Wednesday, August 27, 2008

KC <3's Caffeine

Don't think I forgot about you carbs! I love you as well! But the difference here is I don't think I could survive without you.

As a silly experiment, I thought it would be interesting to detox from caffeine, wondering if I was actually dependent.

Yes. Yes I am.

I went for about a week without caffeine and noticed my body feeling a bit sluggish. I figured it must be that I was going through withdrawl and would wait it out.

Week two I broke my detox and happily drank a large cup of coffee one hungover morning and I found my heart pounding way too fast and felt almost uncomfortable in my skin. What the? I used to never feel this affect. But then again, my body hasn't not had caffeine in yearrrrs.

I immediately got a flashback of last year, where I was taking in the most amount of caffeine.

Back at my old office, I would be up and down the elevator twice a day re-filling my coffee. Then one day, me, E , and one of our other co-workers Greg decided that it was time to join forces and up the coffee factor. I brought in a coffee maker, someone else brought in a box of splenda and fat free milk, and the other would purchase the french vanilla dunkin donuts coffee.

Because it was there, we way over did it. Pot and pots of coffee were constantly being drank & re-brewed, to the point that I'm sure our other co-workers didn't know what to do with us because we three were bouncing off the walls.

Anyway, when did I give in? WELL, last night I was trying to work on a new literary endeavour and could not keep my eyes open. Seriously, I passed out around 10:30. I woke up this morning and was like, "screw this, back to caffeine"

As soon as I walked into work this morning, grabbed the biggest mug I could find and happily drank myself into a sweet wonderful caffeine induced frenzy. It's good to be back : )

Friday, August 22, 2008


According to, Harry Potter's new release date is JULY 17, 2009!

OMG OMG. WHY Warner Brother's why!??? It was supposed to open this coming November. I don't know if I can make it.

You Know What's Attractive?

Drunky little me STARVING, devouring the biggest burrito of my life in literally three seconds. I have vague memories of myself joyfully covered in guacamole & sour cream, as if it was my first birthday and was being introduced to the cake.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Oh, The Luxury Of Ingredients: The Breakfast Edition

An omelet (obviously), with spinach, olives, fresh basil from the garden (naturally), and feta cheese. Accompanied with toasted rye bread.

Now you probably figure that I must have gone food shopping and become inspired to grow a garden on my fire escape. Oh how I wish it was true, but alas, I am lazy & poor. Any chance of growing anything on the fire escape would be out of the question because our kitten gets out there and would eat up the veggies in a minute. If she didn't, than I'm sure a squirrel or pigeon would. Do pigeons like basil or mint? Well certainly, the ones who are tired of seeds and bread scraps would.

This lovely omelet was constructed at my parent's place on Sunday morning. I woke up and I immediately thought of their overly stocked fridge and garden and decided to treat myself. MM. So tasty. I brought my entire spread out to the deck to enjoy my breakfast and read the newspaper.

Dates For The Single Girls

It's great when your single and have lots of single girl friends. Without them, who would truly understand and appreciate the good, bad, and ugly dating adventures? As I mentioned a few blogs back, I got super drunk (oopsa) before meeting up for a drink date a week or two ago and onlyvaguely remember meeting with him. Strange enough, I never heard from him again. Well after I apologized, via text, for being a drunken nightmare, got a reply saying,

"it's ok, your lucky I'm so forgiving : ) "

Uckk. Obviously, he is desperate. No human being in their right mind should want to date me after the horror show that I displayed.

I never called him. He never called me. Done & done.

Then this week rolled along, and low & behold yours truly, plus two of my gal pals all had dates lined up. (Well one refuses to call it a date, but we know better). Mine was on Wednesday and before I went, these are the last parting words from two of my friends:

Emily: don't get too drunk! Sip!
Mhern: have fun!!!! don't get tipsy!!!

Great. Just great. I swear, that was the only date I ever showed up drunk. Seriously. And it wasn't even like I was super interested in him. So there.

The night turned out to be great. Really. Rarely do I see potential or interest in any one. Most people I am left with feelings of, "meh. nice guy, not bad, ho hum. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to hangout with him again." or "ABSOLUTELY not. I never want to see this person again. Too passive. Way too corny and accommodating. Weird 1/2 tooth. Too short. Weirdo hairy knuckles. Too bald. Pathetic. No conversation" and on and on and on. You get the picture.

But this guy I went out with, I really can't say a bad thing. I had a genuine good time. So now I'm left with the dilemma of what now? Will we ever hangout again? Maybe it was all in my head, he wasn't all that impressed with me, the tables have turned, and I'll never hear from him again? You know, stupid girl blah blah blah. I choose from now on to just go with it and see how things play out.

Mornings before and after dates usually consist of "So how did it go?" or "Are you excited? Nervous? Do you want to see him again..." blah blah blah

I was thinking about it yesterday and feel bad for guys because girls talk about EVERYTHING. Seriously, if I was a guy, I'd be cursing the creators of "Sex & The City", who gave girls permission to not only have sexual standards, but talk freely about everything. Two of my oldest friends & I have talked openly about pretty much anything since we started having anything good to talk about, but "Sex & The City" helped piles and piles of girls learn conversation skills to share their adventures.

Guys of course talk about stuff to a certain extent. How could they not? They are the journalists of details. They generally mention the Who, what, where, when, why, & anything weird and out of the ordinary. Rarely have I heard guys get into serious specifics. But then again, I'm a girl and how many guys want to gush about their sex lives with me? Girls on the other hand get into DETAILS. Gentlemen beware, if there is something super different or not desired by the female race, we are going to find out. That's probably why for so long women were not "supposed" to talk about their sex lives or really get into the good stuff. Men probably feared that once women started talking and discussing whats good, normal, etc., they would start making demands. Men would then have to start making an effort, stop being so selfish in bed, and start playing by our rules. Once Sex & The City hit, the power has shifted in someways and I think that's great.

So apparently I sound like a feminist a bit? To tone it down some, there are also instances when there is no need to say anything and I think that's when it's the best. We talk out of excitement, humor, disgust, or simply just to talk. But when things are at their best, I don't think you need to get into it or actually know how to express it. And that's definately what I hope for in my life.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Yet Another Immaculate Bob

I know, I know. Disgusting and I look miserable.

In my own defense, there are a few factors to consider:

(a) This picture was taken early and I'm not really wearing any makeup.

(b) I'm at work, so obviously I have a little pout on.

(c) It is god awful humid out, so the bob never had a chance.

Ahhhhhh way better. I wish you could see if from
the back to understand new Bob's beauty.
All I can say is I am very happy with it and found
a chick who works wonders on my hair.
AND the place is right around the corner from
my work.

Sloppy Nation

The business man in the beautiful pin stripe suit couldn't help but admire his reflection each time he walked by a store front. With his olive skin and shiny black hair, he was a man that exuded confidence and high class. He continued to walk down 55th Street and all the while basked in the sun and welcomed the beautiful August day. He looked down and noticed a man sitting on the steps of a church and thought to himself, "man, my life is great. I should really share the wealth with the less fortunate."

So with that, he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out what it appeared to be a shiny gold coin, perhaps a Sacajawea. Leaning down, he put it in the man on the steps hand, while giving him a smile, as if to say, "despite being a gross un-showered homeless man, I still consider you an equal human being".

And he whistled walking away, felt saturated in generosity.

Meanwhile, the man on the steps looked perplexed.


I was walking behind this scene last week and actually laughed out loud. Why did the man in the suit assume the dude on the steps was homeless just because he was sitting around?
Then the Suit's phone rang and he started jabbing away in what sounded like Italian.
Is that really was the Europeans think of us? We Americans are just a country filled with filthy homeless people? I guess I would too if I was some classy Parisian, where my home was the place style was given birth to. NYC is supposed to be the fashion capital of the country, but have you seen some of horrors on the street? And I would have to include myself in this category too.

Compared to a well dressed European, I got nothing to work with here.

That got me thinking about how sloppy a nation we truly are. How often do you notice people out on the streets who obviously just jumped out of bed minutes earlier. I cringe at the sight of stretched out velour tracksuits intertwined with a frumpy stay-at home mom body, topped with a crazy-lady-hair -scrunchy combo. Honestly, I often feel intimidated when I have a bad hair day (ugh like today. you should see the edgy bob. It has obviously grown since the cut late June, so now it's mutated into a weirdo shabby bob. Good thing I'm getting a haircut later) or am not wearing the best possible outfit when walking down Fifth Avenue in a pack of the fashionable Europeans.

I think a big difference is that they choose quality over quality. While Americans bask in the notion of owning 8000 pairs of flip flops, Europeans will have 3 pairs of the most beautiful and exquisite shoes ever to grace the earth.

Sure we have some fashion and style here, but how do we compare our homeless to their equivalent, the gypsies? Our homeless just sit around, pan handle, and make people feel uncomfortable. Why even yesterday while jetting off to the subway, I encountered one who was shaking and ticking as if he just swallowed a bomb minutes from explosion, muttering to himself, "must not get hit by the rain. The rain will make me wet, the rain will make me wet." About a minute later, I almost got knocked over by one proclaiming, "having sex with a woman IS A SIN", over and over and over again.

At least theirs are nomads, play music ,and keep the people entertained. If our homeless were eccentric and talented, I would be wayyy more generous with my quarters, nickels, & dimes. Alas, they are all borderline crazy, so I will continue to keep my head down & pretend they don't exist

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Bad Karma KC

Whenever something goes wrong in my life I immediately blame it on karma and the fact that I am obviously being punished for something I've done in my life. And despite my efforts in being a good human being, I can count on my fingers & toes experiences in life that I am not too proud of. And most of those experiences involve alcohol. Ooopsa.

This morning I am greeted to work with an email reprimanding me doing something that was not my fault, but an error of someone I assist. Now you may be saying, "oh Kristine, just suck it up and take responsibility for your wrong doings". I suppose I should have been paying closer attention, but regardless, I was given orders to change something, without any knowledge to why it was being adjusted. So this just swooped the day into miserable-madness.

THEN. I got some bill from a dentist appointment I had LAST NOVEMBER, claiming I owe them $450....but why? Isn't that what insurance is for? OHHH NO HOO apparently not and apparently they never took the insurance. But how did I find this particular dentist? Oh that's right, on the insurance's website. So they gave me some bullshit explanation and that it is my responsibility to make sure the doctor sends the insurance the claim. And what else? I will have to pay and there is nothing I can do about it.

(snarl, a little whimper and a sigh)

"Thank you for calling Reliance Standard Health Insurance. You opinion counts. Would you take a brief survey about the level of assistance we just provided?"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? BADDDDD assistance. No no no!"

(Phone slammed)

As I sat there and started shaking the woes of the day out of my head, the next bomb dropped.
I received a text from my roommate, Courtney that said,

"Hey girls, I wont be around this weekend...

Ok. I don't care. When are you ever around? And p.s., we don't hang out.

"And I just wanted to give you a heads up that I'm looking to move out by 9/15."

OH GOD. Isn't that just great.

So what am I being punished for you ask? Well it could one of many things:

1) Complaining about my current situation, when in fact it's not all that bad compared many others.

2) The fact that I lived most of my life as a horror of a daughter to my parents, giving them daily grief and I'm sure wondering what went wrong in their parenting.

3) I've been selfish and un-intentionally inconsiderate with other people's feelings.

4) I never donate money to worthy causes and NEVER stop at lemonade stands.

5) I am awkward and I'm sure that equals mean to children & senior citizens.

I can only imagine how the rest of the day plays out.
It is only 4:06.
We still have a lot more day to live.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Update: Maybe Don't Say Yes To Everything..

When we last spoke, I was toying with the idea of embracing all opportunities and just saying yes. Yes to dates I was once weary of. Yes to new experiences. Yes to new and exciting different foods. Yes yes yes.

But then we must remember that I am all things excessive, so maybe saying yes to everything is not such a good idea. One more after party? Yes! One more cocktail? No, make it two! Never go home on a work night? Good call!

I had my date scheduled and ready to go with my bar boyfriend, but then remembered I had a work event that I absolutely had to attend. I gave him a call to see if he either a) wanted to go out afterwards or b) re-schedule. He was down meeting after, remembered me rambling on about how much I liked Thai food, so suggested to come meet me at my office around 8:30, we'd take a cab downtown, and get some Thai. That sound's good right? And for the girl who only takes cabs in times of necessity or luxury, all very wonderful.

The event at my office was on our 33rd floor terrace, with the theme of "Outdoor BBQ". It was very cute and had potential to be a blast. Um open bar & free food, what's not to love? Except because I am an assistant, had the job of working the event, with the fabulous job of greeting guests, guiding them to the bar and bag check. Luckily, the bar was inches away and after a co-worker or two suggested I should bring a drink to the front, happily agreed and that was when it all went down hill.

1 glass of wine
2 glasses of wine
3 glasses of wine
4 glasses of wine

Throw in a couple of walk-around appetizers and an asparagus panini and I got a bit of social-drunky. Everyone has their own definition of social drunky. Some get way too honest. Some get mean and way too blunt, touchy- feely, or emerge as super chatty McChatterson. That was were I fit in, which I'm sure mind boggled my co-workers because I generally do not speak at work. All of a sudden, propelled by glasses of white wine, not only chatted co-workers up, but clients as well! And I'm not going to lie, but I had a pretty good time.

Around 8:30 the party was in full force and everyone was planning on moving it along to a bar across the street. I called bar bf and cancelled on him because I didn't want to leave clients and co-workers and he was totally cool and understanding and down to do it some other time.

Wouldn't that be nice if this was the end of the story? Oh its not. We have way more night to cover.

So we all go across the street, where I quickly and stupidly switched over to vodka sodas, mingled a bit, and then left. No memory of saying goodbye to people and I'm pretty sure I just snuck out knowing I shouldn't be in the presence of superiors in the state I was quickly going into.

So I went home.
Ha if only...

At that point, I figured I may as well call bar bf to meet for a drink, because obviously I so needed one, and he lived right around there anyway. I called him and we met up. From what I gather, it was raining, I had NO umbrella, and walked right by him. I can only assume he had a great time with images of his future girlfriend dancing in his head with me, the belligerent wet dog, who muttered things like "you better not bar snuggle with me like last time" and "I am soo taking of work tomorrow or I'll be missssserable".

Somehow we parted ways. I got myself safely to Hoboken and then emailed my bosses to let them know I would be taking a summer Friday.

(The end)

A revision to living life with a yes attitude: Say yes if you never do, but if your a girl of excess like me, simply be open to the world with a positive prospective

If I had my way, I'd never go home, stay out to the last possible second, and burn the candle at both ends for the rest of my life. Thankfully, there is still a little whisper in the back of my head that ghostly murmurs, "goooo don't want to be miserable tomorrow.....gooo toooo don't need to buy another party dress...."

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Say Yes To Life!

Ahhh after a mere week or so, I completed yet another of Augusten Burrough's memoirs " Wolf At The Table", which by the way was wonderful. If you haven't had a chance to ever read any of his work, go! Quickly! Go to Barnes & Noble, the library, or ask and I'll lend you a copy. His life is an absolute inspiration for anyone of strength and overcoming huge obstacles, and all the while still making a huge success in life and as a person.

In a panic of nothing to read, I turned to the category of books I own that I can read over and over again. These are basically the in between books when nothing I have is striking my fancy at the moment, but I need something.... So I turned to a much loved book , "The Year of Yes", by Maria Dahreana Headley.

Ever read it? Her book was hysterical and a 1-2-3 read. After a lifetime of bad dating and constant weirdos hitting on her, Maria discovered she was her own worst enemy and had no judgement when it came to the people she dated. For one year, she said yes to every single person that asked her out. I won't spoil the ending, but she takes the reader on a roller coaster ride of some just weird guys all the way down to god-awful crazies. And I'm not talking in a good way.

I think I relate to her especially because I know EXACTLY how she feels. I too am constantly bombarded with crazies, and when a at first-glance normal approaches me, it is only a matter of time for them to fall for me and then immediately lose their mind. As in drop the "I could spend my life with you" bomb or my personal favorite, "the one regret in life I have is never sleeping with you...". Thanks. Thank you very much.

So in a fit of inspiration and the fact that my dating life has been looking pretty bleak, I thought, "maybe I should give this whole year of yes a try". I really am too quick to judge and often regret casting people aside so hasty. I could name a name or two of people who I wish I could have had a second chance. But, *sigh*, you live & learn and can only hope that life actually teaches you a thing or two.

This whole year of yes won't work for me. Almost immediately after I made this deal with myself, I went out for happy hour/night with some friends and friends of friends and was bombarded by a guy who basically appointed me as his "bar gf" and then "bar spooned" me the remainder of a night. Note: this is not attractive boys. Well. Unless I'm super into you, maybe, but usually it is a deal breaker. Give the girl some room to breath for god sake.


My bar bf has called me numerous times over the past few weeks to go out for dinner/drinks/whatever and I've been reluctant. If you can do that to a stranger, lord only know how pda-ish he'd be if we eventually dated or something. Or maybe he doesn't get girls and because I showed a smidgen of interest, went all out. See this is how my mind works. Dating for the past ten years or so, have become jaded and don't take it as a compliment, but more of a:

Hmm. What is he up to? Does he do this to every girl? There must be something sneaky going on. There MUST be something wrong with him....

I actually talked to him this week and agreed to go out tonight, so we'll see how it goes. I've decided that instead of just saying yes to everyone who asks me out (which is not going to happen in NYC, the land of the crazies), but instead just say Yes To Life and embrace all the opportunities that fly my way. For too long I think I've been saying, no no no, instead of taking a look of what's really in front of me.

I'll keep you posted. I may be singing a different tune tomorrow...

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Guilty Pleasures....But Why So Guilty?

Guilty Pleasure: is known as something one considers pleasurable despite feeling guilt for enjoying it. Fashion and food can be examples of guilty pleasures.

We all have them. For some of us it's being a very well read individual, but at the same time secretly having a love for trashy romance novels. Or perhaps it's the musical snob who solely listens to random underground music, but for some weird reason or another can't seem to shake the Spice Girls.

Why do we have guilty pleasures anyway? Why be ashamed of what our mind, body, & soul ache for? I think it must have something to do with what society expects of us and the image of what we think we are v.s the one we display. I'm just happy that as I have gotten older & older, have found myself lose these insecurities, if you will, in exchange of a "whatever! I will rejoice my weird quirks and what I love" mentality.

Some of my include:

(1) Harry Potter! I have had friends actually shake their heads at me and say, "I didn't think you were one of those people Kris", to which I respond, "I LOVE HARRY POTTER! I can't wait for the movies and I'm dressing up as my favorite character. And you know what, you just wait. Read one of the books and you'll be singing a different tune".

Why even last night, my friend Hennessey called to chat and when she asked what I was doing, I replied, "Oh you know, just watching the new Harry Potter movie trailer (again) on youtube. Little did she know that while I was watching the trailer, "Harry Potter & The Order of The Phoenix" was muted on my tv. Maybe that crossed the line of guilty pleasure to creepy obsession?

(2) Liverwurst and pickle sandwiches. My mother, a woman who loves her heritage, happily fed her children all sorts of German foods, including, yes Liverwurst. When I initially figured out what it was made of, was absolutely alarmed and disgusted. Eventually, I got over it and learned to embrace liverwurst for all of it's wonderfulness

(3)Musicals. Musical Theatre is one of my loves. Growing up, I was consistently a member of choirs and musical productions and though I was surrounded by people within the choirs, no one at school ever did those kind of things. I remember feeling like something was different. When I was 11 and had the chance to audition with my choir to be on Broadway, I didn't tell anyone because it was out of the ordinary, so I guess that's maybe when it almost became a guilty pleasure. Thankfully, I grew up, became friends who were peers as well as musical theatre lovers, and got over my weirdness.

There is only one instance, that I can think of, when I get mortified by my musical theatre loving ways. On the way to & fro work, I pass lots of Broadway shows, depending on the route in which I take. We got Mama Mia, Young Frankenstein, Avenue Q, The Little Mermaid, Mary Poppins, Legally Blonde, Rent, The Heights, Zanadu, Chicago, Spamalot, The new one with Harry Potter in it, Grease, and I'm sure many many more I can't recall at the moment. Without fail, every time I walk by Rent, Chicago, or Mama Mia, one of the songs from the chosen musical will pop onto my ipod, as if it knows we are walking by the homeland and needs to make a shout-out so the theatre can hear. Meanwhile, I am frantically rummaging through my bag attempting to lower the song. What if someone heard?

I'd so be that musical theatre geek that purposely walked by Rent daily and everyday would fumble through my play list in search of "Seasons Of Love" as a mini-tribute. I would then rip my shirt off to reveal the Rent tank top underneath that I would ALWAYS wear and creepy smile with connection and envy at the people outside the theatre waiting to go in.

No. I'm not that bad yet.