I just wrote this line into an email:

I never took an unpaid internship except for once at a recording studio and that’s just because it was full of boys and semi-celebrities recording music.

I had to stop and read it a few times before continuing on. I was shocked at how naturally it came out since most of the time I forget that I even worked there, much less pondered the reasons I was there at all.

But seriously, if you’re not being paid, shouldn’t you be compensated in some other way? All I did was sit at the front desk and occasionally answer the phone, so it’s not like I was learning invaluable skills that would make me a much wiser and competent human being. Unless, of course, we are talking about refining my flirting skills. And in that field, my friend, I was a born natural.

Forget Godiva truffles, THIS is what I want for my birthday.  I’m glad to see the vibrator community is keeping up with us she-geeks.

Can be purchased here.

Blogged with Flock

Tags: vibrator, babeland, ipod

Valentine’s Day. Such a weird holiday. It’s packed with history, yet the focus is aimed directly at the commercial aspect of Godiva truffles and Hallmark cards. Hmmmm, sounds a bit like Christmas. And the 4th of July. And Halloween. Of course, remove Godiva truffles and replace with gingerbread houses, hot dogs, and mini candy bars where needed. It’s definitely not a new observation, but it seems like any significant holiday has become a way for for companies to make money, money, money!

However, Valentine’s Day is always a little different for me because it happens to be the day that I was born. This has made my life interesting in several ways. The first being that people always remember my birthday which, naturally, makes me feel special. This, in turn, has made me into a freak that makes a huge deal out of everyone’s birthday. I mean, you were BORN on that day. You did the UNTHINKABLE. YOU CAME OUT OF A VAGINA FOR CHRIST SAKE!!! Here, have a Nobel prize. You deserve it.

Second, when I’m a single white female, which is more often than not, my other single friends, and even some that are not so single, are always more than happy to forget celebrating the Hallmark holiday and celebrate my birthday instead (which I consider to be a more important holiday anyway). This makes me appreciate the holiday even more because I’ve always got love on February 14th whether or not I’m getting laid.

Also, when I am not so single, the significant other has no choice but to make a big deal of both because I’m still a girl and I still want Godiva assorted dark chocolate truffles (hint hint) and to go sit in a nice restaurant in a pretty dress and feel fancy. Yes, it’s convenient that there is only one dinner out necessary, but referring back to my statement above, it still makes me feel special.

But yesterday after seeing the 16th consecutive commercial of a young hot couple making out after he gave her some awful heart necklace from Kay Jewelers, I started to get a little down because I don’t, in fact, have a boy to celebrate with this year. And then I understood why some of my friends would rather gouge their eyes out with a fork than acknowledge Valentine’s Day. And it made me wish that we could venture back to the day when “boys sliced a goat’s hide into strips, dipped them in the sacrificial blood and took to the streets, gently slapping both women and fields of crops with the goathide strips. [And the women,] far from being fearful, welcomed being touched with the hides because it was believed the strips would make them more fertile in the coming year.”

Alas, this morning I woke up and it was my birthday. And when that happens once a year, it doesn’t really matter what else is going on around you because, even if it’s only in your own mind, it’s still your day.

Blogged with Flock

Tags: valentine’sday, holidays, birthdays, Godiva, chocolate

My dear friend, Katy, got engaged on Christmas.  She is the first of my friends to do this.  I’m sure there will be a few more following her footsteps in the next couple of years, but it’s interesting for several reasons - of which I’m not going to list - that she is the first.

However, the fact that she is planning on doing this as opposed to this is a good indication of where I’m coming from.

Thanks to BreakUpEmail.com you no longer have to put any real thought into the breakup conversation.  It’s as simple as checking the appropriate boxes and an email is generated and ready to be delivered.  There are even clever sign off lines such as “I hope maggots devour your testicles” and “I won’t miss your ugly face” to really go out with a bang.  So head on over, end things in the most painless way possible (for you anyway), and enjoy your new singleness.

…is what I am currently reading. Over the weekend my cousin and I were talking about being single (as we both currently are), boys (naturally), and this book (witty essays by a Sex and the City writer). I would read aloud an excerpt and we would talk about it, laugh, draw a conclusion, and read the author’s solution.

An excerpt of note dealing with juggling a few guys at once: “Use nicknames for easy reference. If you’re having trouble keeping your love life straight, imagine how your friends feel.”

What amazes me is that my friends have been doing this for a long time now because, well, it IS hard to keep other people’s love lives straight. I’ve found the easiest to remember are those referenced by a country, personality trait, or person of fame. My favorite nicknames to date include: Jesus, Columbia, Princess, Diva, Israel, and Matt 1 (of 2 or 3, I can never remember). And, yes, these were all references to men.

Lesson of the day? Boys, we will pick you apart and pare you down better than the best of apple corers. Beware.

*Update* I forgot Tinkerbell. That is by far the best nickname. (Thanks for reminding me, Sarah.)

I cannot wait for the movie version to come out. It’s been far too long since the series ended and I have watched my DVD’s (yes, of course I have the entire collection) to the point of exhaustion. Some of them don’t even play anymore. But it’s interesting that even still there is always an episode that I can watch and say “YES, you understand me!”

The girls are completely whacked out for the most part (seriously, most of their problems I’d hope you’d be able to solve by the time you graduate high school), but it’s so easy to relate to them that it’s easy to forgive and enjoy their craziness. You’ll find me at the theater, Snickers Popables in hand, the day it opens.

…if you’ve got a good narrative. The story of life.

Revenge is sweet. But don’t come crying to me when karma comes around and punches you in the face.