Life in Shambles!

Am I pathetic or what?

So I went to my friendly neighborhood bar tonight, Bar Coastal... shout out to my homegirls--Meetra and Katie. Anyway, I was there, alone. Typical. I don't have cable, what's a girl supposed to do. I had some baseball games to watch. Anyway, so, here I am sitting at my usual table, alone, and the bouncer comes over and starts making small talk to me. The waitress asks if I need another, and because I'm poor, I obviously say no. Well, the bouncer, Asian Evan, buys me another. He felt bad for me because I was alone. I'll let you know that I was content being by myself.

Moving on...

Asian Evan decides that he should introduce me to all of his friends. Whatever. Rich... fat... old guys. There is nothing they rather do than buy a pretty gal (or at least prettier than them, I'm not going to toot my own horn) drinks! Thank God! So here I am now, sitting in my apartment, super tipsy, writing this fantastic piece of _______ (fill in the blank yourself).

Is this what the world has come to for me? Who am I? I miss being at Sandbar and making super hotties jealous by dancing with "That's not my name... Maclean." (Obviously, because he is super hottie #1 in my life, and we WILL be married some day).

WTF? <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cm91hh9SqXs>
That was just shared with me.

Oh, and I was also creeped on by Mr. Creepy Creeperson who was macking on V one night. He asked to sleep at our APT. Ummm... no thank you. However, Mr. McHottie definitely flashed me an award winning smile on my way back from the bathroom... worth it! In other news, but kind of the same news, Asian Evan asked at one point if he should leave me alone again because there were a lot of guys checking me out. Not sure if I believe him, but it did make me feel kind of fierce. Works for me.

I apologize a million times for the random explosion of thoughts that this post has turned into. That's what you get when old guys buy me drinks. I can't help it. Love life and so much more!

And... fun tip from the bathroom, "Girl, never sleep with a guy on the first date. All this achieves is a spot in the Booty Call section of his phone book... forever." What excellent advice? Thank you right bathroom stall. I will always go to you in need of I'm drunk, boy advice.

Oh, and we're getting hit with bands of a hurricane... I just can't escape!


xoxo,

Chik-fil-A my day!

If you know me, you know there is one thing I do not joke about ever, and that is Chick-fil-A. Oh man, I could eat Chick-fil-A three times per day. (Don't tell anyone that I did this once, ok?)

So color me excited when I saw that for signing up to join the Chick-fil-A wave, you can get a certificate in the mail for a FREE chicken sandwich! Nope, I don't really know what the wave is. I can't imagine they expect everyone to participate in one gigantic nationwide "wave" at a pre-determined time on a pre-determined date. But, who knows?

All I had to do was head on over to www.chickenwave.com, and create a little cow friend. After I set up my cow (who will participate in this wave), I submitted my mailing address, and then was told I would receive a coupon in the mail for a free chicken sandwich.

Hurry up - claim yours too! This offer is only open to the first 250,000 people who sign up!

www.chickenwave.com

PLUS - on Labor Day (only), if you wear your favorite sports team's logo to any Chick-fil-A, you will receive a FREE Chick-fil-A original chicken sandwich!! So much Chick-fil-A...

Now if only they'd open one near me that wasn't a part of NYU foodcourt. (But then again, I've already demonstrated I can't control myself... so y'all will have to enjoy the deliciousness for me!)

xoxo,

E

Chasing Mr. Wrong

I have officially been in New York for exactly three months today, and oddly enough I have dated more people in these three months than I have dated in my lifetime. However, the more I date, the more I find Mr. Wrong.

Let us begin with the guy that I have serial dated since last summer, Creepy Dave. he is like the flesh and blood equivalent of a DKNY dress--I know it's not my style, but it's right there, so I try it on anyway. He is successful and good looking and tall, all things that are on my "must have" list for a potential, but that is obviously not enough. On a side note, Creepy Dave isn't really creepy. He is a very nice, sweet, and thoughtful person. The only thing that put him in the creepy category was the fact that he referred to me as his girlfriend last summer after I had just exited a relationship, and it was apparent that I was not ready for that (he also knew I was fresh out of a relationship).

Things that bother me about this faux-lationship with Creepy Dave:

1. He never attended college. I know this makes me sound super snooty falootie, but it is just something that irks me a little bit. I realize that college is not for everyone, but it was a very big part of my life, and he just can't understand my obsession with some aspects of college.
2. He is on a health and fitness kick. This means that he works out twice a day, which I can respect, but he won't eat any sweets or drink any alcohol. If you haven't realized yet from the previous posts that those are integral aspects of my life then you need to not read so deeply into what I write. Well-known fact about me--if I want to show you that I care about you or feel like I need to apologize for something, I will bake for you. I will bake a lot for you. My happiness revolves around baking and if you are unwilling to even humor me in trying just a bite, then we will obviously not make it very long. Baking is my life, everything else is just details.
3. He goes camping. Now this isn't what you think. I actually LOVE camping. I love setting up tents, building fires, drinking beer, going fishing, eating out of a skillet, getting dirty. Next to baked goods, there is no greater smell in the world than a campfire. So, the fact that he goes camping is not the issue. It is where and why he goes camping. He camps at Renaissance festivals. Oh yes. Crazy sophomore English teacher Ms. Jernegan type Renaissance festivals. And it's not like he's just a turkey leg in hand enjoyer of such festival, no, he dresses up! He will wear a suit of armor and participate in the community fights! Are you a normal human being?!?! My instinct says no.

I'm sure after reading these three points, you can understand why he is obviously a Mr. Wrong for me, but there is one more thing that just sends me over the edge. Get ready for it...

4. He wears graphic tees! Not cool, fun, I'm a kid of the 80s graphic tee, but I can totally see him being the Ed Hardy type. Ummm, no thank you. I'm more of a polo and Sperry's kind of girl, and if you want to throw in a southern swoop, well then, this would be love. A graphic tee... never going to cut it for me.

Let us move on to candidate number two, The Bodster. If you haven't caught on already, Bodie is a bar owner and definite ladies man. He loves to flirt, give out free drinks, request blow jobs, take random girls to his office, yet always seems to return to texting me with his tail between his legs. Why is this? I will never be able to explain.

Here are a few reasons that there will be nothing between me and The Bodster beyond a casual makeout and free drinks:

1. He's a bar owner. Do I need to explain myself anymore? This pretty much screams, "I'm a player, and I will hook up with a hundred girls and I don't care." He may be beautiful to look at and he may be loaded with his pretty house in the Hamptons, but I prefer to check the STD at the door.
2. He too is a health nut. Meaning fried food and sweets are out of the question, but at least he drinks, and he drinks a lot!
3. He owns a Gator bar. This is really the only thing that I need to be competely turned-off by him. I will drink your free booze, but I will never support the Gators!

Though Creepy Dave and The Bodster are the two not-so-fine gentlemen that I have frequently been spotted with, I have found my way into other awkward dating situations.

Let's take Software Engineer Rob. Oh, he was precious. As precious as a, well, software engineer. Let's begin with my fear of dating situations for the fact that a typical date consists of a dinner, and being the world's pickiest eater, going out with someone that I have not established some type of prior friendship with who will recognize my aversion to many types of foods creates great anxiety for me. Precious Rob obviously didn't know this about me. He took me to a Tapas restaurant... that only had fish on the menu. That is a major red light. I don't eat any type of fish. Poor thing, he felt terrible. He was nice enough, but of course I never called him back. Oh, and did I mention that he showed up to the date wearing jeans with cargo pockets on the sides and sneakers. Bless his heart.

Then there was Clayton. Blond southern swoop. Blue eyes. Tall. Polo shirt. Khaki shorts. Sperry's. Loves alcohol and sweets. It was love at first site. Turns out he was macking on me when he has a long distance girlfriend. Whomp whomp.

Then there was Ian that made me weary about getting on the train to go home from work for fear that he would be on the same car (it happened, and I wanted an invisibility cloak so that I could disappear).

Then there was Carlos. His name is Carlos, must I go on?

So, I'm three months in, and still nothing to show for it other than a few added pounds from all the free dinners. What is a girl to do?

xoxo,

E

Why can't Urban Dictionary give me this kind of stuff?

What does it mean to miss someone?

A very profound friend of mine gave me a new definition that I've decided to adopt.

To miss someone means to love them so much and long to be around them despite the fact that you can't be with them right at that moment. And though you may miss them, they are always with you because you carry them in the love that is in your heart.

This was her explanation to her four year old nephew, but I don't think I could have had that word explained to me any better right now. I use the word miss frivolously. I miss my dog. I miss my brass bed. I miss my car and the little bows tied to the seats. I miss someone doing my laundry for me. I miss my clothes that I can't fit into my itty bitty NYC closet. But the epiphany that my friend has caused in me has pushed me to really think about what I miss. I miss my family, and the ridiculousness that is my little sister. I miss my friends from Miami and how they provided me my first home away from my family. I miss my best friend and the pillow talk (occasionally "deep" drunk conversations or shared stories over french toast) that would keep me pushing on week by week.

Oh the feeling of loving something and someone so much that they are worthy of being missed.

xoxo,

E

Love is All Around

Here's a little teaser for your taste buds...

Highlights from this evening include the following:

• Going to TTT and running into the bartender from last Friday (see prior post) and learning that he apparently thought that my roommate had locked me out of my apartment and was concerned that I was incapable of making it home. The bouncer apparently stated that he was worried how I would make it to my apartment, which I did with great poise. (Was I really that bad?)
• Being told that I looked like Katherine Heigl. Flattering... yes. True... not at all. Used as means to try to get in my pants... absolutely.
• Having that same boy, who happens to be in the Coast Guard, try to force himself on me and eat my face, and precede to tell me that he would like to come back to my apartment, but not to have sex, but so that we can just be close to each other and that he could take me to breakfast tomorrow morning. Right.
• Have The Bodster watch CG boy all over me and see him get jealous. (Life is complete!)
• Going to Ben's Pizza and having a homeless man come in with roses and a boombox playing Love is All Around, and a random boy buying one for both me and Kel Bel.
  
• Catching a cab with the craziest cab driver ever that tried to get us killed because he decided to yell, "fuck you, you fucking terrorist" at another cab driver and then dropping us off at the wrong location.
• Having Kel Bel pay for the cab, but type in her pin number as the tip amount for the ride (meaning the ride would have cost close to $100). Luckily I caught her before she could do such a thing.

All in all, I feel like it was a good night. Much needed after the disaster of today's wedding. Details to come on that, I just don't have the energy to talk about it right now. The wounds are still open.

xoxo,

E

No Beer Left Behind

These past 24 hours have been epic. With $5 spent, drinking on the subway, a hearty makeout session with another hottie bar owner (not the same guy that solicited sex, but same bar), a phone left in a cab and then returned to me the following day by Mr. Cab Man, I’d say this was a night to remember. Now that you have a little insight on where this is going, we should Tarantino the night.

Yesterday was a fairly slow day in which I had no intention of going out. I went to Costco and stocked up my apartment with enough toilet paper and pasta to last me a lifetime. I received a text from a friend requesting my presence at game night and drinkies. Obviously I accepted said invitation because I love games and drinkies is a total bonus. I stopped at Target and Pathmark on my way to her apartment to pick up baking supplies and beer (blue light special on an 18-pack of Bud Lite at Pathmark… only $10.99). Needless to say, V and I finished 14 of those 18 beers before actually going out, some of which were consumed while riding the Q train from Brooklyn back to Manhattan. That is probably where the night started taking a turn for the worst, or best depending on the way you want to look at it.

As a former Peer Educator in alcohol and other drug education, I can definitely say that I broke every rule in the book for avoiding being a “high-risk drinker.” Not only did I clearly binge drink, but I also didn’t eat dinner beforehand, I took Tylenol, I wandered the streets of NY and got in a cab alone to go home. Thank you alcohol for preventing me from making good decisions.

Back to the story. So, we met up with some of V’s friends from home, where my $5 was spent to buy a drink. We moved on to the infamous TTT where dreams really do come true. Within minutes of us sitting down the bartender provides us complimentary beers and shots, thank you very much. Four beers and a shot of Jager later I find myself leaning over the bar conversing with super hottie bar owner #2 (way cuter than The Bodster might I add) and then it happened. He gazed deep into my eyes, smiled, and asked if he could kiss me. He actually asked! How crazy?!? So obviously I obliged. By this point I lost V, had another beer handed to me, and went and puked my guts out in the bathroom. Oh, so classy.

I decided that I should wait at the bar in case V was still around anywhere, which she wasn’t, but in the meantime I kept nodding off at the bar where the bartender asked if I needed to crash on his couch. I took that as my cue to leave. Walked a couple blocks, and then jumped in a cab. I then proceeded to puke on myself in the cab. I got home and climbed in bed and went to plug in my phone and couldn’t find it. I dumped out my entire purse to realize that I did not have it. Thank God that V did indeed make it home so I began calling my phone from her phone. Nice Mr. Cab Man called V’s phone from my phone at 6 a.m. and offered to bring it to me today when he started his shift at 6 p.m. Turns out there really are nice people in NYC. I now have my phone and a memory from one crazy night.

In other news, I baked some delicious treats today. It was clearly needed after the stress of last night. I went to this incredible store today in order to get the things I needed for this baking adventure. I swear, if this store is what Heaven is like, I can’t wait to die. It’s called NY Cake and Bake Supply, and they have all things baking from pans to marzipan and fondant to bakers chocolate. Oh, sweet baby Jesus! I’m sure you can now understand my excitement. I could have stayed there for hours, but I kept getting weird looks from one of the ladies that worked there because I kept wandering aimlessly around looking at everything, but not putting anything in my basket. This is a place that I will definitely be returning. You can buy 675 extra large cupcake papers for $19.99. Ah-mazing!

Enough of my rants. Seeing that it is now 9:30 p.m. and I’m just now feeling like a functioning person, I’d say that last night was successful. Oh, and on a final note, I am quite disappointed in myself. I broke the cardinal rule of drinking. No pub crawler should ever leave a beer behind. The No Beer Left Behind, NBLB, rule is a fundamental promise that all shall take when choosing to drink, yet I left a full bottle on the counter as I walked out of TTT last night. Yes it was free, but that is no excuse. I am ashamed, and am willing to accept any punishment you deem necessary to restore my drinking rights. That’s all I have, now I must hang my head in shame.

Oh, and by the way... all of the crap from my purse is still spread out all over my bed.

Thanks for the memories.

xoxo,

E

So many free drinks, but still not worth it.

How many times can you say that you’ve been propositioned for a sexual encounter? Well, I can add another one to my list. I don’t know if this is typical for girls in the city or if I just have the most random things said to me.

Best random comments of the summer:

• I will give you $100 for your shorts. (Said by a man in a business suit about my cutoff jean shorts)
• When I win the lottery, I’ll call you… then we can make another Obama. (Thank you homeless man on the subway)
• USE LESBIAN PROTECTION! (Homeless man yelled this at me, I don’t even know!)
• I'm a dancer, not a contortionist. (Girl we overheard on her cellphone)
  

Though these were random and funny, they were pretty harmless. However, last night I was talking to this bartender and we were having a completely normal conversation and out of nowhere he asked if I wanted to give him head. Wait. Hold up. What?!? Is that the way things work now? I mean, I’m no prude, but this is out of control. How is someone supposed to respond to that? I took my typical route, not that this happens often, but I just nervously laughed and asked for another drink (no worries, drinks were on him too). Do these types of things really work for guys?

With stories like these, it is hard convincing me that there are decent guys up here. Wouldn’t it be nice if it really did just rain men? Tall, blond, dark and lean, rough and tough and strong and mean! The Weather Girls know where my head is. Too bad kind, generous, humble, and chivalrous weren’t included in their description.

xoxo,

E

Cake Balls = Oh, so delicious!

Red Velvet Cake Balls

This is obviously a new obsession! Cake in any form is clearly acceptable. I have a new found love for red velvet cake so this would be my first choice, but I'm sure this would work with any combination of cake flavors and chocolate (dark, milk, white, whatever your heart desires).

Red Velvet Cake Balls
1 box red velvet cake mix (cook as directed on box for 13 X 9 cake)
1 can cream cheese frosting (16 oz.)
1 package chocolate bark (regular or white chocolate)
wax paper

1. After cake is cooked and cooled completely, crumble into large bowl.
2. Mix thoroughly with 1 can cream cheese frosting. (It may be easier to use fingers to mix together, but be warned it will get messy.)
3. Roll mixture into quarter size balls and lay on cookie sheet. (Should make 45-50. You can get even more if you use a mini ice cream scooper, but I like to hand roll them.)
4. Chill for several hours. (You can speed this up by putting in the freezer.)
5. Melt chocolate in microwave per directions on package.
6. Roll balls in chocolate and lay on wax paper until firm. (Use a spoon to dip and roll in chocolate and then tap off extra.)

I also only melt a few pieces of chocolate bark at a time because it starts to cool and thicken. It's easier to work with when it's hot.

Thanks Bakerella for the marvelous idea.

Try it! Let me know how it goes.

Women Aren't Meant to be Tamed

"I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous."
-Sex and the City



I just moved to New York from Florida and it is my first time to really be on my own. Turns out the real world is not so scary (well, as of yet... I still have a little bit of money in the bank and food in the fridge). I am working as an assistant to a fabulous wedding planner at Curtain Up Events. I have learned so much from my incredible boss, and even better, I've been able to explore my creative prowess that has been all to often tamed. I love everything domestic and craft oriented, but don't get me confused with Martha Stewart; I hope not to sport a super cool orange jumpsuit anytime soon, and I like to consider myself a lot friendlier than her.

Anyway, enough of that nonsense and on to why I am here. I moved to New York in hopes to escape the small town that I grew up in where at this age I'm expected to be running off into wedded bliss like so many of my friends currently are. However, I do not foresee wedded anything in my near future unless I'm planning it for someone else. Therefore, I moved to the city of perpetual singledom; where the guys are either D-bags (delicious banging ass guys as my sister kindly renamed them this evening) or are to consumed and focused on their job that they hate and are only continuing for the fact that they are making bank and are afraid that if they quit they won't be able to find a job like the rest of us poor souls. This leaves me in luck... single, free, and no pressures of putting a ring on it (though you buying me a drink is not frowned upon).

As for the blog, I must give all the credit to my amazing roommate (find her at Drunktaneous in the City). Though she doesn't yet realize it, she has motivated me to start a blog of my own. She is definitely one of the funniest people I have ever met, and a delight to live with. She enjoys blogging post a night of drunken debauchery (unfortunately I tend to drunk text which never ends well). No worries, I will not be blogging post-drinking because you would be frightened about what comes to my mind at those times, though I will not deny the possible posts that may occur. I'm here for anything and everything and mainly to document my crazy adventures, my laughable rendezvous, the funny things that are overhear or have shouted at me on the streets, and most importantly... to supply a few extra tips on how to walk in high heels, especially in this city.

xoxo,

E