Funny Of The Week.

thanks to Nick J. (Jhani's Beau) for the funny video.... literally dead everytime I watch it.

Impromptu Piercing.

After seeing a play in the West Village on Saturday night, I decided to get a little addition.... in the form of my 11th piercing. Ah. I think it's cute and it's healing well. Here's to spontaneity!

Sorry for Partying.

This note was left, presumably for E, after Morgs passed out in our bathroom floor. The story that lead up to this is epic, and I need a couple of days to get all the details straight, but.... DC-Meg, K.beau, Morgs and myself were all the way turnt up last weekend... story coming soon!

2010 SSW Gala.

Rope-A-Dope

Rope-A-Dope-- refers to a boxing technique made famous by M. Ali. The idea is that he would get into a defensive stance and let's his opponent beat him up. The opponent would think he was winning because of all the landed hits. Meanwhile Ali is posted up, waiting for the other guy to get tired, then he comes off the ropes, K.O's the other guy and its a rap.

I like that idea and it's an applicable like approach as well. However, in this situation...I'm the fucking other guy...and I got Ali-ed.

My sister E met a boy in January. This was delightful to me because I figured once she was occupied and entertained the focus on my unconventional 'relationship' with the banker would no longer be in the spot light.

So she sends me a BBM in the class we have together: 'what are you doing Friday at 9'

Side bar: the correct way to answer this question is "why?" If you're like me and say "mmm...nada, what's up" you are already saying yes to whatever the plan is. See how I don't have any defenses up? See how my ass is just runnin around the ring all willy-nilly like I don't need to protect my face!

Ok, so she then asks me if I'll go bowling at the spot in Harlem. She explains that her new boo is bringing his buddy from college and he asked E to bring a friend too. She then explained that she really wanted me to get to know her lil boo better and it was gonna mean a lot to her if I went.

So, I say yes because I am dumb and because I love E. I make it very clear that I want the guy-friend to know that I am there as E's sister. Not as nobody's date. I don't go on dates like that. And, if I did? Trust. It wouldn't be a blind one to go bowling.

So the Friday night rolls around and we head to the spot. I'm not sure what to wear because E keeps insisting it's 'totally casual. Real chill'. So I put on a black v-neck tee. Skinny jeans, my fucking Nikes... And for good measure I put on a nicer cardigan and, like real make-up. E is wearing like, boots, and a nice coat and like, I'm thinking, whatever....this is HER date. I'm here to like.... Bowl.

Went we get there I see E's boo and he explains that his friend... Is in the bathroom. we'll call my date "Elliott"

When Elliott does appear I do the mental filing that every person on earth does when they meet someone of the opposite sex:
My thoughts went like this---
'Hum...tall, nice clothes. Not that hot. Sort of not fit. Probably very nice. I def. Could never date him.... I don't wanna even bang it out.... Category: after tonight I'll never see this kid again.'

Seems shallow, but act like that's now how it really happens.

I am immediately played when I meet him. He says something to effect of "it isn't often I get to take beautiful girls out... Of course its on me."

What.

This is a 'taking me out' why the fucckkkk is this a date?

This bowling alley was the kind of place that had a full bar in it. E and I go and buy the first round. So all 4 of us re having a beer, getting ready to bowl and Elliott and I start making small talk. As I we chat I realize a few things. 1- He has a great personality. 2- He isn't "ugly". He's more teddy bear cute. 3- I am on a date. Personality is my kryptonite. I am a sucker for a good vibe. I'm also a natural born flirt and, contrary to popular belief, I am really freakin nice.... so it pretty clear how this is going to go down.

To quicken this story I'll hit up the highlights:

- I start drinking like a fish because Elliott is stressing me out. For ever compliment he dished, cheap feel he copped, and follow-up date he arranged, I drank. So much that after the 2 hour bowling session I'd had 7-8 beers. The boys? they had 1. E? she had 3.

- So now I'm that drunk girl, talkin shit, getting belig. Cussing every time I roll a gutter ball, talking shit to Elliott and E's date, etc.

- Elliott make a bet that if I out score him, he picks our next date, and if he outscores me, I pick it. my response is "well. I guess I respect your hustle, Elliott." What.

- He keeps on getting hugs and has me sit on his knee like I'm some kind of child. I don't sit on nobody's knee and all that close talking is weird.

- He asks me if I have a boyfriend. I say "no....but I'm not single either." I pulled the Eyrkah Badu Next Life Time intro move "... you know, I'm in a situation...." He responds that he is up for the challenge. In life if he sees something he likes, He'll go after it. And he is more than ready to make my #1 disappear. What.

-When we leave bowling he is walking with me in the street. I am trying to BBM my friends/ text the banker a fast as possible. he then HOLDS MY HAND AND PUTS IT INSIDE OF HIS COAT POCKET FOR WARMTH. I want to puke all over him at this point. a) you're trying to keep me from texting. Yes is rude, but you don't need to be trying to regulate my behavior, guy. b) you're holding my hand inside your pocket and it's gross.

- We get to this bar and E realizes she left her tab open at the bowling alley. So she and her boo go back to get it. And I am just there, drunk.

- As I mentioned before, he has a good personality. So, I tell him I'm really hungry, since I drank my dinner at the bowling alley. We go to his car and head to the IHOP in Harlem.

- On the way he keeps referring to me as "his perfect Clair Huxtable." what. That is fucking weird. You don't know me.

- He keeps making references to me as his future wifey. "...lets say, you and I get married...." And he keeps pouring compliments on me. All I can think is "this wasn't supposed to be a date."

- He was weird about food. I order a fat Omelet and he gets pancakes. He doesn't use the butter and he askes for sugar-free syrup. Not a problem at all.... but he kept like talking about it. Things like "I've been back in the gym lately" or "if you and I have kids, we'll have to make sure they are active in sports because their daddy has big genes." whyyyy.

The end of the night:

We leave IHOP after a good conversation, and a part of me is sorry that I can't/won't date this kid. A small, small part.

He tells me that he'd like to take me out again on Feb. 19th. Somewhere downtown for jazz, and he let me know upfront that he was comfortable being #2 right now and that he was working for the #1 spot. That made my skin crawl. I felt like Carrie in the episode when she and Miranda are trying on ugly wedding dresses, and because Carrie doesn't really want to marry Aiden she has the aaa (acute anxiety attack) and has to rip the dress off. I NEVER confirmed these dates. I NEVER did anything to make him think I was in to him. I treated him like I treat all my platonic relationships. I swear.

We get to my house and I tell him good night. He insists on walking me to my door. I am dying. At the door he starts in on the speech about how great the night was, etc. I give him some awkward hug and try to slip in my door. He has my arm and pull me back. DIE.

He gives me a kiss on the cheek and I return it. I don't even know why. Then he goes for ANOTHER kiss on the cheek-fake-out and tried to fucking kiss me. Here's where shit gets real.

I PUT MY HAND OUT TO HALT HIM. (read: sp awkward and unpleasant for everyone.) and I am visible shaking my hand and I may or may not have been hand gesturing to him as well. Here is me: "No, no, no, no, no. No, Elliott. No. No." Really, Sesh? Like.... seriously?

He then proceeds to beg me. Yup. Shameless begging " Please.... Please, just one Kiss? Please."

Me: (more hand gestures) No Elliott. No..... but, I had a great night, drive home safe!" POOF: I disappear into my building feeling all icky and sick.

Then the texts, and calls begin. I find out that this "date" on the 19th is actually his birthday. Who asks a stranger who isn't that into you to be the birthday date? I spend most of the week ignoring the calls and responding to the text as seldom as possible. It gets worse when I find out from E that Elliot told E's boy that he felt like we had a major connection and really clicked. What. What. Whatttttt is this!?

"Elliott, No." Is the new punchline between me, my sister and my Mom. It's the 2010 version of "Scotty, Don't" that SM and RSJ coined in 2007.

Thing is, I don't know how to get out of the date on the 19th. Yea, thats on Friday. I don't want to be a bitch, but I am not going. I like, cannot go. I feel so bad that my drunk ass somehow made this boy feel like he'd met his future wife. Even worse.... if he didn't lay it on so thick and scare me so much we could have at least been friends. my best guy friend Karl is going to be in town on the 19th, so I'm hoping I can somehow use that as a valid get-out-of-date-free card.

In this scenario, I am the dope. All night I thought I was runnin things. And end the end I got knocked the fuck out.

Week In Review

11-- Ego Waffles w/ honey eaten this week.

7-- hours the banker and I spent at our favorite restaurant.

15-- minutes I was late to class on Thursday

2-- days that I wore my new glasses (I went with frames #1, btw)

89-- cost of monthly unlimited metro card.

27,332--- Chase bank rewards points I had accrued--- renewed the for $60 worth of Sephora gift cards. Treat!

4--- hours spent at a harm reduction training. Now I'm able to administer anti OD meds to anyone overdosing on opiates... And am a participant in the needle exchange program (swapping used needles for clean ones, disposing them properly, supplying 'safe use' kits... For IV drug users.)

My night in tweets.

SM, Akili and myself die most morning after one of us has had a nice out. The tweets are more indicative than any picture sometimes. So, as I lay here in my geriatric hangover, I thought about the time line and progression of the night and duh I went to twitter to fill the holes.

So: last night my brother and my play-brother (patrick, my bro's Best friend) go out with my girl K.Beau. Things got randomly rowdy fast.

Omg I just remember eating Koronet jumbo slice at 4am. Fack.


Tweets:

From: @seshmoney
Sent: Dec 19, 2009 12:38a

Wasted. Pourin one out for section 8

sent via UberTwitter

From: @seshmoney
Sent: Dec 19, 2009 12:49a

White boy wasted. I am torn.

sent via UberTwitter

From: @seshmoney
Sent: Dec 19, 2009 12:59a

Shots shots shots shots shots shots shots

sent via UberTwitter

From: @seshmoney
Sent: Dec 19, 2009 1:22a

I'm tryin to hear some bangers!

sent via UberTwitter

From: @seshmoney
Sent: Dec 19, 2009 1:49a

F my lifeeeeeee shots shots shots http://tweetphoto.com/6720575

sent via UberTwitter


From: @seshmoney
Sent: Dec 19, 2009 2:00a

This is my life @kristenbeau http://tweetphoto.com/6721160

sent via UberTwitter

From: @seshmoney
Sent: Dec 19, 2009 2:39a

Blaxkout or backout Sunccckkaaaaa

sent via UberTwitter


From: @seshmoney
Sent: Dec 19, 2009 2:48a

But will you RiDE?!?!

sent via UberTwitter

----- by all means, look at the twitpics. Hahaha right now I don't know what's worse. The fact that I'm blogging about being old and so hung over that my sinus hurts.... Or the fact that I ride this hard for twitter. This could be a double K.O fail.

**google section 8. The whole program is frozen because of budget cuts as of yesterday. Uh--many of my clients at my internship NEED Sect. 8....so one had to poured out**

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.

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.

E's birthday and the pictures to prove it.

My sister, E turned 27 on Tuesday. She's also in the SSW, and so we're both super busy. I decided to throw E a surprise birthday party last Saturday. What I decided to do was enlist my friend Morg, and E's friend Bekah to help me pull it off. Morgan helped me plan and came early to help me set up, and Bekah occupied E long enough to surprise her. Here are some pictures.

Here is the kitchen counter as I was setting up. A little bit of food, and the blender is pulled out because I decided to blend up some dank margies.
The amazing flowers my family sent E. I helped my Mom pick them out and the Florist, located in Harlem, hooked it up.
E came back from dinner in Little Italy around 11:0pm. This is when she first turned the lights on.
And Here is the Birthday girl when everyone jumped up and surprised her!

We had an amazing night, 12 or so girls came over, we hung out (until my crazy effing neighbor came up here, tryin to buck.... she was out of line) Then we went to this local spot called Moca Lounge. We got in there, promptly got a booth and some guy pourin up mad shots. The DJ must have known we were coming because he played club banger after club banger, like all the best of the southern rap. At one point they were playin Damn! by young bloodz.

Imagine this scene: 12 girls wildin out at this like sit down sort of lounge.... The song breaks and there is a part where the lyrics go "Don't start no Shit, won't be no Shit!!" and that repeats for a bunch of counts. So we're there, getting redic. and next thing you know, it's Knuck time. Like, somehow these female bouncers tried to flex on us, told us to stop missbehaving... next thing... we're in the street. And here is a tiny bit of the evidence, post removal. They don't even tell the full story, but all I can say is the next morning we were all sorry for partying, E had an amazing birthday, and we probably can't show our faces at the neighborhood spot for a little while....

It's 3am. Yup. I have a beer in the street. Nope, it's not legal here.

Flashback: Going Away Party

CD just sent me the pictures from my going away party back in August. I laughed so hard looking through them-- what an insane SFP type of night.

(click to enlarge)

Neighborhood bars

I've been in the city almost a month now, and I certainly am feeling more city savvy as each day passes. It takes a little while to learn the best way to hail a cab, or which train is uptown, or an express. One thing that did NOT take too long, however, was figuring out what my neighborhood bars were. I have yet to venture downtown yet, and cannot wait to do so, but I think it was important that I learned the Morningside/ UWS area first. Here are 3 of my favorite places, all of which are places I'll take you if you call and tell me you're coming to the city.

The Heights Bar and Grill is on Broadway and a short walk from my house. It reminds me a lot of any bar at home (think East Village) that has signature drinks, 1 bathroom, very good dinner, an amazing patio, and a pretty legit soundtrack playing. I went here for the first time on my impromptu date with The Banker, and I again on the night of the most severe SFP of my entire life. The have a seriously dangerous frozen margarita in like, every flavor you can imagine,
The Village Pourhouse is located on 109th and Amsterdam and is a mixture of PB's and Sammys. The have several huge rooms and games on pretty much all day. a DJ spins and night and, get this, they have some of the most creative and fun drink specials ever. I'm pretty much obsessed with this place because the first time I went there, our cocktail waitress noticed we'd relocated to sit with these guys who were literally buying the bar and she took it upon herself to close us out because, in her words "clearly your drinks are on them" That chick knew how to hold another chick down-- and thats reason enough for me to call myself a regular.

Drink nights: Tuesday-- Kill a Keg Tuesdays ($2 unlimited Bud Light) Friday-- Ladies night, flip a coin. If you call the coin right your drink is on the house. Sunday-- Unlimited Mimosas or Bloody Mary's ($10) and also, if you come there in a cab and bring them your receipt they start your tab off with whatever the cab costs. Pretty damn dope.

Suite is also on 109th and Amsterdam, but a little further down. It's a gay bar and seriously the best time to be had in Morningside Heights. Imagine a nonstop stream of club mixes, cheap shooters, and crazy dancing-- all while being told how diva and delicious you are by all the gay guys. They have events like Ghetto Karaoke, trivia, and a drag show on various days of the week, all hosted by different drag queens. It may be a little extreme for some, but, with the right clique of girls and he right amount of drinks, Suite is heaven on earth....

The thing that still trips me up is the seemingly non-existent closing times. I'm accustom to going out at about 11:30, bar closing at 2, and getting home somewhere between 2:30 and 3:30. Here, we meet up at someone's house around 10, finish getting ready, drink, whatever. Then we seriously can be at one place from 11-1:30, head someplace else and before I know it, I'm still dancing, still drinking, and, welp, surprise!! its 4:30 am.... and there is no sign of stopping. It's sort of true, New York never sleeps... and pretty much, I don't think I'm ever leaving....

Goodbye NC.

I'm here in the city! E and I flew out this morning and were happy in our apartment 2 hours later. we're having a very slow and lazy Sunday, mainly we made ramen and ate trail mix. E napped while I spent 3 hours trying to set up our wireless. It's up and running (thanks to all the amazing mac users who posted the how-to's for a linksys router....) So we've got internet! As of right now I'm feeling fine, surprisingly. I've had a string of emotional goodbyes, starting on Thursday with Beck and then Friday night at my good luck party. Luckily I was so SFP that I don't really remember how bummed I was. Saturday sucked because my mom and dad left for vacation, then I had goodbye dinner with DW&CD, after which I was super sad. We then went to Raleigh for Liv's goodbye parts (she's moving to New Zealand.) The icing on the cake was having SM and RSJ take me to the airport this morning. Train-wreck. I'm not big on tears, but this week I was OK with it. I feel grateful for the wonderful friends I have, and am so happy to have spent these last nights with so many amazing girls.

On an even more sentimental note--

I seriously feel like the luckiest person in the world. My friends are flat out awesome. I can't really explain what I mean, except that I'm going to miss everyone so much. I know that like, this is the best place for me to be right now. So all my sadness will be fleeting, I'm sure.

OK, thats the end of the obligatory goodbye post.

Sorry for Partying shirt

Good ole' Grace. She linked me to this shirt. However... Ya'll know I was digging for the exact one. And I found it! They are made by some emo scene-queen named Jac Vanek. I think she is best known for dating Ryan Ross (ex guitarist for Panic at the Disco) Regardless, I am for sure buying that shirt. here is the link to her online store. Her bracelets (see above) are quite popular among The Scene, but I think you had to be born in 1992 or later to wear them... Anyways. look out for me and my shirt while I'm running around New York being sorry about partying.

I need this.

Get me this shirt. Stat.

CD's Bachelorette Party.

A good friend of mine is getting married in November, and I am super pumped. CD (the friend) is like the

quintessential perfect girl. You know the type: good nice girl, super sweet. She never has that bitch-ass stank

attitude that a lot of girls have. Never trashy and dramatic. She's the kind of girl you'd want to wingman you because you're certain she'd do the job without stealing you the guy in the process. Pretty much, if CD was still single, didn't have a job, and was down for drinking cheap beers 3 nights a week,I'd want her to ride out, for sure. Ok, enough with the hardcore bramance I'm writing right now. Awk.

So when her Jack and Jill shower/Bachelorette invite was sent, I made it a point to get back down to NC use so I could make it. Looking at her pictures triggered my hazy memory and I am now 100% positive that it was a top night, and I know for a fact that she had a "sorry I partied" next morning, too. Pretty much, I love this girl to death. These 3 pictures are the before, during, and after... use your imagination to fill in the gaps for yourself. Really, only one word is needed to describe the night, and that word is Rage.

SFP: A cautionary tale, in Pictures. Part 1

Prevention of SFP's is is very similar to what is taught in Sex Ed. The only TRUE way to stay SFP-safe is to abstain.

Let's be real. Abstinence only education doesn't work. So. here are some different forms of protection:



Do not take bombs.

a)

Do not take shots.

b)

Figgin do not drink malt liquor.

What the eff, get off the luge.