I’m a Jinius

Wanna know the best panacea for the winter blues? I shall prescribe one for you. Get thee a juicy burger, a frosty glass of brown ale, and a plate of warm donuts. Oh, and share this with great company!

Vidya and I went to my favorite new bar (well, it’s actually a restaurant but I always end up sitting at the bar!) last night. She had a Manhattan and I started off with beer. I figure it’s not a sage decision to be drinking bourbon on an empty stomach. (more…)

Friday
It was the end of the week and I decided to reward myself by going to happy hour. (Did BF Skinner invent happy hour?) My friends and I convened at my new favorite bar. It’s my favorite because they serve this drink that is like the master cleanse but spiked with bourbon and they have a hot bartender who graduated highschool in 2002 (wtf??) and gives out free donuts. Is it a coincidence that now every time I see a donut I start salivating? Is someone doing a behavioral experiment on me??

Anyhoo, my hot bartender was not there which was probably a good thing because my friends and I quickly became the loudest people in the place. We knew we were loud when we stopped talking and could actually hear the music in the background.Everyone around us was chatting quietly and eating dinner whereas we were laughing like hyenas. Whatever, I think we were entertaining. If only to ourselves. (more…)

I know, I know. How could I do that to him? And on Valentines Day of all days?!?!

But I heard the siren call of open bar at The Delancey and all my friends were going. So I was all “peace out, home slice.”

Sorry, baby, but I had to hang out with three dimensional people.

Anyway my ass had to dance to Bonafide Lovin’. (Thanks Fleetweek DJs! You guys rock the hizzouse!!!)

Oh, I learned that Guinness is neither low carb nor low cal. It’s a myth. Like evolution. In fact it has alot of sugar. I wish I had learned this earlier, I had like three pints last night!!! I knew there was a reason it tastes like a milk shake!

So this beer drinking thing is at least helping me in the “staying relatively sober so I can remember how I get home” department. But it’s no good for the expansion of my waist line. I can’t win!!!

Ilana forwarded me this NY Times article about a woman who went to our alma mater back in the sixties and made extra money in college by babysitting. And through babysitting she discovered the joys of raiding her employer’s fridge. Something I fondly remember exploiting as well.

I think the most memorable family I babysat for was this Italian couple with three boys ranging in age from 4-7. Okay, I don’t know how those parents did this on a daily basis because do you know how hard it is to look after THREE RAMBUNCTIOUS ITALIAN BOYS??? Oh my god, I need a massage just thinking about it. I must’ve been 18 or 19 at the time and I remember being so tired after the first gig that I came home and vowed I would never babysit again and passed out in bed.

But I returned. The money was too good. And the food was even better.

The parents were straight up from Italy and ran an Italian restaurant in the city. So you can just imagine the heavenly treats they had stored in their fridge. Fresh mozzarella.Lightly breaded chicken cutlets that were so juicy I could gobble three at a time. Leftover pasta with the most heavenly marinara sauce. I could bathe in that marinara! Oh, and the sweets! They had an entire pantry just devoted to imported Italian cookies and chocolate!

For a 19 year old college student who subsisted on the monotonous menu of a meal plan, this was heaven. If heaven were a kitchen on the Upper West Side. (more…)

In honor of VD, this week’s blog theme will be Modern Love. Today’s episode is about Match.com!

I am by no means an onling dating expert. I only did it for a couple of months and went out with two guys. I was also probs more picky than the average person. I got annoyed at guys who had spelling errors and typos in their profile. Um, yeah, don’t date bloggers.

But I culled tips and stories from my guy and girl friends who also did match.com and put together a comprehensive yet haphazard guide to popping your online dating cherry. Let’s just hope your cherry doesn’t explode like the Hindenburg.

So now I will pass on these stories and suggestions to you. Yes, dear readers, my friends and I date crazy people so you don’t have to.

Okay, you may ask yourself “why go out with someone on Match.com?” I mean, it’s a risky move–like investing in a junk bond. But sometimes online dating is helpful because it gives YOU the upper hand. You, dear reader, are selecting from a pool of people who all want to be selected.

I have to admit that when I first joined Match it was a bit of an ego boost. Within the first couple of hours after putting up my profile I had a bunch of emails in my inbox. But then I examined these men who were sending me emails and winks (winks are an innocuous way of saying hey I’m interested but if you don’t write back it won’t hurt my ego because I didn’t go out of my way to write you a message…more on winking later) and I noticed that half of these dudes didn’t even live in New York City. Most of them didn’t even live in the tri-state area!

I specifically put in my profile that I was only seeking men who lived in NYC. Why the hell were dudes in Virginia writing me??? Did they really think I was going to see them long distance?

So,yeah, be prepared to get messages from people who don’t live near you. And when you don’t answer them, be prepared to get second or third messages from them. That’s what I noticed about Match guys. They are persistent. I think it’s because most of them don’t even remember messaging you in the first place. They must just send out blanket messages to all the women on there.

Okay, so that’s the initial stage of Match. Now let’s get to the good part. How to determine if the elusive person behind the screen is your potential partner. Or potential nightmare. (more…)

New Yorkers are always joking that they have a drinking problem. This is because we all have drinking problems.

I mean, why bother shelling out 25 bucks for a museum or 50 bucks for a play when you can buy 2-for-1 martinis at your local bar? Not only is it more economical but you even benefit from alcohol’s palliative properties to numb the stresses of urban life. Score!

So, yeah, New Yorkers drink excessively. And it’s easy to dismiss this behavior by saying “Well, it’s not like I wake up and have to drink a handle of vodka to make it through the day.” We just drink the equivalent of a handle of vodka throughout the week.

I guess I was never really concerned about my drinking behavior until I noticed this year that I was sending alot more emails and texts that started with “I’m sorry if I was so drunk last night…”

And then the other day my friend leaves me a message saying, “Hey, I just wanted to see what happened with you last night? You were acting very un-Jiniusesque.”

Ummm what does that even mean? Was I doing calculus at the bar or something? Now that would be out of character for me.

But I have to admit I was embarrassed. It’s hard to feel proud about yourself when your friends are telling you that you were acting strange. I mean, it is one thing to get drunk and start dancing on the tables (behavior I fully endorse) but to get so drunk that you’re speaking in non sequiturs? That’s just weird.

So I emailed with my friend Fab. I figured she could offer some insight as someone who’s known me since college and knows my drinking behavior. And now she lives in LA and can offer an outsider’s perspective on the whole New York drinking scene.

Here’s what she had to say. Please feel free to leave stories and suggestions in the comment box. You can even leave an anonymous comment. (more…)

I’m siiiiick.

I rolled into work today at like 10:30. I would have called in sick but the last time I did that my boss said single people shouldn’t get sick because they don’t have anyone to take care of.

Ummmkay, I thought single people were the first ones to die of heart disease and shit?!

On another note, how come no one ever gave me the memo that Guiness is like really awesome? It tastes like a milkshake! And Vid told me that it’s low in calories! I am soo replacing my morning coffee with a pint of Guiness.

Oh yeah, I fell off the wagon. Or is it on the wagon? Whatever, at this point I need an ambulance. I met up with my friend Vidya for happy hour because we were both having shitty days and by the end of the evening I had a smile on my face. Albeit a drunken/half smile. It’s amazing how three glasses of wine, a pint of Guiness, bacon wrapped dates, and funny conversation can change your outlook on life.

But now I’m sick and want to kill myself again.

Oh and the 25 yr old texted me last night. I replied “you have texticular cancer lol”.

He never responded.

I meant texticular cancer in a benign way!

Drats.

1. I’m on my second week of “not drinking alcohol during the week” program and spend most of my time being antisocial, working on my play, watching reality shows on Bravo, and reading in bed. Sobriety is overrated!!!

2. I deleted the 25 year old’s number because he suffers from an acute case of texticular cancer*–a disease that afflicts men in the island of Manhattan between the ages of 21-40. Symptoms include texting in the middle of the night, texting instead of calling, texting while out drinking, texting instead of talking, carpal tunnels syndrome as a result of texting, and a wan complexion due to the glowing screen of their blackberry.

3. I tried doing the master cleanse for a day and was ready to seriously maim someone by noon. Fellas, if you’re ever dealing with a bitchy woman it’s probably not because of pms but due to low blood sugar. Now I know why the Olsen twins never smile in photos!

4. So I was reading Time magazines “Single people should just get it over with and kill themselves” issue. One of the articles is about the health benefits of being married. Apparently single people have health issues because we don’t have anyone yelling at our fat ass to stop eating ramen. Um, hello, I do no eat ramen for dinner thank you very much. I have wraps and ferrero rochers! Geesh, if you’re going to promote stereotypes about single people you don’t have to make us sound so…pedestrian.

5. One of the articles talked about the science of love and the whole pheromones thing and how women subconsciously select their primary care provider based on his scent and can discern if their genes will get along in the champagne room. But the birth control pill may affect the way women evaluate their partner’s smell and cause them to make wrong partner choices. This explains why I was so dickmatized during my early twenties when I was on the pill and have no interest in hooking up with any of the guys I dated before the age of 25. Love ya like a sister!

6. The chocolate chip cookies at Subway are off-the-hook. Yum.

7. I ran into my hot neighbor this morning. This is how our conversation ensued:

Neighbor: Good morning.
Me: Hummana Hummana.

He makes me feel like I’m sixteen. I think it’s because he IS sixteen. Ugh, just call me Mary Kay Letorneau.

8. Happy Friday!

*texticular cancer was first coined by my friend Elissa, an expert in the field of urban anthropology.

Happy Friday, dear readers! You must be counting down the hours until your impending happy hour.

Lushes.

You’re my kind of reader.

And while you are deciding on your game plan for this evening and your exit strategy from your one night stand tomorrow morning (beer goggles!), I am writing to you from a dark and depressing dungeon also known as my cubicle. I’m also trying to blog and work at the same time whilst also eating turkey meat loaf.

Life doesn’t get any better. Oh, it does? Then shoot me.

Let’s see, what’s been going since we’ve last…blogged? Oh, yes, the sobriety thing. I will have you know that I have not touched a drop of alcohol since Sunday (I guess anything is possible). I know it’s only been like five days but already my skin looks clearer, my pants seem looser, and my outlook on life is just brighter! What is going on??? What is this hex that sobriety has cast upon me??? Shut! It! Down!

I also finished a draft of the first act of my play.When I first read through it, I was laughing out loud to myself (Who laughs at their own jokes like a crazy person? Um, yeah, me) and I deemed it the best thing since pizza bagels. Then I re-read it the next day and thought it was the biggest piece of turd to enter my apartment. What happens in those twenty fours that manages to turn your piece of art into a piece of shit? I don’t know. I think staring at your computer screen into the wee hours manages to give you delusions of grandeur. Drats. Back to the drawing board.

Work has been…whatever. If I could list every single euphemism for getting screwed in the ass I would list them here.

But I am so excited because in a few hours (hopefully!) I will be on a train to see my friends in Boston! I will be seeing Binne and Ilana, the OG roommates. Holler!

I will try to be a good girl.

Ha!

Note to self: Excessive coffee drinking and multi tasking may lead to an inchoate blog post.

I saw Madeleine Albright speak at the 92nd Street Y the other day and my crush on her escalated even more. Not only was she the first female secretary of state and the first American official to meet with a certain autocratic ruler of a highly isolated country, but girlfriend can leg press 400 pounds.

She also has a razor sharp wit. She told us this story about how she was invited to the White House for a dinner with former Secretaries of State and Defense, “Rarely have I ever felt so young.” and when she had a moment to speak with President Bush she said, ” ‘Mr. President, I don’t know why you act as if you invented democracy when you know I did.”

Luckily, he laughed at her joke.

After the lecture, I waited thirty minutes for her to sign my book. The ushers said that we could have her personalize the message or just get her signature. What the hell was I going to do with a book that was dedicated to me? Isn’t that lame? I decided to just get her signature. Everyone else ahead of me got their books personalized. Oh, well.

While I felt inspired and awed during the lecture, I couldn’t help but feel a little deflated afterward. I mean, I’m sure Madeleine Albright was not the type of woman that ever passed out in bed after a night of drinking. And I chided myself for not having the discipline to moderate my party habits and do something more with my professional life. Would I have achieved more success if it were not for my propensity to do soju shots and then curl up in fetal position on my bathroom floor?

Then yesterday I went to yoga class and ran into this girl I know. I hardly recognized her. She seemed so mellow, glowing from the inside out. “I haven’t had alcohol in 4 months,” she explained.

FOUR MONTHS.

Wow. No matter how many times I puke on the sidewalk or pass out at home, I still continue to drink alcohol like an indefatigable frat boy. But the minute I see that someone has better skin and a leaner body from not drinking alcohol, I want to jump on the wagon.

Vanity is a great motivator.

So, yeah, I’m thinking of curtailing the drinking.

Will you still love me when I am sober?

And boring?