between 111th and 112th and Broadway. The banker is coming straight from work so he is still in a suit and he looks adorable! We go in, he orders us drinks (margaritas, tequila shots) and dinner and we hang and talk for 3 hours (wtfffff). The convo was totally natural and I let him PDA me at the table (and ya'll know I don't do that shit). He thinks I'm so Southern and its fascinating , and all I can think is " I'm so not a southern girl." Which made me realize that southern girls would fare well in terms of meeting boys in the city. They seem to love the complexities that is the Southern Girl DNA.
He is such a perfect gentleman and so much EXACTLY what I'm looking for... like, omg. It's insane. He took me home, walked me inside of my first locked door and you know... hhaha ahhhhh!!! The night ended perfectly!
So, for the curious: hes 29. went to college in Long Island, was born and raised in the upper westside. He's Puerto Rican (can I get a yum?!) and about 6ft tall.
We still have our date set for Friday, where we're planning on dinner and a movie at the theatre down by where I stay. The cutest thing is that tonight he kept asking about my friends, family, college and hometown life, as if he could sense the important roll all of those people and places play for me. And in addition, he was so looking forward to watching ACC football and curious about March Madness and UNC basketball. Um.... look at him making future plans and being all up in my grill, trying to know my life.
It's so exciting because for the first time in a very long time I am going to let myself be open and willing to go with it, the whole having a crush and acting on it. Needless to say, I 'm totally smitten. I'll keep you posted on the banker. def.
Also, don't get all pumped about this wide open post. I'm twisted off drinks and loving the fact that I can DUI it on foot. So, just know, if I wasn't drinking, ya'll wouldn't get privy to any of this-- -especially not via a midnight posting!
hhaha the end!
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