From Airport to Bar in Sixty Minutes

Hey turds.

As some may know, I recently traveled back to the 'burbs of Chicago for Thanksgiving. My flight landed at O'Hare at 9:15pm. I arrived at my house (after much traffic) at 10:00pm. I met my dear friend, Annie, at the bar at 10:20pm. Good use of time, right?

Now, Annie and I really haven’t gotten the chance to catch up since I moved to Boston, so we had about a month and a half of things to discuss. Needless to say, both of our lives have been unusually eventful lately, so we knew this could take at least two beers.

About 10 minutes after we arrived, drunk dude #1 walks in to the bar, beelines (while stumbling at the same time) directly toward us, and introduces himself. He must have been at least 30, but acted like he was 18 tops. He bothered us for about 45 minutes, so I’ll try to make a long walk short: he tried to set us up with his creepy short friend who did nothing to keep him in check, asked us if we were married, accused us of calling him ugly, then called me ugly, shook our hands about six times, acted offended when he offered us up to the guy across the bar (him and I had a lovely conversation about hurricane Sandy), and left/came back at LEAST seven times.

To put it lightly, I wanted to cut off his testicles with a blunt knife. Whenever Annie and I finally had 10 minutes to get deeper into our conversation, #1 would stumble back and interrupt us. Additionally, Annie and I are both too polite to tell someone to fuck off, so I had a bad feeling that if we didn’t say something this would go on for the whole night. We’d continue our process of nodding, smiling, and conversation killing.

So I finally manned up and told him to please gtfo. Except I really said something like this: “I don’t want to be rude, but my friend and I haven’t seen each other for almost two months, and it’s getting really hard to catch up with you interrupting us all the time. So would you please just leave us alone?” Pretty mature/adult, right? And it actually did the trick. 10 points to Gryffindor.

Shortly after, drunk #2 made his move. He was at the bar with his grandpa, cute right? Not so much. His g-pa ended up falling asleep while his grandson was attempting to hit on us, and the bartender had to tell him he couldn’t sleep here. #2 stared at us for a good 30 minutes before actually coming up to us (which is super creepy, don't do that.), was from Bolivia, was very impressed (for some reason) that I knew Bolivia is in South America, asked us our names three to four times, and came up to talk to us four plus times. Uh-noying.

Essentially, we were the bar’s entertainment for the night. Two different groups of girls came up to us and apologized for drunk #1 and #2, and offered to come to the rescue if necessary. Which was very nice.

In conclusion, here are my tips to how to effectively meet people at a bar (types of people may vary):
•    Wear a blazer or long sleeved t+scarf.
•    Act engulfed in your conversation, that way people will know they should interrupt.
•    Don’t make eye contact with people. This is also apparently an indication that you want to be approached.
•    Go to the bar with ONE (this is very important) girl friend. Oh, and make sure you’re a girl too.

Shout out to Abby, HOLLA.

Boyz

What up, thugs?

Warning: this blog post undoubtedly will make me come off as conceited, judgmental, and/or rude. But whatever, I tell it how it is.

K, so I've officially been in Boston for a month, and I was hoping to have met the man of my dreams by now. But alas, all of the scenarios I've concocted about meeting the perfect guy in the Public Garden or on the T on my way to work have yet to come to fruition. But never fear, friends! I've sure had some winners approach me in the past week. Check it:

Monday. Waiting for the train after work. Some dude wearing glasses, a gray track jacket, and some form of khaki-colored dress pants asks me if a Lechmere train has come by yet. I know what you're thinking: he doesn't sounds so bad at all! False. He's not wearing any form of fashionably acceptable glasses frames/shape. Wire framed. Oval. And a track jacket? Come on. Unless you're super jacked or an athlete of some sort, you just look like a dweeb (I hope you're taking notes, boys).

So I reply with something like, "No... not yet. I've only been here for a few minutes though." He doesn't say anything back, yet continues to stare at me. Smiling. Creepily. I then, of course, pretend to be fascinated by the granola bar ad across the tracks.

Another train comes by. Government Center. He looks at me again, smiling. I just kinda shrug my shoulders as if I'm actually upset my train hasn't come yet. This happens again about two more times. And I'm feeling increasingly awkward. He tries to start conversation again a few times, but it's pretty damn loud and I can't hear anything he's saying. I nod and smile, and promptly look away again. Finally the right train comes, and he looks at me AGAIN smiling. I'm determined not to have any further conversation with him. I smush my way into the train, almost have my ass pinched by the doors, and I'm free. Is it bad that I'd rather have my face in some stranger's ass than talk to that guy?

Wednesday. Waiting for the bus after work. It's snowing. A shockingly similar guy to the first one stands next to me, and asks me what time it is. TYPICAL. "It's 5:35," I reply, disinterested. Hunk #2 has the type of haircut where it's almost like he has really short bangs, and the precipitation plastering it to his forehead isn't helping him any. He then goes on to ask me if I work around here (TYPICAL), says he works by the Charles River (don't care.), and that it's too bad he forgot his umbrella today... but good things it's snowing, cause he can just shake it off his jacket (complete with a demonstration)! I reply with just enough information to not be rude. I proceed to pull out my phone, text my mom, and act as preoccupied as possible. Clearly the guys are just lining up wanting to take me out.

Now, the problem isn't necessarily with the strategy, but with the execution. Well, that combined with their poor fashion choices. I mean, A for effort and for these guys having the balls to start up a conversation with me, but what exactly did they think was going to happen? I wouldn't go asking out Brad Pitt. I'm just sayin'. Thank goodness I never gave them enough to work with for them to deem it appropriate to ask me out, cause then I'd have to make up a fake boyfriend. Ok, so I'm an asshole. Tell me something I don't know.

Take it sleazy, and I'm out.

Things I Love

Hey howdy hey.

As promised, I'm countering my negativity with things I love. I'm happy to say I think this list is considerably larger than the Things-I-Hate list, so I guess that's a good thing.

Things I love: 

Sleeping freshly changed sheets. So fresh and so clean clean.

Pickles. My roommate and I were oddly excited when we discovered that we both love pickles.

Putting in a new pair of contacts. It's like seeing the world in a whole new light... everything is so damn clear!

Asian babies. Not quite sure when this fascination started. But they're so stinking cute.

This dog. Still makes me lol.

Naps. There was a time when I took a nap every single day. And I was definitely not mad about it.

Drinking heavily and waking up without a hangover. I feel like I got away with murder or something. 

Remembering dreams. Future blog post: one of my messed up dreams.

Bow ties. Made both my prom dates wear them. What's up.

Laughing. A day is not complete without laughter. I especially love when other people's laughs make you laugh even more.

Funny people. If you can make me laugh, I want you to be my friend.

Red lipstick. Rawr. 

New Zealand accents. Not alive. You know, did.

Nail polish. I have a whole toolbox full of it. Yes, a toolbox. And I made it myself.

This song. And I especially love the photo that accompanies the video.

People watching. Everyone does it. Best when done wearing sunglasses.

Sitting on a roof/porch/balcony. I love being outside. I love having a different vantage point. And I apparently love heights.

Watching storms. GET AT ME HURRICANE SANDY

Chapstick. Specifically, Lip Smackers chapstick. Yes, I'm 7.

Post-it notes. I'm insanely organized. And Post-it notes make me happy.

Looking at the stars. I've never really lived in a place where you can see them very well, so seeing a star full of skies is like seeing a unicorn to me.

Candles. Perfect for fall. Great gifts. Good for setting the mood.

Snuggies. I was a Snuggie hater for a while, but then I got one for Christmas. They're kind of awesome. And ridiculous at the same time.

Google doodles. Those doodles during the Olympics this summer kept me entertained for longer than I'd like to admit.

Lamp.

See you later crocodile.