Neighbor

I was approaching my building today and was behind my next door neighbor who had just taken her dog out for a walk. To avoid having to ride up in the elevator with her I went into the grocery store, pretended to be interested in the magazines, decided she'd had enough time to get upstairs, then proceeded to go to my building.

I'm so lame but I don't like her and she never says hi to me even though I say hi to her and she smells weird.

On another note, I haven't had sex in seven months. I'm not interested in breaking any records. I've accomplished enough in my life. This has become a problem for me when I meet a guy I actually like. We're supposed to hold off on having sex with them for awhile right? I know there are no absolutes in dating but typically men like a bit of a chase - caveman instincts, yada, yada - but the problem is I'm 33 years old...in the prime of my sexual peak...and I NEED it!

I finally understand what my 18-year-old-football-player boyfriend was talking about back in high school. He wasn't lying!

So when I meet a guy I'm attracted to it's tough for me not to pounce. But I must control myself.

No pouncing. NO pouncing.

In the meantime though... I wish my guy from LA would come visit me. Or my guy from Atlanta. Or at the very least I need to find a London guy to keep me going until a Man comes along....

I've tried Match.com in both LA and NYC. I just joined the London network. Let's see what happens. So far only one guy who's sent a message is remotely cute enough to elicit a response.

Just knowing he's out there though... whatever his real name is... keeps the hope alive.

No pressure of course.

Last night

It was very nice of this guy, Matt, to invite me out with his friends last night. I met him a few weeks ago when I went by myself to watch a UGA football game. He didn't go to the school but was there with a friend of his who did. Ever since then he's texted me a few times here and there wondering if I'd like to grab drinks with some friends of his.

Last night he told me he was going out with his 3 female roommates and others to celebrate someone's birthday. It was perfect because I didn't have any plans. So I took a shower, got ready, spent 20 minutes deciding what outfit to wear then spent $20 on a taxi to get to the bar called 64th & Social.

It was a little TOO social for my taste. I was basically miserable the entire night. I have no desire to get shit-faced anymore (I've determined after 16 years of getting shit-faced that I've had quite enough) and when I arrived they were all just that...shit-faced...and celebrating a girl's birthday by doing body shot after body shot of Petron off of each other's breasts, making out with each other, taking photos, etc. Then Matt turned to me and said, "I'm really just a shy accountant." What I think is that he was probably a bit geeky in school and now he's built up his confidence, made some money and had the great fortune of finding 3 partying women to live with.

Good for him! I just don't feel like participating in that sort of thing anymore (although for the record I've never done a body shot in my life or made out with any of my girlfriends). Plus, the bar was really crowded and their table was right in the middle of the crowd. There was nowhere for me to sit so I stood next to the table getting pushed and shoved for the next 3 hours while I pretended I was fine with it.

Forgetting that supression of emotions never works I eventually shoved a guy in the back. Immediately realizing I crossed the line I smiled at the guy and gave him a "sorry I don't know what I was thinking" look. Luckily, he moved on. This bar brought out a very bad side of me.

We left the bar because we were all getting tired of the crowds which I was very happy about (only the unattractive annoying guys were hitting on me) but we just stood outside for about 45 minutes not making a decision about our next destination. It was so annoying (because I was still sober) but they finally decided to go to the place next door because 2 girls went in there to dance and the thought of going in there and convincing them to leave was too much for everyone to bear so we all gave in and followed them.

The place was totally lame but we stayed anyway. I should've just gone home at that point but I had gotten too many, "Come on, Stacey," "Relax, Stacey" type comments and I had something to prove I suppose.

I'm SO TIRED of people pressuring me to drink. Just leave me alone!!! Just because I'm not drinking doesn't mean you shouldn't go right on ahead. It shouldn't make you have any less of a time just because I'm not participating. And just because I don't feel like dancing to MC Hammer's "You Can't Touch This" doesn't mean I'm lame.

The DJ played "Mr. Brightside" by my beloved Killers so I bopped around and then finally called it a night.

I'm so over the bar scene. It was very nice of Matt to invite me out but I'm so over it. Over it all.

I'm slowly coming back...

...this has been the toughest move! I've been here 3 months and things are just now starting to settle down. Man.

I had a good weekend. Went out with a girl Friday night who took me to the Punchbowl (among other places) but I was too drunk to remember. I didn't eat much but drank much and then puked much when I got home. Horrible! Saturday I was in recovery. Then Sunday I had lunch with my friend Kathryn and some of her friends. To my surprise a guy I know from NYC was there and he's moving here! I'm SO EXCITED because he's a very cool guy and it'll be so nice to have a familiar face.

The rest of Sunday Kathryn and I went to the Rothko exhibit at the Tate Modern then walked along the river taking photos and talked about relationships - or rather our lack of them.

In our mutual groups of friends we're among the last singles standing so we can relate to each others varied emotions about our status' (or is it stati?).

Monday night I went to dinner with her again and another group of her friends. They were SO GREAT because they were so easy to talk with and all of them were people I would hang out with.

One girl walked in and I immediately recognized her. My friend Alex invited me to join that website, A Small World, so I did. And on her page is a girl named Laura who lives in London so Alex emailed her asking if she'd like to get together with me. Alex sent this email on Monday. So Monday night - in walks Laura - and I knew it was her but I waited about 15 minutes before I said, "I know this is going to sound strange but are you on A Small World and do you know Alex in LA?"

Sure enough - it was her!!! I know it's...well...A Small World...but this really was random given that Kathryn has no connection to Alex whatsoever. Crazy.

The NYC guy will be here this weekend then he's headed back to get his things so he can move here. I'm trying too hard to find something cool for us to do so he'll think I'm cool and want to be my friend here. I need to chill...

The Perfect Job

I was looking online to see if there were any positions available to assist professional photographers on a part-time and/or weekend basis and I stumbled upon a job that I didn't even know existed. And it's perfect for me!!!

This particular position has already been filled but served as a reminder that my varied skill set and experience does actually add up to something.

The British Museum just hired someone to work in a sales capacity. She sells the space as a location for film/tv shoots, still photography shoots and radio program recordings. Once the shoot is booked she liaises with the production crew to ensure everything runs smoothly and sees the project through to the end.

I WANT THIS JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I would be perfect for it and it has everything I want. I'd get to meet all types of people. Work with tv/film/photography but it's a stable job. I wouldn't have to start as an assistant again with a new company - getting coffee and all that crap. I would have normal hours and I would probably get invited to whatever parties are involved after the project is completed. And how cool would it be to work for a major museum?

I didn't see a job like this currently available at the Met or MoMA in NYC but I'm curious if it exists. Do I know ANYONE who knows ANYONE who works for a major museum in NYC???

This would be my ticket back...

I just...

...drank two glasses of wine (enough to get the job done these days) and proceeded to watch the same 4 episodes of Sex & the City twice (the UK loves them some SATC)... apply for a photographer's assistant job (I currenly have a job and have no time for a 2nd one) then I emailed 3 men with whom I've had relations and know are currently single but unfortunately are located in Los Angeles, Toronto and Hanoi...then I proceeded to eat everything in my fridge besides the organic lightly salted butter (thank God).

I'm going to bed now.

Props

I saw "Rain Man" last night and I was pleasantly surprised. It was really good. And Josh Hartnett grew on me and looked REALLY hot. He was clean cut and not greasy like he usually is. And Adam Godley had the huge task of playing Dustin Hoffman's role and did a wonderful job.

It's so much fun to be back in a city where I can go to the theater and enjoy culture!!!

So sad about Paul Newman :( He was my #1 Hollywood actor crush.

My First West End Musical

My one friend in London (I'm confident there are more to come...I just haven't had time to put effort into finding them) invited me to see my first West End musical, "Flamenco, Flamen'ka". Now, I'm not a huge fan of musicals but the ticket was free and I'm not exactly in a position to turn down social invitations at the moment. (I actually hate most musicals except for "The Sound of Music" and "Grease". Characters breaking into song right before they kiss is such a tease).

So I thought, "Eh...why not?"

I'll tell you why not. It sucked. The flamenco dancing was good but after awhile they all reminded me of this little kid I used to babysit who would cross his arms and stomp his feet on the ground when I didn't pay enough attention to him because I was too engrossed in my 27th viewing of "Dirty Dancing".

Plus, there was no story, no characters, nothing to follow. Just a bunch of horny, slutty people kissin' all over each other (which is usually FINE with me but I didn't find any of them "fuckable" - to use a term from my Hollywood days). Then two guys would get angry because ...well, who knows... and would threaten to knife each other. But they never did because that would mean something actually would have happened and they'd have to start telling a story. Then they'd go back to dancing. Then they'd get horny and slutty again.

Oh, and then the "narrator" woman (who only spoke about 6 times the entire show) would throw the starving audience a bone and say, "The only thing you need to die...is to be aliiiiiiive."

....................okaaaaaaaaaay.

Then more dance/slut/knife stuff.

Oh, and there was a brother-in-law somewhere. I don't know which guy he was but I'm certain he wasn't faithful.

I felt bad because I couldn't help but whisper a smart-ass comment to my friend which launched us into a rock-you-to-the-core laughing fit. But there were kids behinds us who clapped everytime the dancers did so I hold onto hope that they were more annoying than we were.

I'm going to see "Rain Man" with Josh Hartnett this Friday night. I don't mean to be negative but I'm not expecting greatness at this show either. I mean...it's Josh Hartnett.

It's another free ticket though so I thought, "Eh...why not?

It's getting bad people...

My mom sent me an email which contained an image of a computer-generated, silouetted woman rotating on the heel of one of her feet. I was supposed to take note of which direction the woman rotated - clockwise or counter-clockwise. Depending on which way she turned it was then determined that I am a left- or right-brained thinker.

All I saw was that whatever horny computer guy created her made sure to include nipples on her boobs. I thought, "He must be hard up."

Then I thought, "If the first thing I notice on this woman is her nipples....."

I need to have sex. It's been since March. I'll have to vote Republican this November as I'll be a BORN-AGAIN! Okay, I'll be a Born Again VIRGIN and not a Born Again CHRISTIAN but I might become religious anyway so I can pray and sex will come to me. Is that how it works?

Eh...worth a shot.

Me: God?

God: Yoooo, Bunch! What up?

Me: Hey heyyyyyy. Not much, not much. Just chillin'. You know. [beat...] Hey, listen. I know it's been a loooooooooooooooooong time since I've called but...well...let's be honest...I'm an atheist. And the fact that you answered is seriously WIGGIN' me out right now but I'm not gonna go there because I have more pressing matters. I need a favor. Could you give me a break and send a strapping, well-endowed British rugby player with a lot of energy and time on his hands my way? The shit's dryin' up you see and I'm too busy to work out and make myself appealing to the opposite sex. Gotsta get this situuuuu down here taken care of STAT!

God: How's tonight at 10pm?

Me: Suh-WEET!!! You're an angel you know that? Thanks. I gotta go get ready but I swear to God next time we'll talk about you.

(P.S. I'm right-brained)

UPDATE

OMG - It's been forever since I've written in my blog. I'm sure I've lost everyone that was coming to it. Oh well. It'll just be my diary again.

I went through a period where I was tired of talking about myself so I couldn't bear to write about myself as well. Then I moved to London and have been crazy busy ever since.

So much has happened:

I got 2 weeks in NYC which included:
1) catching up with tons of friends
2) a flight to Buffalo for a 15 minute meeting then a 5-hour wait for my return flight the same day
3) watching my friend Adria perform in Union Square with her Capoeira group
4) having a romantic non-date with a guy friend of mine who I have a crush on
5) my mom visiting for 5 days (broadway show, dinners, walking, shopping)

So I walked and walked and walked in NYC for 2 weeks and did NOT want to leave. Never in my life did I think I would have a ho-hum attitude about going to London for the first time. But I really didn't want to go.

The plane ride was great though. Business class has totally private cubicles and seats that recline all the way horizontally. I decided to join the mile-high club (although it was just me so it probably doesn't count) as I had been in the same bed with my mom for a week! I know, I know...too much information but too bad. Get over it.

London has been a pain the ass experience up to this point and has included the following:

1) Having my wallet stolen the day before I signed a lease on a completely unfurnished apartment
2) Staying up until 4am with a fast-talkin’ Chinese chick at a Hong Kong bank desperately trying to cancel the last credit card but not understanding a word she was saying
3) Opening over 500 boxes of my cousin’s stuff and distributing it over the 6 floors in his house (steep stairs). Dust and pet dander attacking me from all directions. Contemplating what’s happened to my life as I fold his underwear.
4) Missing all of the Olympics because I didn’t have a television (I did get to see the opening ceremonies though)
5) Sitting with 2 Polish people for 4 ½ hours at their house while waiting for a 3rd Polish guy with a van who finally showed up after midnight. I rode with him for 30 minutes as he was helping me with a couch I bought from the 1st Polish person. Small talk was super fun. I found out later that the couch is broken.
6) Our company’s IT guy left London before any of us were set up. So we’re all in different stages of technical disarray
7) Tripping at least 3 times a day walking around town because they apparently haven’t heard of concrete sidewalks here. Big fans of broken up stone, the Brits are. When you’re feeling low it’s just the last thing you need. To trip. Am currently working on a strategy to make up for the cool points I’m losing with every stumble. Take DJ classes, perhaps?
8) Sitting in my apartment from 9am-6:30pm for a delivery that never came because they won't pay the 3GBP it costs to call my US mobile to tell me the're lost
9) Having to carry a big box of my cousin's stuff onto the Tube because the ATM machine was broken so I couldn't afford a taxi. The Chelsea Football Stadium had just unloaded thousands of footballers who were all trying to get on the train. The box became a celebrity. Drunk footballers were dying to know what was in the box and started shouting, "TWO POUNDS TO TOUCH THE BOX!" "FOUR POUNDS TO FIND OUT WHAT'S INSIDE THE BOX!" One guy at the end of the train yelled, "I THINK SHE'S WITH BIN LADEN!" I never told them what was inside the box (a cat litter box) as they'd be too disappointed. This was quite a funny experience.
10) Shopping at Whole Foods for my cousin's family's dinner only to have the paper bag break as I'm trying to cross Kensington High Street (VERY busy street). Cartons of brown rice and broccoli go flying in all directions. I hold my hand up to the cars staring at my ass as I try to gather up all the food.
11) Hanging out with Julian Lennon at a club.

And many more adventures.

BUT - I have a great apartment and I'm slooooowly but surely getting it set up and am really looking forward to the next couple weeks when my cousin is settled and I can really work on getting myself back into a routine. And getting a life.

Random

I'm in Buffalo, NY right now at an internet cafe. There were no appointments available until August in Manhattan for me to do my fingerprinting for my UK entry. So I flew to Buffalo to get fingerprinted. It took 15 minutes. Then I had 5 hours until my return flight.

It's really depressing here. At least everyone smiles on the street at you and the people generally seem like they're in a good mood. But WHY?

There's NOTHING going on here. I walked all over the downtown area and most of the shops were boarded up. There's a handful of sports bars, a few restaurants, one Starbucks and this nice little internet cafe I found called The Spot.

Other than that................

I'm glad I'm heading home soon. Well "home" to me right now means the Grand Hyatt Hotel in NYC. But at least my mom will be waiting for me so that makes it home.

Last Day in The Kong

Here I sit on my last day in Hong Kong. Typing on a computer at my fancy, caucasian-dominated gym as my home internet was turned off today.

I've had quite the love/hate relationship with Hong Kong. As many expats have in the past and will in the future.

I hate the humidity. I love the rainstorms.

I hate how meek the people are - show some balls! I love how polite they are no matter how frustrated I would get with them.

I hate all of the stairs. I love the escalator.

I hate that there's no culture here. I love meeting people from all over the world.

I hate that the Asian chicks steal all of the cute white boys. There's no upside to this one.

I hate how slow all of the people walk because they're so short. I love being taller than everyone.

I hate most Chinese food. I love how there are more restaurants per person in Hong Kong than anywhere else in the world.

I hate that it's such a transient city which makes it impossible to maintain any long-term relationships. I love that because it's a transient city it's so easy to meet people.

I hate that there are no good parks. I love the hiking trails, beaches and camp sites.

I hate the Type A, work hard/play hard lifestyle. I love the Type A, work hard/play hard lifestyle.

I hate that you can't find any clothes in a size 8 or larger. I love that I lost weight just so I could fit into the clothes.

I hate that there are no Target stores here. I love the old man at the top of Peel St. that's been selling and fixing umbrellas at his little stand for over 50 years.

I hate that I'm so far away from my family. I love that I'm so close to so many interesting travel destinations.

I hate that I'm leaving so soon. I love that I'm finally leaving.

Now...it's time to hit the elliptical.

Hilar

I just busted out laughing because I typed a blog post two minutes ago specifying that I want a job where I'm challenged and have to use my brain.

Then I realized I need to make a work call for my current job and a wave of disgust washed over me because I thought, "Uh...I'm going to have to THINK during this call. [SIGH]" And I immediately started thinking, "What else could I do to put off having to make this call?"

Then I busted out laughing at how pathetic and lazy I've become.

I need a real job. Fast.

Perfect job

I miss working in an office that's bustling with energy where I have co-worker friends and we talk and bitch and stuff. And there's like...a project or something...and everyone is brainstorming and working hard to try and make it better. And I'm an important part of that team and my co-workers will ask questions like, "Stacey, what do you think?" and "Stacey, do you want to go to that same sandwich place for lunch today or do you wanna try something new?"

When I had jobs like this in the past I would find reasons why I hated them and wished I had a job where I hardly had to work and could work from home in my pajamas. Which is what I have now.

Why do I always want what I don't have??? What's the perfect job? Someone please tell me and I'll tweak my resume so it seems like I'm qualified for it.

I need a job where I'm autonomous but have an office to go to. But I don't have to go to the office unless I want/need to. Except sometimes there should be meetings so I have a sense of purpose and can feel like I'm a responsible part of a team and shit. I have to work hard but I like what I'm doing for the most part so that's okay. I like to work hard as long as there's a sense of accomplishment.

I shouldn't have to answers phones. At all. I get to boss at least 3 people around and they do all the piddly stuff I don't want to do and they think I'm fabulous. I should only have to answer to 1 person and he is hot and thinks I'm fabulous and gives me raises every 6 months.

My co-workers will be mostly straight men who flirt with me but who also respect my work. They have lots of single male friends that they'd like to set me up with. There are hardly any women in the office so there's no catty bullshit I have to deal with. The women that do work there aren't as cute as me.

I should get paid every 2 weeks. Not the 15th and last day of the month but every 2 weeks so I get a couple months out of the year where it happens that I get 3 paychecks because of the way the dates work out.

I should be able to wear whatever I want when I do decide to grace the office with my presence but everyone I work with is pretty fashion conscience so it inspires me to dress nicely.

This job should be impressive or at least mildly interesting to most people when I tell them what I do for a living. It should pay me at least $75k per year.

And there should be a nap room at the office in case I need a little rest.

Any ideas?

Baby Fat vs. Body Fat

I was at the gym yesterday and this woman on the ellipti-girly machine next to me was the fuuuuuh-reakist worker-outer I've ever seen!

She was pumping her arms like crazy. I thought, "I bet she's picturing her cheating ex-husband is standing in front of her or something." She was grunting out loud too which is so annoying to me. I'm like...alriiiight, alriiiiight. We get it. You're working out. Now shut the fuck up and let me workout too - in peace.

The worst thing though was she had pulled her t-shirt up to her bra line. And the t-shirt was able to just sit up there because it was resting on her HUGE gut! And she wasn't pregnant!

It's become acceptable to have your belly hanging out if you happen to be pregnant and I agree that is okay because it's something to be proud of and happy about and it's a beautiful, miraculous event. Celebrate it! Show it off!

But BODY FAT?!?! Nonononononononono. NOBODY wants to see that! I was so bothered by this girl's pasty white gut bouncing up and down and aggressive elliptical style that I had to pick the machine farthest from her so I wouldn't have her in my peripheral vision and her grunting in my right ear. Then of course my DVD player didn't work so I had to get on the one right next to her. I listed to my DVD really loudly and stared straight ahead and it all worked out fine (pun intended).

Having fat and going to the gym to workout is great. Go for it. But I don't want to see it jiggling and sweating everywhere.

I must admit though it was a great motivator for me to work my ass off so I don't end up looking like her. Sorry. That was mean...but it what I was thinking.

Funny Dancer? FUNNY Dancer?!?!?!

Last night we took a friend of ours out to wish him well because he's moving to Singapore. He requested a "relaxing evening" so naturally we spent the night club hopping, destroying ourselves with alcohol then attempting to repair the 6 hours of damage by inhaling cheap chicken sandwiches before eventually crawling home.

It's all one guy's fault who bought us tequila and tabasco shots ("TT's" if you will). I must admit it was a genius move to have the tabasco sauce in the bottom of the glass. Replaced one stinging sensation with another.





















From that point forward the night went into overdrive. We found out today that we were "that group of people bouncing up and down" at this bar Tivo. I was in my dance zone and therefore oblivious to how obnoxious we must have been to everyone else. That's the beauty (and purpose) of guzzling so much alcohol I suppose. If I don't SEE the horrified looks on people's faces then they don't exist.

After Tivo we went to a dance club called Drop which is normally tough to get into but we had a chick with us who's a DJ so we were deemed worthy enough (just barely judging by the look on the reluctant doorgirl's face) and granted entrance.

Wanting to make the most of my temporary admittance into the cool people's party I whipped out some of my best dance moves and even created some new ones. Hour after hour I remained committed to finessing the Art of the Club Dance despite the fact that my stubborn 80-year old knees were putting up a fight the entire time. Once I get going NOTHING can stop my dancing! Not knee pain...not ripping a hole in my $400 dress...not a bouncer turning on the lights, grabbing my arm and saying, "Seriously sweetie...it's time to go." Nothing.

The reason I'm SO dedicated to my craft is that after a few drinks my ego convinces me that I am a So-You-Think-You-Can-Dance-worthy dancer. And I would never want to disappoint my fans so I make sure the show goes alllll night loooooong.

At 3pm today I was finally able to roll my poisoned body the 10 feet from my bed to my couch so I could begin piecing together the blur of events that was the night before. To begin my investigation I read an email from the DJ chick who was with us and she said,

"Stacey - you have the funniest dance moves. Good stuff!"

.....................WhatchootalkinboutWillis?

I'm not a FUNNY dancer!!! I'm a cooooooool dancer!!!

So today I was quickly fed a piece humble crumble pie as my hangover meal (it had a little too much cinnamon and reality but otherwise tasted good).

Well, WHATEVER type of dancer I am I think it's necessary for the soul to dance as much as possible in life. No matter what you look like. It makes you feel good! So get off the couch, play a song that inspires you and shake that ass!

I Showered with a Cockroach

Unfortunately, this blog post's title isn't a cute play on words.

I literally showered with a cockroach today.

Hong Kong's bug of choice is the VERY large cockroach. I've killed about 6 in the past 6 weeks in my apartment. It's so disgusting and it doesn't get any easier the more kills I rack up. And as soon as I feel safe again and think, "Huh. I haven't seen one in awhile. Maybe cockroach season is over?" another one shows up in the weirdest place scaring the shit out of me (my most favorite place was the tray in my washing machine where I pour my detergent).

I spray about 1/2 can of Raid on each one. Not unlike someone with a gun who freaks out and shoots someone 27 times even though 1 or 2 bullets would probably do the trick. I admit that screaming, "DIE YOU MOTHERFUCKERRRRRRRRRR!" is probably a bit dramatic (and not so fun for my old Chinese neighbors) but it's necessary. After he's wiggled his last wiggle I slowly work up the courage to transfer him to a trash can. This takes at least 10-15 minutes. I've determined that using a file folder to pick them up is best as it's thin enough to scoop him up and unlike a wad of papertowels there's absolutely no chance my fingers will have to feel his freshly dead carcass. Plus, that's more "green" of me anyway, right? Why waste 20 papertowels on one cockroach? I'm so dedicated.

The latest fucker to invade my space was in my bathroom sink the other night. I sprayed the Raid but he crawled into a crack in the sink somewhere and I couldn't get to him. Plus, the light bulbs are out in my bathroom so I couldn't see anything.

I hadn't seen him since but everytime I'd go in my bathroom I was watching... waiting...

Then today I go into the shower - which is about 5 feet long by 3 feet wide - and I did a cockroach check before I entered and didn't see him (remember it's dark in there right now).

Then about halfway through my exfoliation phase I looked in the back corner and saw a suspicious, black object! Fucker! He was dead so I guess I got enough Raid on him to cause a slow, agonizing death. Good.

I thought the sanitary thing to do is of course to stop my shower and get rid of him but I was running late for a dinner and since he was in the half of the shower that the water doesn't even reach and I never have to step into (it's a huge shower) I just left him there while I finished showering.

I know this is a totally disgusting story and I have no idea what it says about me that I share these tidbits of my life. But there it is...

I showered with a cockroach today.

P.S. Sorry for the photo but I feel it aids the story in fully illustrating my ordeal.

UPDATE: There was ANOTHER ONE in my shower this morning! And he was alive!!! I'm so over this shit! Get me out of here!

Scary Haha

This morning I rolled out of bed and went to the fridge. I grabbed my water bottle. Then I opened the cabinet and grabbed a cereal bowl. Next, I MEANT to grab my box of cereal and pour it into the bowl but instead...

I opened the bottle of water and filled the bowl with water. Filled the entire bowl before I realized that this wasn't something I was supposed to be doing. So, like a dog, I had a bowl of water and a bowl of food for breakfast this morning. I didn't go so far as to sip the water from my bowl with quick slurps of my tongue as I thought that might be taking it a bit far.

I definitely take after my dad. It's not scary-oh-my-god but more scary-haha to me.

Need more sleepy!

Doomed?

Instead of going to the gym this afternoon to work off the pizza and chocolate cake I ate for dinner last night I went to see the "Sex & The City" movie - again. To add a point or two back to my cool column I must add that the first time I saw it I missed the first 15-20 minutes so I felt the need to see the entire movie from start to finish. After watching every single episode at least 3 times I figured I owed the movie at least that consideration. And myself.

After it was finished... I couldn't help but wonder... Is it possible to write about sex and relationships without sounding like Carrie Bradshaw?

I believe it is! Everyone has their own voice after all and - like snowflakes - no two relationships are exactly alike. Let's just hope they don't all start out white, fluffy and beautiful and end up as black, filthy slush.

I believe I will find a Grand Love and this movie does nothing but support me in continuing that belief. But it's just a movie. I shouldn't take it too seriously, right? Meanwhile, back in non-movieland I have friends that are going through divorces, raising children on their own, calling their relationship status "It's complicated" on social networking sites even though they're married, lowering their standards one notch for each year they get older and still find themselves single, etc. And none of us can afford a closet full of Manolos.

But for some reason - despite all of the failed relationships out there (or attempts to find one) - I seem to think that it's not going to happen to me. I still believe that I'm going to find a great guy and we're going to spend our lives together. Is it my ego? A big fat case of denial? Have I seen too many rom-com movies?

I think the answer is two-fold:

(1) I'm a hopeless romantic. Actually, I'd like to think of is as hopeFULL romantic. And I believe good things come to good people. And good things come to those who wait. Basically, there are too many cliches about good things and good people to ignore them all.

(2) My parents. They're still together and very much in love. They've had some really tough times but they committed to each other and made it through. I can't ask for a better example to aspire to than that.

Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go walk around town in high-heeled shoes that I bought at Payless for $17.99. Did Carrie Bradshaw EVER get blisters?

2 weeks...

I have 2 weeks left until I leave HK. I'm in this familiar but frustrating place where I'm trying to pack in all the things I must do before I leave. Make sure to buy that thing that'll forever remind me of my time in Hong Kong. Need to go to that restaurant because I'm really going to miss the way they make my eggs. I try to have meaningful, fun times with my friends but I can't really be "present" because there are 1,000 things swirling around in my brain. Like, how I need to begin the agonizing process of going through all of my drawers wondering how I could've possibly accumulated so much shit in only 10 months time. And try not to break into a stress-induced tear fit when the littlest thing like talking to the Chinese lady at the cable company upsets me. Then...in the end...I don't do any of these things because I get sucked into an "Ugly Betty" marathon on TV (I totally want to work at a dysfunctional magazine now. And buy a bunch of shoes I can't afford).

-change of topic-

God, I need a date. The best sex I've had in the past 3 months when I was scratching the 13 mosquito bites on my legs OR it might have been when I finally sneezed after wheezing over and over for a solid minute. I just can't decide. I hope British men are cute.

-change of topic #2-

I watched "Reality Bites" and I miss the young, greasy, philosophically conflicted Ethan Hawke. Now all we have is this old, cleaner cut, morally deficient Ethan Hawke.

Getting older sucks.

Cheese

I've had cheese in one form or another as the main dish in the past 4 consecutive meals.