Off the Wagon

I have fallen, so hardcore off the the diet wagon there are hardly words.

I had 3 weeks of really great work, lost like 5 or 6 lbs. Then it happened. I began to drink again.

So that's it. That's my defining factor of dieting. Annoying. Because life is life and I have fun when I drink. And I have a lot going on right now that's just a little bit more fun if I can have a cold one.

I need to figure out that delicate balance between drinking one day a week and being really good on my diet the rest of the time. And I need to get my ass back to the gym. BAD.

Here's why. Don't tell her, Bridget, but my bridesmaids dress doesn't fit. Oh sweet mother of God!!! There's like a 5 to 10 lb window that needs to become obsolete so that my dress closes in the back. If not then I'm going to be wearing my shawl for the church all day. And possibly flashing people my back fat.

AWKWARD.

Anyway, I've decided Tuesdays the day. I'm minding what I eat this week, but after Cinco de Mayo on Saturday & the first day with our new staff on Monday I'm going to get back to it until Bridge's Bachelorette Party. And after that it's BACK ON THE WAGON again.

Uggggghhh. Why couldn't I have just ordered the right damn size? I wont be complaining when I look damn hotter. But for now I'm complaining. So get over it.

and send me encouragement. and workout ideas. and salad stuff.

I need to start living by this statement, I saw it on Pinterest the other day.

Don't reward yourself with food. you're not a dog.

Sometimes, I just wish I were...

Meh. Meh meh meh. Meh.

I could spend this post talking about that TROLL Stanley but at the end of the day my uncle is right... those comments were coming straight from his mother's basement, probably while he masterbated to pictures of Justin Bieber. So I say we all move on.

And instead lets talk about the last two weekends which have been legend....waitforit....DARY!

Haha. Anyway. Last weekend I went down to Deleware to the wedding of one of my oldest friends Kristina. The wedding was beautiful & I actually ended up getting to practice my House Management skills as I was needed to fluff Kris' dress before she walked down the aisle, close the doors & seat late comers. Ahhhh a professionals work is never done.

Emily road down with me so I didn't have to drive the 2 & 1/2 hours alone which was good bc Sunday morning I was in no shape to drive at all ever again in the history of the world.

So of Friday when we got down there we decided to hit up the bar next door. Our bartender was a stunning example of the male species. He was gorgeous.

I realized I do this thing when I think some one is too good looking for me where I don't give a shit. I'm kind of like "Even if this person is into me, I will never believe that they are into me, so what the hell..." Plus I had my first beer in about 4 weeks so I was feeling loosy goosy. The even better thing is that I realized I have not lost my ability to read people, hard core.

I was like "Emily, I bet this guy is a serial monogomast." She was like "naaa he's in love with his best friend." So I asked him. Turned out he was both, but more of a serial monogomast than in love with his ex-gf. So We continued to chat. I continued to ask him questions about his life. Some personal, some not. And he answered ALL of them. So freely that Em was like "do you get these questions a lot?"

And Ray (that's his name, Ray, we go way back) was like "No never."

So he was off helping other patrons of the fine establishment and I made another bet, I doubled down that ALL his ex-es were tiny brunette girls. They were. I know because he showed us pictures of them on his cell phone.

I let him know this meant he still had feelings for them. He informed me that he didn't.

The best was when I go "Emily, I bet money that Ray (a Phillies fan) will know not only the year that the Mets last won the World Series, but the team."

When asked Ray responded. "1986 - That was a great year! An awesome Roster!" And began to list players by name.

Dear Ray, thanks for being awesome & putting up with my ridiculousness. You rock.

The wedding was the following day & we danced the night away, I drank way way way too much. Had a little bit too much fun. And lived life.

Sunday was a Buffalo Wild Wings in my belly type of day.

This past weekend was Bridget's Bridal Shower. The week was a bit stressful leading up to it so I am happy that it's done. Everyone was a big help and it was a big hit. But. But.

I drank for 14 hours.

Guests began to arrive, the room was decorated, the hall directors had taken over & I was drinking. It was ---- AWESOME!

The shower went off without a hitch & afterward we all went out for dinner and drinks. Ahh dinner.

The place was BYOB & it was Saturday so Kari & I went ahead to get a table. We didn't know we had to babysit them at the liquor store. They rolled up with one bottle of white, one bottle of red, a 6 pack of Coors Light & a Heinekin mini keg. There were 7 of us.

We kicked the keg. We kicked the 6 pack. Jules kicked the red & there was one glass of white left. We left it as part of our tip.

We. were. raging.

Later that night I met a cute guy and had a told "I don't want this night to end" night. We had a really good time. I was wasted, but I know I wanted him to call. I still do. I think I told him this. But if he doesn't, I know why.

It was definitely one of those situations where you're so comfortable with someone plus kind of really totally wasteface, so you're crazy honest. And I was. I was myself which meant blabbermouth magee up in here.

Today there was a missed call on my phone from a number I don't recognize. They didn't leave a message. I tried to call them back & it rang twice then told me the user had not set up a voicemail. I want to call again. Part of me doesn't understand why I can't. But everyone is telling me I shouldn't. To wait. And part of me knows that's true. I want the guy who wants to call me, again if I don't pick up the first time.

And it's not even that that is torturing me. It's not knowing if it was him. That is what is KILLLLLING ME!!!! haha.

Sweet baby Jesus I HATE being this girl. I'm rarely this girl.

The worst part.

He was a fantastic f***ing kisser.

Well Here We Are...

I deal with the most amazing people at work. At both ends of the spectrum.

My supervisor might be the best person ever to work for. Let's reflect on how invested/upset I have gotten at my past jobs.

At the Olive Garden people always knew where to find me because I'd be crying in the back side station. Thanks to my oh so lovely and kind General Manager. He was a douche.

At the Weather Vane clothing stores people would snap and wave me over to the dressing room. One time I just waved back and walked away. Probably punched something.

At the video store the boys would always leave the porn movies for me to put away. It made 18 year old me very uncomfortable.

At Chevys, well I worked at Chevys. So I cried about that and bc people were bitches when it came to their crappy Mexican food. Much like they became bitches when it came to their crappy Italian. Yeah, probably tears.

The hotel was just a total crap shoot.

It got to the point that I honestly believed that I didn't actually work somewhere until I had cried there.

And now every day I deal with people who have nothing else to do but complain about whatever. Seriously though, I think that people sit at home and say "I'm bored, I'm going to call STNJ and bitch about my tickets / ask when I'm getting my tickets / try to buy tickets that aren't available yet / be rude to people / ask questions but keep talking instead of listening to the answer / just all around suck."

But now I can deal with all that. It effects me for a bit and then I begin to practice my  new mantra for life... Care Less.

I've learned this mantra from one of my absolute new favorite people. This man:

This is my supervisor.

We work. We get our shit done. We kiss patron tuchus. We sell the shit out of shit.

Then we recreate 80's music videos and practice our chair dancing. We're expert chair dancers.

I know this bc the bartender at the Famished Frog told me so when I busted out my moves. Then he offered to turn up the jams for me... he loved me.

Now if you'll excuse me I must get back to chair dancing rehearsal. It's Aqua time.

Dating Dating Everwhere, but not a drop to drink.

I have been on A LOT of bad/awkward first dates.

A LOT.

But last night takes the cake.

It started fine. Chit chat. Conversation. All that good stuff that you have to weigh through the first time you meet anyone.

Then it just got strange. She kept "busting my balls" about shit but when I would give it back she kept saying "you're so mean!"

Here's a little note, on a first date, don't call someone mean 1,000 times. It doesn't make for a good start.

We moved the conversation onto tattoos. I was telling her about the next one that I want to get but how I'm not sure where I want to get it. She was giving me all these options and one of them was my upper arm. I said "naa sleeves aren't for me & I don't like my upper arms so I wouldn't want to draw any more attention to them." and she goes "why don't you like your upper arms? You can work out & fix that." to which I replied. "We all have our insecurities."  When I was really thinking "Gee thanks for walking me through that, because I've tried & have you heard of Kenny Chesney?" Rude.

Then finally we got down to it. She asks me who I'm more attracted to men or woman. I said it's kind of a toss up. Because it is. There are some men that I find more attractive than some woman & vice versa. And at this point, I'm finding Joe Schmoe with 300 extra pounds and a drool across the bar more attractive than you. Then she flat out says "I have issues with bisexual girls." Really? do tell. She goes on to tell me how ALL the bisexual girls she's dated have tried to get her to bring men back to the bed room. When I informed her that she just dated crappy girls bc in a year and half I never would have thought to ask my lesbian gf if we can bring a dude back home! Then she got defensive & all "I'm just telling you about my experience!"

Well let me tell you about my experience tonight. I've been called mean, numerous times. I've had my sexuality attacked. I've been told I should define myself differently because you think "pansexual" is a better than bisexual. And best of all was when I was told that all bisexual woman will choose to end up with a man because it's the "easy way out". I should have shaken her hand and said good night right then. Oh and to my lesbian friends, apparently you all feel this way. At least that was what I was told last night. That you ALL dislike and distrust bisexuals. Just a heads up on the new rumor starting about you, besides all the other fun ones.

Listen. Listen. I don't have time for this bullshit. I'm going to end up with whoever makes me happy. Whoever makes me laugh. Whoever doesn't make me cry when we get home from our first date. I just met you, how dare you judge me and make assumptions about the kind of person I am?

I'll tell you who I wont be ending up with. You.

And no, I wont respond to your text saying "I hope you had at least some fun last night. hehe." bc if I do it will say "Yes between having my sexuality questioned by a stranger & being called mean I did have an iota of fun. It just happened to be when I was singing karaoke a good 15 feet away from you though.hehe."

If I don't have to defend myself to my family & friends, why would I ever even feel remotely moved to defend myself to you.

And no I don't think we can be friends. I'm only friends with open minded folk. So f*** off.

MERP

It's quiet around my house this morning. My parents won some raffle & stayed in some houghty toughty hotel last night & my sisters still asleep. Even my dog seems to be ignoring me.

And I'm ok with all of that.

I think I needed some quiet.

I've been so wrapped up in some things these last few weeks that it feels like my brain is a bit weighed down. Not in a bad way, but in a "I can't stop thinking about this" way.

You guessed it. The Hunger Games. Catching Fire. MockingJay.

I know I've been over it one hundred million fafillion times but I get SO invested in these books. I know it's crazy. But I love escaping. I love hanging out with imaginary characters. I love going on their adventures with them.

I guess I wish I could just write my own adventure. I have the stories in my head & I know how long they can take to write & I know it's important to be ready to really write them. But I just know they will be so good. I just have to get there.

I think that I love THG so much because it gives me a girl with a million flaws but who has people who love her. And the whole idea of someone being brainwashed to hate you but still loving you deep inside just makes me week at the knees. Because sometimes love isn't enough, but usually it is.

What a geeky post. I am a fricken geek. But all of you knew that already, didn'tcha?

Why are we all so scared of strangers?

I was driving through Madison today & saw a small yard sign that read "Strangers? Not in my schools!"

I have no clue what this is about. Absolutely no idea. I haven't even googled it. I really don't care.

Because that got me thinking about some stuff. Who are these strangers? Why don't parents want them in their schools. But even more, aren't ALL the people working in a school a stranger to you at some point?

There's this old crazy saying that goes something like "All friends start out as strangers." or something equally cheesetastic. But isn't it true?

Before I carry on with my point, I'd like to point out that I am wary of strangers & we all have plenty of reason to be. People, children, pets are kidnapped, murdered, attacked, eaten, bruised, abused by strangers all the time. So I'm well aware that there is actual reason to fear other people out there.

But every person I've even met, started out as a stranger. And they're all pretty awesome.

So here's my thing. We're all so scared of strangers. We're all so petrified by these hypothetical people who have become a type of boogie man to our society.

Let's break down the word stranger. Not really. But lets think about it. Lets at least start with my favorite thing to bitch about... homophobes.

I would go so far as to say that 90% of people who hate on my favorite people don't know even one. Or if they did have someone in their life that at one point they loved, they now consider them a stranger bc this new information is to hard to bear.

But every friend starts as a stranger.

I'm not saying befriend the guy down the street who whistles to himself and is constantly asking you over to see his new basement. cage.

I'm talking about normal strangers. Here is the definition of STRANGE according to www.dictionary.com

Strange [streynj] Show IPA adjective, strang·er, strang·est, adverb  

adjective

1.unusual, extraordinary, or curious; odd; queer: a strange remark to make.

2.estranged, alienated, etc., as a result of being out of one's natural environment: In Bombay I felt strange.

3.situated, belonging, or coming from outside of one's own locality; foreign: to move to a strange place; strange religions.

4.outside of one's previous experience; hitherto unknown; unfamiliar: strange faces; strange customs.

5.unaccustomed to or inexperienced in; unacquainted (usually followed by to ): I'm strange to this part of the job.

So really, what I get from all this. Is that strange = different. And we're all f***ing terrified of anything that's different from us. 

Which is something that blows my mind. I love different. I tease it from time to time. But I flippin' love it. It's what makes this world so great.  

So I guess the moral of this rant is this. Instead of instantly defining everyone around you that you don't know as a stranger, someone different from you that you have no interest interacting with. Maybe think of them as a friend that you don't know yet.

I'm not saying go out for coffee. I'm saying be a little nicer. Maybe smile. Maybe don't be so fricken afraid 24/7. Isn't that exhausting?

The Follow Through

In some ways I lead a really fantastic life.

As in.

I hung out with not 1 but 2 celebrities this weekend. Define "hung out"? Will do.

I passed them numerous times in the hallway during our annual Gala and more than once they smiled back at me. Woo. I'm totally famous.

But seriously it was a pretty cool day. I was freezing the whole night, but what are you gonna do?

At 9:30 AM I drug my butt into the Short Hills Hilton to begin setting up for the 2012, 50th Anniversary Gala for The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey. We ran around like chickens all day, then got all dolled up & hosted the event. My supervisor & I sat behind a table all night selling Golden Eggs with prizes inside valuing anywhere from $2 to $750. And the eggs were all $50. Yes, I was surrounded by the mother ship.

Evening with how exhausting it all was & how cold I was it was a good time.

I think my favorite part was bonding with our new facilities guy Rob. Now I can say on here, because I'm pretty sure he knows & most everyone at my work knows, that Rob is gorgeous. He's pretty to look at. Plus he has tattoos, so... swoon.

Anyway since Rob is the opposite of my type, even though he's pretty and crush worthy, there is no crush, so I'm absolutely myself around him. Which includes, but is not limited to, annoying the crap out of him. I asked him any question that popped into my mind. Ranging anywhere from "how often do you work out?" to "do you drink?" to "where are you from?" to "you got a girlfriend?" to "how do you do a proper pushup?"

OK I haven't asked him that last one yet but I fully intend on doing it because I really am curious.

So what is it about a guy that I know I have no chance with / am not interested in that makes me completely act like myself? What is that? I wish I could do that around people I'm into. That's the point right? Ughh!! If I'm actually into you I act a total fool.

Oye vey!

So that was my Saturday. On Sunday I went out to the golf course with my dad because he'd "like to be able to play golf with his daughter" I told him that he was just giving up on playing golf with his son. he laughed and said that he hadn't but it's prooooooobably true.

The funny thing about golf is that it runs parallel with my life. We were practicing putting & chipping and with nearly every swing my dad said "You have to follow through!" after about the 3rd or 4th time I realized...

HOLY METAPHOR FOR MY LIFE!!! I have no follow through.

Isn't that sad.

I need to follow through.