-I totally forgot to renew my domain name so I spent the better part of Wednesday frantically emailing my host server. I was scared that if I didn’t renew right away that some spam spider would kidnap my domain and make it into a porn site (this is what happened when I deleted my blogger account). So if one day you click on my blog only to find nsfw content, then you know it’s because I am too irresponsible to maintain a blog.

-Speaking of flakiness, I unwittingly walked around the office wearing one brown high heeled shoe and one black high heeled shoe. It’s not like they are even the same style or heel height. Sometimes I also leave books in the refrigerator. And sometimes I buy groceries but leave them at the checkout counter. I guess I am just always wrapped in reverie. Or I’m just exhibiting early signs of Alzheimers.

-My weekend was awesome. Spent most of the time catching up with peeps I haven’t seen in forevs. On Friday, I met up with Vidya and her boyfriend for happy hour(s). Devoted most of the time crushing on Don Draper on Mad Men. Then I went home and caught an episode of Mad Men and fell asleep. Was awakened at midnite by a phone call from Henri saying that he was at Angels and Kings so I got my ass out of bed and met up with him.

-Angels and Kings is owned by Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy and Flat Ironed Hair Fame. The bar is okay but I am convinced that there are no more good bars in the East Village. ANOTHER good reason to move to Brooklyn SOON.

-There was a group of underaged girls in black wigs there. I know they were underaged and wearing wigs because Henri’s friend hooked up with one of them.

-Don’t trust girls in black wigs.

-I don’t wear a black wig thank you very much.

-On Saturday, went to PS1 with Henri and Vidya. If you guys have never been to PS 1 then hurry up and go now! Basically, it’s an afternoon dance party at the Museum of Modern Art’s Long Island City location. They have DJs and you can drink beer while looking at LOTS of attractive people. Oh, and art installations. But SERIOUSLY I think all the attractive people came out of hiding and went to PS 1.

-I even saw this dude I sorta dated in high school! (I say sorta because is it really considered dating when all you ever did was hangout at your locker between classes?) Anyway, I didn’t say hi because I was afraid he wouldn’t recognize me. And he obviously didn’t because he walked right in front of me and didn’t say anything.

-After PS 1, Henri and I went to a beer garden in Williamsburg. Drank too many belgian ales and ate bratwurst. Met a boy and exchanged the digits. We may have exchanged smoochies as well. Tee-hee.

-On Sunday, I had Sunday FunDay with Vidya and Sabbie. We started off at Inoteca and had panini and rosaaaay. Sabs had to leave afterwards so Vidya and I headed to Spitzers for more rosaaaay. During Sunday Funday it is imperative to drink a minimum of two alcoholic beverages and bar hop to at least two bars. It’s called Sunday FunDAY for a reason. It has to take up the entire day.

-The bartender at Spitzers kept commenting that we looked like we were having alot of fun. For some reason, Vidya and I always manage to be the loudest people anywhere. We are probs the loudest people in Manhattan.

-Then we drunk dialed Ursy–an original member of the Sunday Funday clan. She didn’t pick up so we left a long, rambling message. Something to the effect of “Omigod I’m so drunk and Sunday Funday isn’t the same without youuuuuu.”

-After Spitzers we headed to Schillers for jalapeno margaritas and mac n cheese. The bartender totally judged us for being too drunk. He said, “You’re drunk.” I don’t know why he thought that. I mean, we had only been drinking for,oh, seven hours.

-I’ve been trying not to go out during the week. Instead I spend my time watching old episodes of Mad Men and trying to finish The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. If you like tales about comic books, the immigrant experience, and World War 2, then you will probs like this book. I’ve already teared up about three times. The first time I cried I was on a plane to Vegas and thought it was just the altitude but I don’t have an excuse as to why I teared up the subsequent times.

-I am swooning over the clothes in Mad Men. I even went shopping for high waisted pencil skirts. From now on, I will prance around town in pencil skirts and heels whilst brandishing a cigarette in one hand and a glass of rye on the other. This may prove problematic on the subway.

-Oh, and between watching Mad Men and reading Kavalier and Clay (which takes place in the 1940s when the U.S. produced more tobacco than food), all I want to do is smoke cigarettes.

-So the dude I met on Saturday was actually pretty cool. He’s half Jewish and half Latin. Works in the film industry so he’s creative but also smart. He’s really nice and NORMAL. Oh, and he’s MY AGE. And he has a BEARD. He’s like a walking Jinius archetype!!!

-But then the next day I freaked out and hoped he wouldn’t call me because I am so fucked up with intimacy issues. I like to sabotage things before they even form and make excuses like “oh, what if he gets in the way of my social life or oh, what if my friends don’t like him?” I mean, who does that after meeting someone for the first time? Oh, yeah, ME.

-So the title of this post is a line from Mad Men. Don Draper jokingly tells his beatnik mistress that they should get married. She dismisses him with: “I don’t make plans and I don’t make breakfast.” This line captures my view on relationships. Oh, except I will make challah back french toast.

-But, of course, now that he hasn’t called, I want him to call me.

-I need therapy!