Mommie Creepiest

I just had a brief phone conversation with my mom about Christmas gifts. She wanted to know what I want, so I told her the only thing I really want is Jay-Z's new autobiography. She doesn't know who that is and she hates hip-hop music*, so I can only imagine what she wrote down to remind her of what I actually want. Does J.C. Chasez have an autobiography yet? I'll probably get that.
Then, I asked her what she wanted for Christmas, and without missing a beat she said, "I want to smell like Sarah." Creeeeeeepy. Sarah is one of my best friends and she used to work at Lush, and truthfully does always smell delicious. My mom first sniffed her when she visited earlier this fall and told Sarah and me privately many - MANY - times how intoxicating she smells. My mom sure is creepy.

* She took away my cassette of the Dangerous Minds soundtrack from me when I was younger. I cried. I didn't appreciate it at the time, but she was saving me from myself and from Coolio, too.

How To Get Dumped BEFORE a First Date

A few weeks ago, I went to a happy hour with a friend from work. Because this place offered insane deals (mussels for $3, anyone?), it was really packed and we had to mill around the periphery of tables and stalk anyone who was leaving. While standing around, half listening to each other while we eyed tables, a good looking guy came over and started talking to us. He seemed really nice (a kindergarten teacher and basketball coach) and eventually he leaned over to me and said, "You have an incredible smile." Aw, yeah. It's "on", as they say.
He was there with his aunt and mother; we exchanged numbers on the sly so he wouldn't get grief from his mom. Plus, he was already getting enough grief from me because he was drinking a watermelon martini.
The next morning, I woke up to a text from him. "Someone is thinking about you." Depending on how deep you make your voice when you read that aloud, it's either really sweet or the most frightening thing ever. I chose the former, and felt crushy.
Now, being Type A and having (mostly) all Type A friends, I make plans way in advance. For example, I have plans through November 2010 already. So, in texting, he wanted to get together as soon as possible, but I wasn't available until yesterday. We met April 15th.
In between then and now, he'd send text messages that'd say, "Think about me on your trip to Costa Rica" or "I will wait for you because I think you're worth it". With each additional text, the voice in my head would read them with a deeper and deeper voice, making them scarier. I'm really not used to that sort of attention. I used to have to beg my most recent ex-boyfriend to tell me I'm pretty or funny (editor's note: feel sorry for me!!). But, with my friends' encouragement and insistence, I decided that I'd just have fun and go out with him.
We texted again last Wednesday to set yesterday up - all over text. Sunday passes, no location is set up, no time. Monday morning, into afternoon, into evening: nothing. Then, late last night I get a text from him that says, "This is my second text. I thought we had similar feelings for each other. I guess not?" I NEVER got the first text, and not in the "Oops! I didn't see that" lying kind of way, like, legitimately didn't. Also, "similar feelings"? We have never even gone out!
I figured I'd text him today, tell him I didn't get the first text, but before I could do that I got this final text this morning, "Wow. Nothing? Nice. Well, take care!"
I think it's safe to say I dodged a crazy bullet, and will try my best to find a guy who CALLS to set up plans, and doesn't rely on text. Oh, and doesn't drink watermelon martinis.

Waiter, There's a Baby Leg on My Beach

I went down to Ft. Lauderdale, Fla. for a few days for a work conference; it was so nice to be outside without a jacket and scarf for a few days.

A colleague and I went for a walk on the beach together, with the warm water splashing over our toes. We had to weave in and out of piles of jellyfish that were brightest blue I'd see outside of a box of crayons. Then, we had to avoid another hazard, a baby leg:

Overheard Conversations I Wish I Didn't Overhear

Woman on phone: Yes, hello. I need to make an appointment for another pap smear.
...
Woman on phone: When? Well, I'm wide open.

Grope Gripe

On the commute home last night I got really excited when I saw a seat available on the subway. I took out my iPod and book and started reading.

The guy sitting next to me had a backpack on his lap and looked like he had a rough day and probably needed the love a good woman. Unfortunately, he decided to choose my left thigh as a good place to start.

When I sat down his hands were underneath his backpack; when I sat down he placed them at his sides - this isn't proper train etiquette.

I continued with my book (read: using my peripheral vision to keep an eye on his hand) and within seconds, the guy had his palm resting on my thigh. Mistakes happen, so I gave him the "what the fuck" eyes - the same eyes you give to someone talking in a movie theater. He didn't flinch, just looked back.

Had this worked for him before?

I got up immediately - sad to relinquish reading time - and scowled the rest of the way home. It might be time for New York to adapt like the Japanese.

Calling all babies!

In the kitchen at work there is the creepiest flier posted on one of the cabinets.

I've seen ads for roommates needed, shopping promotions and some great passive aggressive notes, but this one is by far the worst.

The headline? Calling all babies!

For what? An uncompensated photo shoot where they dress your baby up to define Yiddish words. They want babies of ALL shapes, sizes, races and dispositions.

If anyone would like the information to sign your baby up, please let me know.