YES, that is right, I am going to be homeless. I know my readership was set on the fact that I was going to live with the lesbian, but God Damn it, it is not going to work. This has all come to a head in the past twenty four hours. Aside from the fact that I truly want to kill myself and almost projected myself out of the sixteenth floor of my office after deciding that my law firm has no business being in the neighborhood it is situated, I spent the entire afternoon looking at studios with M.
M tried to put me in a studio next to a convent and a police station presuming I would be very protected in such a location. When I refused because a) I do not want my drug addict friends not to come over because they are afraid they will be arrested and b)because, hello, are you near here? I can not live next to a convent. That being said, M was dissuaded the moment we walked in because the previous tenant was clearly a Muslim (there was Muslim peraphanelia surrounding the apartment). M asked the broker if they allowed Jews to move into the building. When I explained to M that the previous tenant has no say on who or what lives in the building, she quickly told me that this was not acceptable living conditions as it was bad karma for a Jew to live in an apartment that was previously habitated by a Muslim. As everyone knows ALL Muslims hate Jews.
Regardless, I was not set on the apartment either. However, I could tell M was preoccupied and not giving me the full scrutiny usually afforded to me when we interact alone. When I asked M what the problem was, she explained to me that she has to put Eve down (our parapalegic cat). Okay, this is the ninth time in the five years since Eve being hit by a car by M squared that M has threatened that she has to put Eve down. However, I think this time it might be for real. As apparently Eve no longer has the power to urinate. Poor thing, she probably has wanted to die for years, but M has kept her alive by way of multiple cathaters and orafaces being created for her to use to excavate her bladder. When I asked M what would make her feel better, she replied by putting me down instead.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
I KNOW
My apologies, my readership, but I am back. Better late than never. Truth be told, I was a bit hesitant blogging about my unsuccess when I am supposed to not consider making less money than I did as a temp success. Regardless, here. I. am.
Let me preface this by saying that this is by and large the best legal experience I have ever had. We all know this does not say much, for if someone were to put me at the closest one train stop and my job was to ensure that no one shared their metro card with someone else, as yes it is illegal, this would exceed all legal jobs I have ever had. In fact, I might not even have reason to blog.
That being said, this job is surely a winner. Garbage cans, I surely have discovered a hidden gem. It only took me a week and a half to adjust to this supermarket wherein there is no direct deposit set up because it is just that ghetto and they forget to pay you on some occasions. Why, just last Friday, I went to ask our "office manager" where my pay check was (we retrieve it from her desk every Friday after handing in our billing) and she apologized to me, or Christine, as that is what she calls me (not my name), but the head partner had forgotten to pay me. All was resolved within four hours, but she told me that next time I should remind him that I work here. This event proceeded the hour when us garbage cans (yes very eco friendly this place) were stuck outside near the freight elevator which is adjacent to two dumpsters. The reason for this bind was there is only one working elevator in the building and it was out of service. The freight elevator does in fact work at all times, but will not necessarily open to the floor where I am so comfortably litigating.
This is all very lovely, but here is a major gripe. When I first interviewed at the firm, one of the head partners told me there is something in the water (which I suspected was a toxin related to a pipe explosion), that makes all of the women in the firm get pregnant in or around the same time. This did not bother me in the slightest as, well, I figure if I am not pregnant by now, I must be infertile. When I told M&M this, they told me I surely should not worry because no one is taking to me bed as I am a spinster. Little do they know that this past month has been filled with slutatious behavior in celebration of employment, but fine. Because according to M&M I never will have the opportunity to be pregnant I took it upon myself to have a thorough discussion today in the bathroom stalls with one of the baby's mamas ("support staff") regarding their experience. She explained to me that "the problem with this f*ckin kid is it's sittin' on my bladda making me have to piss all da' time which is why you see me in here so often." I said that did not sound so bad and decided I want one.
Let me preface this by saying that this is by and large the best legal experience I have ever had. We all know this does not say much, for if someone were to put me at the closest one train stop and my job was to ensure that no one shared their metro card with someone else, as yes it is illegal, this would exceed all legal jobs I have ever had. In fact, I might not even have reason to blog.
That being said, this job is surely a winner. Garbage cans, I surely have discovered a hidden gem. It only took me a week and a half to adjust to this supermarket wherein there is no direct deposit set up because it is just that ghetto and they forget to pay you on some occasions. Why, just last Friday, I went to ask our "office manager" where my pay check was (we retrieve it from her desk every Friday after handing in our billing) and she apologized to me, or Christine, as that is what she calls me (not my name), but the head partner had forgotten to pay me. All was resolved within four hours, but she told me that next time I should remind him that I work here. This event proceeded the hour when us garbage cans (yes very eco friendly this place) were stuck outside near the freight elevator which is adjacent to two dumpsters. The reason for this bind was there is only one working elevator in the building and it was out of service. The freight elevator does in fact work at all times, but will not necessarily open to the floor where I am so comfortably litigating.
This is all very lovely, but here is a major gripe. When I first interviewed at the firm, one of the head partners told me there is something in the water (which I suspected was a toxin related to a pipe explosion), that makes all of the women in the firm get pregnant in or around the same time. This did not bother me in the slightest as, well, I figure if I am not pregnant by now, I must be infertile. When I told M&M this, they told me I surely should not worry because no one is taking to me bed as I am a spinster. Little do they know that this past month has been filled with slutatious behavior in celebration of employment, but fine. Because according to M&M I never will have the opportunity to be pregnant I took it upon myself to have a thorough discussion today in the bathroom stalls with one of the baby's mamas ("support staff") regarding their experience. She explained to me that "the problem with this f*ckin kid is it's sittin' on my bladda making me have to piss all da' time which is why you see me in here so often." I said that did not sound so bad and decided I want one.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Father's Day Brunch
Nothing like Father's Day brunch with M&M to remind Atticus Finch, my sister-in-law, my spouse roommate and me how lucky we are to have them as parents and in-laws. Atticus Finch chose a local little cafe to have brunch at in M squared' honor. After the initial discussion regarding menu options, M announced that she would not be eating but would just order a coffee. This did not shock any of the respective parties. For, as far as all of us can remember, M has never consumed a meal, at least in public. Atticus Finch wanted to order a sandwich with tomato on it, but M informed Atticus Finch and the rest of the table that he simply can not as yesterday a tomato caused M squared to suffer from diarrhea. There, there M squared, I am glad you could rise to the occasion for your family.
Regardless, the major discussion is not so much what happened over the course of brunch, but what proceeded it in the newly weds apartment. (For the record, if my future roommates ever reads my blog, I just wanted to let you know, D, that you should not take this at all personally. M&M have nothing, really, against homosexuals. However, you might not know this much if you overheard this discussion.) I explained to M&M that one of my future flat mates,D, who I think is just delightful, is a lesbian. This does not bother me in the slightest. In fact, I celebrate it and wish I was one. When D dropped the L bomb on me, I was quick to respond with a "good for you" and reinforce this with "one more year single in this city and I will also be a homosexual." When I explained to M&M how adorable D is and that she is very bright; graduate from Carnegie Melon and computer engineer, M&M were quick to tell me that all female computer engineers are lesbians and went to Carnegie Melon. Why? Because mainly all computer lesbian engineers like Pennsylvania. This is actually very ironic. Let me explain. You see, after my freshman year when I had failed to meet a husband at age nineteen, M&M practically forced me to go to Carnegie Melon where I had been accepted as a transfer student (As in M&M filled out a transfer application and sent it to this institution). Of course, I did not allow them to proceed with this arrangement, but it had little to do with lesbians. It actually had more to do with the fact that I was happy to not be married at age nineteen. In retrospect it is a good thing that I did not go because not only would I end up single, I would end up a lesbian computer engineer.
What never ceases to amaze me however is that M&M, despite all evidence to the contrary, obviously, think of me as being exceptionally vulnerable. It is true that I have a few mishaps in my life that generally do not happen to the lucky; i.e. I broke my jaw my sophomore year in college after a serious bout of tonsillitis, I was hit by a drunk driver my third year in law school. This all might be true, but it is not like every moment I walk outside the apartment I have been raped and or in near danger of being raped. Let me clarify this for you M&M, no one is raping me. Quite to the contrary, no one has sex with me, and vise versa, unless both parties are quite inebriated. In a sense, this is not voluntary, but it is consensual. Therefore, you need not worry that D, my one hundred pound roommate, is going to come into my room with a strap on and rape me. In fact, I am not entirely sure I am her type and she is in a relationship. This is similar to your line of thinking that I have had a hundred marriage proposals and have rejected them all. NO! NO! NO!
Regardless, an hour was devoted to how I am not going to escape the various sexual threats I am going to have to deal with on a daily basis. While M squared did not really think that there was a serious problem, M thought that perhaps I might be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As in, oh I just might happen to be in D's room while she is having sex with her girlfriend and oh, they ask me to join. YES, very likely possiblity. However, do not worry everyone. M has come up with a solution: The moment I enter the apartment I must falsely announce to everyone that I have AIDS. Then, no one will touch me.
Regardless, the major discussion is not so much what happened over the course of brunch, but what proceeded it in the newly weds apartment. (For the record, if my future roommates ever reads my blog, I just wanted to let you know, D, that you should not take this at all personally. M&M have nothing, really, against homosexuals. However, you might not know this much if you overheard this discussion.) I explained to M&M that one of my future flat mates,D, who I think is just delightful, is a lesbian. This does not bother me in the slightest. In fact, I celebrate it and wish I was one. When D dropped the L bomb on me, I was quick to respond with a "good for you" and reinforce this with "one more year single in this city and I will also be a homosexual." When I explained to M&M how adorable D is and that she is very bright; graduate from Carnegie Melon and computer engineer, M&M were quick to tell me that all female computer engineers are lesbians and went to Carnegie Melon. Why? Because mainly all computer lesbian engineers like Pennsylvania. This is actually very ironic. Let me explain. You see, after my freshman year when I had failed to meet a husband at age nineteen, M&M practically forced me to go to Carnegie Melon where I had been accepted as a transfer student (As in M&M filled out a transfer application and sent it to this institution). Of course, I did not allow them to proceed with this arrangement, but it had little to do with lesbians. It actually had more to do with the fact that I was happy to not be married at age nineteen. In retrospect it is a good thing that I did not go because not only would I end up single, I would end up a lesbian computer engineer.
What never ceases to amaze me however is that M&M, despite all evidence to the contrary, obviously, think of me as being exceptionally vulnerable. It is true that I have a few mishaps in my life that generally do not happen to the lucky; i.e. I broke my jaw my sophomore year in college after a serious bout of tonsillitis, I was hit by a drunk driver my third year in law school. This all might be true, but it is not like every moment I walk outside the apartment I have been raped and or in near danger of being raped. Let me clarify this for you M&M, no one is raping me. Quite to the contrary, no one has sex with me, and vise versa, unless both parties are quite inebriated. In a sense, this is not voluntary, but it is consensual. Therefore, you need not worry that D, my one hundred pound roommate, is going to come into my room with a strap on and rape me. In fact, I am not entirely sure I am her type and she is in a relationship. This is similar to your line of thinking that I have had a hundred marriage proposals and have rejected them all. NO! NO! NO!
Regardless, an hour was devoted to how I am not going to escape the various sexual threats I am going to have to deal with on a daily basis. While M squared did not really think that there was a serious problem, M thought that perhaps I might be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As in, oh I just might happen to be in D's room while she is having sex with her girlfriend and oh, they ask me to join. YES, very likely possiblity. However, do not worry everyone. M has come up with a solution: The moment I enter the apartment I must falsely announce to everyone that I have AIDS. Then, no one will touch me.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Rude Awakening
Well, well, well after four days of searching for an apt/roomie and finally stumbling upon success with two ladies in or around my current address, it has come to my attention that there are just not that many mes out there. The first group of ladies did not hide their disgust with me the slightest when I told them that I would not be having my non existent boyfriend stay on their couch because he does not exist. When they asked me how long it is since I have been in a relationship and I said twenty seven years because while I was in my mother's womb I felt very connected to M they were not remotely amused. Well, quite frankly, neither was I. I was not remotely amused when multiple mates had warned me that they never came home later than one AM or brought home visitors or walked around naked. I was also not remotely amused to be walking around in the schorching heat and climbing several walk ups only to find that some weird earthy types had no air conditioning.
Regardless, next time I post an ad on craig's I have decided that this is the way the I am going to post:
Slightly slutty female looking to bond with other twenty somethings over wine, sex or cigarettes. Does not plan on cleaning, not even an iota, will never use the kitchen and only sometimes shower. Will try not to smoke in the apartment or your bedroom, but cant make any promises. Also, most likely will invest in a puppy, kitten and/or midget.
Regardless, next time I post an ad on craig's I have decided that this is the way the I am going to post:
Slightly slutty female looking to bond with other twenty somethings over wine, sex or cigarettes. Does not plan on cleaning, not even an iota, will never use the kitchen and only sometimes shower. Will try not to smoke in the apartment or your bedroom, but cant make any promises. Also, most likely will invest in a puppy, kitten and/or midget.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Your Atmosphere is Contagious
Regular STD & HIV testing is an unwelcomed, but necessary part of being a sexually active 20 something in Manhattan. I understand the 'sexually active' part of this statement may not be entirely true, seeing as though the 'active-ness' takes quite frequent and long breaks.
In any case, after a rare form trip to LA over a month ago, it was only appropriate to follow up with the standard sex check up. Having quit my job & living under new disciplined conditions of spending, I decided to get my check up at the Chelsea Free Health Clinic. For those of you who have not been there (which is 98% of our readership), it is the condemned looking building that was renamed after the health commissioner found it infested with rats (source: google). Another sure fire way to recognize the building is by it's many lawn decorations, otherwise known as homeless people.
While most of Chelsea & Midtown Manhattan is littered with homeless people and/or people that resemble homeless people, the Chelsea Health Clinic in fact fills its front lawn with an overwhelming amount of real homeless people. While Im all up for the decision to not work, I will say being the minority in a park full of people really makes me think twice about being unemployed. Yes, I currently live in an apartment & have a room to call my own, but am I steps away from reverting to living on the Chelsea Free Health Clinic steps? And moreover, if I don't have an STD or HIV as I approach the building, is it possible to contract one as I step over a homeless man, or brush up against a drunk homeless man, or open the door after a homeless man?
- this could be one seriously effective abstinence campaign.
In any case, after a rare form trip to LA over a month ago, it was only appropriate to follow up with the standard sex check up. Having quit my job & living under new disciplined conditions of spending, I decided to get my check up at the Chelsea Free Health Clinic. For those of you who have not been there (which is 98% of our readership), it is the condemned looking building that was renamed after the health commissioner found it infested with rats (source: google). Another sure fire way to recognize the building is by it's many lawn decorations, otherwise known as homeless people.
While most of Chelsea & Midtown Manhattan is littered with homeless people and/or people that resemble homeless people, the Chelsea Health Clinic in fact fills its front lawn with an overwhelming amount of real homeless people. While Im all up for the decision to not work, I will say being the minority in a park full of people really makes me think twice about being unemployed. Yes, I currently live in an apartment & have a room to call my own, but am I steps away from reverting to living on the Chelsea Free Health Clinic steps? And moreover, if I don't have an STD or HIV as I approach the building, is it possible to contract one as I step over a homeless man, or brush up against a drunk homeless man, or open the door after a homeless man?
- this could be one seriously effective abstinence campaign.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Gee, I wonder Why We Are All Bloody Single?
Since I have not been searching for a job, I have been searching for a roommate. Some of you might know this, but my roommate of five years, E, has finally decided to get herself a studio. Well good for bloody her, I certainly am not. For, undeniably I need a roommate to babysit me. It was just this past weekend at my college reunion that I left my credit card at the bookstore because E was not there to remind me to ask for it back. Quite frankly, I am used to being "broken up with" by not really significant others. Why it was just three days before E announced her planned departure someone told me that having sex is a very friendly thing to do and does not see any reason why I would think otherwise. With respect to E, however, I have done nothing wrong. I did not put out too early, I did not ask to sleep with one of her friends and or have a threesome, I did not even get really drunk and by accident grab her crotch. Ultimately, I have been good to E and while I do profess my love for her an unusual amount of times per day, it is just because I have really strong feelings for her.
Well fine. This quest is by and large been a lot better than searching for a job. For the most part, every time I see a 20 something yr old looking for a roommate I get excited that this will lead to in the case of a female, a drinking buddy, or in the case of a male, a "cuddle" buddy and drinking buddy after a long day at the office. This has been all going fine and dandy until I came across this ad:
_____________________________________________________________________________________
free room for a beautiful brainy submissive (SoHo)
Pay no rent in return for taking care of a wide range of responsibilities around the house. ideally im seeking a student of artist with a decent amount of flex time. serious inquiries only and you must send a pic and details about yourself in the first email or no reply.
Attraction and chemistry between us is essential.
Very handsome SWM here. You must be 18 to 30 with a sharp mind, organized, stylish, obedient.
You will be living in a fabulous neighborhood, nice apartment and be granted plenty of freedom to carry on your normal life as long as you attend well to your duties.
(P.S. See the ad at http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/roo/702263994.html to get a view of the rather suggestive of picture on the bottom)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
It is true, that if I was a bit more confident, I would probably respond to this ad. I mean quite frankly this would solve a lot of my problems. While I would still have the ability to be single, I would probably no longer have random trysts and I might very well just become a full time literary agent if I do not have to worry about living expenses. That being said, if said handsome man is posting a craig's list ad to find a f*ck buddy in the city of Manhattan where there are more desperate 20 something year old women than there are Starbucks, the question becomes who is the man behind this ad and can I do the same thing?
So, I too am going to post an ad that reads like this:
"Very funny slender pale red head looking for a boyfriend/husband/f*ck buddy to share one bedroom. Male must be at least 6'1 and make more money than God. Has to at least feign that it matters whether or I live or die and be open to the possibility of getting a puppy. Must tolerate drinking, smoking and anything else I chose to consume in the apartment. Sometimes has to go with me to events where it is not okay to be single."
Well fine. This quest is by and large been a lot better than searching for a job. For the most part, every time I see a 20 something yr old looking for a roommate I get excited that this will lead to in the case of a female, a drinking buddy, or in the case of a male, a "cuddle" buddy and drinking buddy after a long day at the office. This has been all going fine and dandy until I came across this ad:
_____________________________________________________________________________________
free room for a beautiful brainy submissive (SoHo)
Pay no rent in return for taking care of a wide range of responsibilities around the house. ideally im seeking a student of artist with a decent amount of flex time. serious inquiries only and you must send a pic and details about yourself in the first email or no reply.
Attraction and chemistry between us is essential.
Very handsome SWM here. You must be 18 to 30 with a sharp mind, organized, stylish, obedient.
You will be living in a fabulous neighborhood, nice apartment and be granted plenty of freedom to carry on your normal life as long as you attend well to your duties.
(P.S. See the ad at http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/roo/702263994.html to get a view of the rather suggestive of picture on the bottom)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
It is true, that if I was a bit more confident, I would probably respond to this ad. I mean quite frankly this would solve a lot of my problems. While I would still have the ability to be single, I would probably no longer have random trysts and I might very well just become a full time literary agent if I do not have to worry about living expenses. That being said, if said handsome man is posting a craig's list ad to find a f*ck buddy in the city of Manhattan where there are more desperate 20 something year old women than there are Starbucks, the question becomes who is the man behind this ad and can I do the same thing?
So, I too am going to post an ad that reads like this:
"Very funny slender pale red head looking for a boyfriend/husband/f*ck buddy to share one bedroom. Male must be at least 6'1 and make more money than God. Has to at least feign that it matters whether or I live or die and be open to the possibility of getting a puppy. Must tolerate drinking, smoking and anything else I chose to consume in the apartment. Sometimes has to go with me to events where it is not okay to be single."
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