I’m a Jinius

I woke up on Sunday morning with frosting all over my face.

But first let me tell you about this conversation I had with my friend Sabbie.

So she came over the day and asked about the 23 year old hot bartender and I told her that I deleted his number.

Oh, right, did I tell you guys that?

And she was all “Why did you do that??”

I said it’s because I didn’t wanna end up liking him. And you know how these things work. We’d probably hang out for a while until things got messy and then it would just end badly like everything else. So might as well just nip it in the bud.

And then she says, “So, what, you’re just never going to date again??”

Ummm, yeah, pretty much.

Anyway, she’s going abroad for a month and she said that by the time she comes back I better have worked things out with hot bartender. I guess I should listen to her. Every time I follow her advice, things seem to work out in the end. Sabbie is one of those people who thinks life falls into place when you’re honest with yourself and other people. Just because she’s one of the most level-headed people I know and is aware of my relationship behavior and patterns, she thinks she knows everything!

Friday night I stayed in and cleaned the apartment while listening to Cat Power. If you’re going to wallow in your own emotional quagmire you might as well indulge in some weepy indie music.

On Saturday night I headed to Brooklyn for Vidya’s brother’s birthday soiree. I knew from the evite that it was going to be a bunch of her brother’s friends and their plus ones but it didn’t really hit me until I got to the party that I was going to be surrounded by couples. Have you ever gone to a party and realized YOU ARE THE ONLY SINGLE PERSON IN THE ENTIRE PARTY.

Oh, sorry, me and Vidya were the only single people. We decided that the only way to deal with the situation was to get wasted. We even said to eachother, “Lets get wasted.”

So we did.

And you know me, after a couple of drinks I just feeling like making out with someone but the only guy at the party that I would’ve madeout with was someone I actually hooked up with a couple of times but I couldn’t hit on him there because he was at the party with HIS WIFE.

A small hurdle.

I think that depressed me a little bit because he’s actually one of those guys who’s just a genuinely nice guy and every time I run into him he always says, “You look great” and he’s just so fucking polite it hurts and his wife is one of those people who would bite your head off if you looked at her the wrong way.

I don’t get it. I mean, I know I’m crazy but I’m crazy in a “ha-ha” way. She seems crazy in a “oh shit” way. Why do guys always hookup with the fun girls and end up settling down with the crazy ones? And if it’s not the crazy ones then it’s always the boring ones. When are the fun girls with mild drinking problems gonna get their due?!?!

So I took my anger out in red velvet cupcakes. Vidya is a fucking domestic goddess and made red velvet cupcakes–from scratch! I think I ate two. Or four. Or SIX. Vidya said that every time she turned around, she saw me at the counter stuffing my face with cupcakes. Even her friend said to her, “Wow, Ji is having ANOTHER cupcake.”

Um, yeah, the next morning I puked red. Ha.

That also explains the frosting all over my face.

Oh, but there was one couple who did not fit the stereotype of the alpha husband and boring wife. In fact, the story of how they met is super cute.  They were at this party in college and the husband had to carry his wife out of the party because she had passed out from drinking too much.

Swoon.

Any guy who can handle his girlfriend when she’s drunk and passed out can handle anything.

Something tells me I will meet my future husband that way.

Ugh, wordpress makes it so difficult to embed codes.

Click here for the full spring playlist.

For some reason I get really aggravated when women castigate Sex and the City for being a horrible example of feminism. I think it’s because I own season two and three on dvd. Umm, I went to a seven sister school, okay! I read Camille Paglia! (that’s a lie).

Lindsey Gerdes’s Businessweek piece lambasts the tv show for its vapid depiction of women obsessing over men and sex.

Umm, yeah, I think it’s because the show is called SEX and the city not FERMAT’S THEOREM and the city.

While Gerdes was a fan of the show in college (”The four chic, single, thirty-to-fortysomething central characters seemed like sexually liberated, glamorous exemplars of modern femininity”), her interest eventually declined:

My own disillusionment with the show began with my post-grad move to New York City (BusinessWeek.com, 10/11/06), which turned out to be anything but the exciting, glamorous metropolis so romanticized by Carrie & Co.

First of all, people who believe that life in New York City is going to be just like a tv show are in for a rude awakening. I suggest you avoid watching the sitcom Friends.

Also, the fictitious characters on the show were in their mid to late thirties. They had the money and influence to galavant around the meatpacking district and wear Manolos. Except Carrie. People still wonder how girlfriend could afford those shoes on a journalist’s salary. But the show did hint at her massive credit card debt. Maybe she’s to blame for the sub-prime crisis.

But here’s what I don’t understand about people who complain that New York is not as glitzy and glamorous as it’s portrayed by HBO.

When I was living in New york post-college, I wasn’t making that much money, but I still managed to go to all these parties where open bar and long limbed girls in precipitous heels were staples.

Maybe Gerdes would have had a much more Carrie Bradshaw-esque experience if she had just learned to mooch off people with influence like I did. She would’ve had more fun. And more hangovers.

One of her friends proposed boycotting the movie.

I say, there are bigger issues worth boycotting. Like patchouli. Ugh, lets boycott men who wear patchouli!

I was having one of those days at work when people were pulling me from all sides. I wanted to put a sign up that said “I will be emotionally and physically unavailable between the hours of 9 A.M.-5 P.M., Mon-Fri”

And then on top of that I started freaking out over the diminishing balance of my bank account and the increasing rate of my spending. Yeah, I’m gonna have to stock up on rice and beans and ramen. I’m 28 but I eat like a college freshman.

So when you are having one of those days when you hate your life because you are overworked and poor, the last thing you want to do is sit in a dark theater.

My friends and I had tickets to see this scary puppet show in the East Village but my brain was too numb to handle anything artistic or requires cognitive processing on my part. And I had a feeling that if I were placed in a dark and quiet theater I would slowly start bawling to myself and make it very awkward for people in my vicinity. (more…)

I’m pretty sure that my bouts of bad karma are a result of hating everyone. The only people I like are my friends (and you, dear readers.) and the reason that my friends and I get along is because we’re all just the right amount of crazy, bitchy, and compassionate. The best mix in my opinion.

On Saturday, we all gathered in Brooklyn for my friend Chris’s 30th birthday party at Union Hall. Before that we all met for dinner at this French bistro nearby and had this crazy waitress named Jan (at least that’s what we called her all night) who would slap her face every time she fumbled her words which was like ALL THE TIME.

Dinner was so much fun and my face was sore from laughing so much. My friend Elissa is one of those people who can tell an innocuous story like ordering chocolate cake from room service and make it seem like the funniest thing since the first season of Golden Girls.

We also talked about Peeps and did you know that they are made of a special, secret ingredient? And then I realized, hello, Peeps! Peeps are people!!!! What do you think peep is short for??? (more…)

When you ask the universe for help, you have to be very specific.

I have a job interview tomorrow. I applied a long time ago and didn’t mention it because a) it’s in a different field from what I”m doing now and b) it would involve a move to Seattle.

Yeah, bye bye New York.

I find that I’m confronted with heated opposition whenever I casually mention leaving New York. “But you don’t know how to drive, Ji!” or “You haven’t even been there long enough to know that you like it!”

Well, did I mention that I applied to college in New York without ever having visited the city? I’ve now been here for ten years.

I think it’s good to get out of your comfort zone. Challenge yourself. I’m almost thirty. I should eventually learn how to drive–especially learning to be the driver of my own life.

Anyway, I haven’t even had the interview yet so all this is just premature. I still have time to learn how to drive. Uhh, just don’t expect me to learn how to drive stick.

On Thursday, I meet up with Ursy at Resto, this Belgian restaurant in New York. I love Belgian beer and frites so I was very excited. We sit at the bar, have one drink, and decide to leave because the bartender was kinda stank. She made us feel like we should either order more or leave so guys in suits can sit down.

So we leave and go to this Indian restaurant in Curry Hill (For non New Yorkers–it’s actually an area in Manhattan called Murray Hill and there’s an abundance of South Asian restaurants, hence, the name. I love bad puns!) We order the chana masala and saag paneer but when the waiter comes to our table we kept calling it SHAG paneer. “Oh, I love that SHAG paneer.” “I love SHAG.” “Can I have more SHAG paneer?” He totally hated us. It was one of those situations when your joke is hilarious to no one.

After dinner, I come home and start watching LOST when my phone goes beep beep beep. TEXT! I look over and it’s a text from my hot bartender.

Hey, I’m going to this little show in the East Village. You should also.

Oh, I shall.

I had less than an hour to get ready so I had to assemble my best “Oh, I just picked these clothes off the floor’ outfit” when really I ransacked my closet and tried everything on like ten times. I ended up wearing a vest with a satin, lacy top underneath. I think it says serious with a hint of naughty.

I go meet him at the lounge at 11 P.M. God, when was the last time I went out to meet someone at eleven on a school night??? I can’t keep up with you recent college grads!

I spot him by the bar. He says, “It’s good to see you. I figured you’d be home watching LOST.”

Um, whatever, you don’t know me! (more…)

Find out why here.

You have been so patient, dear readers.

This blog is ostensibly about dating and going out but you have endured all my posts on LOST, 30 Rock, and a dvd on string theory. Yeah, you know you’re in a dry spell when you voluntarily watch Nova specials on physics. I DON’T EVEN LIKE SCIENCE!

But these days there has been an extra spring in my step. I break out into giggles for no apparent reason in the middle of the work day or even during a shower. I have a perpetual grin on my face like some crazed cult member.

It was raining in New York yesterday and I skipped along the puddles like they were streams of gold! A cab drove by and drenched me in puddle water–just like in the movies!!!–and I didn’t care!!! I just continued walking and grinning!

What, pray tell, could be the source of all this… happiness??? (more…)