1 - Who was the big shot leaving the The Palace Hotel this morning? I was told to cross the street by some really hot guy in a suit. There were machine guns (and believe it or not, since 9/11 this was the very first time I saw the machine guns - or at least that's what I think they were. Could they have been Uzi's, I don't know, but they were huge - forgive me for not being on top of my gun knowledge - I'm from NYC, but not THAT tough!) Tons of cop cars and black shiny cars hanging out. A bike messenger tried to peddle up the street and a real mean-looking woman jumped out of a truck yelling "BACK UP BACK UP". This was so worth almost being late to work for. But before I knew it, it was all over - the car doors closing and the drama driving away.
2 - Ok, stalker ex-boyfriend, you really need to go away now. I know I'm great, but I didn't think I was this unforgettable - we've been broken up for 10 years - I'm not quite sure what is going on in your life that you are holding me on this pedestal but you REALLY need to move on with your life. I don't really know how else to tell you that I don't want to be with you that you have me resorting to lies (which is what I should have just done in the first place but I thought you maybe, just maybe that you matured a little over these 10 years and could just accept what was cordial catch-up conversation - how wrong I was!!!) but if I receive any more messages like this - I promise I will change my number (and please don't make me change my number, it's such a pain in the ass):
Last night's text message from what appears to be stalker's mom but it was probably stalker himself (mind you, I had no idea who the hell could be sending this and what the HELL it was about - stalker had not contacted me in about a month after I yelled at him, so I thought I was in the clear and thought this might have been my friends fucking around with me):
==============================================================
"if this is _________(me) please call me he gave me this phone and said mom I think _______(me) hates me but I want to marry her and have babies. _________(me) he really needs you please call me".
==============================================================
Today's text message from stalker himself responding to my response of "HUH?....Who is this?":
==============================================================
"_________(me) it's ________(stalker) i am just calling because I almost died on my job yesterday and when I was bleeding all I thought about was you. I won't bother you no more. I'm sorry"
==============================================================
Oh God, what do you say to that and to someone you never want to hear from again - you just can't ignore the fact that someone almost died (supposedly!!! - don't know how much truth there is to that story - it could have been a paper cut since he IS on the dramatic side when he makes his stalker calls me to - but if for some reason he did almost arrive at death's door - I sincerely apologize for sounding so mean - I don't wish anyone any harm and I hope he recovers completely), but you don't want to keep opening the door to stalkerish behavior or else when does it ever end?
My response: "i hope you are ok but I am with someone and in love with him". I certainly do not want to talk to him on the phone and I don't have the energy to write him a book via text messaging...what else do I fucking say? He claims, once again, that he is never going to bother me, he wishes me the best, blah blah (I've heard that before). I soooooooo don't want to change my number but I have to set a limit and stick with my promise to myself that if I get one more message, missed call - anything - that's it, I will be making the call to Verizon and I'm sending his ass the bill for a phone number change (if they're still charging for that).
3 - My mailroom guys have this new procedure where they're making us sign for our group's overnight packages. I wouldn't mind so much but I hate those little screens with the next-to-nothing pencil they make you sign with. The signature is so bad it looks like a toddler holding a pen with Mommy guiding me along. The device is not very wide or long, there's no where to rest your wrist. It's just not something I look forward to and every time they come around with it I think to myself "Fuck, here we go again, I hate this stupid thing". (Sorry, my life is pretty good so this could be my biggest complaint in life at the moment).
4 - Sorry to the guy that I pretended to reach for the "door open" button in the elevator. I was just too far away and I really wasn't in the mood for company. I squeaked out "sorry" but I'm sure that you saw it was a weak attempt on my part. If you were cuter I would have dove to the buttons. Next time maybe.
5 - Stalker guy bye bye - it was so worth the $15 bucks that Verizon wireless charges to change the number. For some reason I thought it would be about $35 since I remember from years ago that regular Verizon landline service charged about that much - which is one of the many reasons why I left that monopoly and have gone with the much more reasonable and fairly decent Cable phone service...I can deal with a few staticy and dropped calls for $30 bucks a month and who actually uses their landline anymore anyway?
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
A New Day...A New Bra...A New Woman
I've been blessed and cursed with big boobs since I was 16 years old. I don't know how these things appeared, but all I know is I went away for the summer as I always did to my aunt's house - not flat as a board, I had something going on there, but I came home and wham, I was a C cup. I was teased and admired. I had the unfortunate yelling nickname of "tits" by the boys I hung out with and "slut" by the girls - not necessarily girls I knew, just anyone who felt like throwing this name out for no apparent reason.
It took me a very long time to appreciate this commodity that mostly every woman wants. Women pay big bucks for what tends to run in my family. We come in different shapes and sizes and the mama's are now still big but they kinda flattened out, but I guess that's what happens when you are approaching retirement.
I've had a love-hate relationship with the girls for many years. I was embarrassed to go out with cleavage showing on most nights but would never cover them up - there weren't any sexy shirts that I could get away with without these things popping out. I was so one of those girls that wanted to wear what I wanted without all the negative remarks from men. I totally wanted them to overlook what was so clearly in their faces - fat chance in that ever happening.
When I turned 30 this wave of confidence took over. No longer the 16 year old C cup which I considered monsters at the time, I was now a woman with a much more mature bosom but no longer cared what anyone thought - in fact, I was proud to be at an older age with such perky things for their size. I do my best to tone them down at work (one thing I noticed about work...the more educated someone is the flatter their chest is...why is this? You never see well-endowed corporate executives - is it a pre-requisite to get a breast reduction or to use some pill to supress the growth? - I never understood this)....but when I go out it's whatever works. Not to say that I dress trashy, I don't - I'm not one of those hip-hugging wearing chicks who wear the backless shirts (are those still in?)...I would consider my style of dress casual-conservative with hints of sexiness. These babies stick out no matter what - so I have finally embraced them - they're mine and they ain't going anywhere...so I might as well let them shine!!
With that said, I got some new bras today. I had been in a bra slump - wearing some worn stretched out ones that were comfortable but things were getting so bad that I had to turn to the sexy push-up bras which are responsible for spillage. Spillage is good if you're wearing a low-cut top but not to the office in a button-down or any smooth-surfaced blouse. Spillage is sloppy looking. The sexy bras are also tight (better for support in any bra), so I was getting terrible imprints in my skin - not attractive.
I finally got fed up and went to JC Penny today for some sensible bras - these are the bras for every day use - they're not very sexy, but the selection has improved big-time over the years (big boobs and sexy bras were never found in the same sentence and as a young girl this bothered the hell out of me. I wrote Victoria's Secret a 2 page business case on why I should design bras for them saying how it was so unfair that all the bras were for girls who COULD wear push-ups and still have room to spare. Bra design might actually be my calling because it's something that still gets my blood boiling to this day - especially when I see women everywhere wearing ill-fitted bras but mostly when I run into my own problems (very selfish - I want what I want and I always think what I want is the better choice - something I need to get over generally speaking but not when it comes to my bras!!)
My new bras are great. I'm not sure if guys get the same feeling if buying boxer briefs as a woman feels when she puts on a new bra with awesome support - but it's just one of those things that can't be fully expressed in words...there are hand gestures, eye rolls and sighs that go hand in hand with the instant happiness of getting an appropriate fitting bra. It is truly like a weight's been lifted (pun intended), it makes you goofy and I can't stop cupping them and shaking them around, I want to keep admiring my new friends (the bras) - I might even name them all - they deserve all the praise I care to give them. I normally despise Mondays but I am anxious to get to bed to wake up at 5am JUST to put this thing back on (ok we all know that's a huge lie but it sounded good).
I might still write to the companies and offer some constructive criticism - like gel straps (saw this on some other bras which weren't worth buying because they offered no support) or reinforced sides - which I refer to as mini bras of armor (regular bras of armor are the long-down-to-the-waist strapless bras that us big-busted women have to wear if we want to wear a spaghetti strapped dress. The bra has boning in it and is not soft to the touch if you slow dance with a guy - it's armor, no other way to describe it). A lot of the VS push up bras have hardened sides which is good to narrow the boobs out or else they can go east/west the more the bra stretches out - we get enough of this trying to sleep on our backs....we certainly don't need this standing up. If I could get a bra designer to incorporate these two features into my latest buys, I think I would be able to die a happy woman. Until then, I'm going to enjoy what I have here and be thankful I'm lifted again.
I feel like a kid on Christmas morning - I'm never taking this thing off!
**Update**
Still loving the new bras, but I do have a complaint. No nipple control. One minute one is saying hello, the next the other is (which leads me to question, why aren't they both at full staff together?? Should I see a doctor about this?). But my coworkers must be loving me - lol.
It took me a very long time to appreciate this commodity that mostly every woman wants. Women pay big bucks for what tends to run in my family. We come in different shapes and sizes and the mama's are now still big but they kinda flattened out, but I guess that's what happens when you are approaching retirement.
I've had a love-hate relationship with the girls for many years. I was embarrassed to go out with cleavage showing on most nights but would never cover them up - there weren't any sexy shirts that I could get away with without these things popping out. I was so one of those girls that wanted to wear what I wanted without all the negative remarks from men. I totally wanted them to overlook what was so clearly in their faces - fat chance in that ever happening.
When I turned 30 this wave of confidence took over. No longer the 16 year old C cup which I considered monsters at the time, I was now a woman with a much more mature bosom but no longer cared what anyone thought - in fact, I was proud to be at an older age with such perky things for their size. I do my best to tone them down at work (one thing I noticed about work...the more educated someone is the flatter their chest is...why is this? You never see well-endowed corporate executives - is it a pre-requisite to get a breast reduction or to use some pill to supress the growth? - I never understood this)....but when I go out it's whatever works. Not to say that I dress trashy, I don't - I'm not one of those hip-hugging wearing chicks who wear the backless shirts (are those still in?)...I would consider my style of dress casual-conservative with hints of sexiness. These babies stick out no matter what - so I have finally embraced them - they're mine and they ain't going anywhere...so I might as well let them shine!!
With that said, I got some new bras today. I had been in a bra slump - wearing some worn stretched out ones that were comfortable but things were getting so bad that I had to turn to the sexy push-up bras which are responsible for spillage. Spillage is good if you're wearing a low-cut top but not to the office in a button-down or any smooth-surfaced blouse. Spillage is sloppy looking. The sexy bras are also tight (better for support in any bra), so I was getting terrible imprints in my skin - not attractive.
I finally got fed up and went to JC Penny today for some sensible bras - these are the bras for every day use - they're not very sexy, but the selection has improved big-time over the years (big boobs and sexy bras were never found in the same sentence and as a young girl this bothered the hell out of me. I wrote Victoria's Secret a 2 page business case on why I should design bras for them saying how it was so unfair that all the bras were for girls who COULD wear push-ups and still have room to spare. Bra design might actually be my calling because it's something that still gets my blood boiling to this day - especially when I see women everywhere wearing ill-fitted bras but mostly when I run into my own problems (very selfish - I want what I want and I always think what I want is the better choice - something I need to get over generally speaking but not when it comes to my bras!!)
My new bras are great. I'm not sure if guys get the same feeling if buying boxer briefs as a woman feels when she puts on a new bra with awesome support - but it's just one of those things that can't be fully expressed in words...there are hand gestures, eye rolls and sighs that go hand in hand with the instant happiness of getting an appropriate fitting bra. It is truly like a weight's been lifted (pun intended), it makes you goofy and I can't stop cupping them and shaking them around, I want to keep admiring my new friends (the bras) - I might even name them all - they deserve all the praise I care to give them. I normally despise Mondays but I am anxious to get to bed to wake up at 5am JUST to put this thing back on (ok we all know that's a huge lie but it sounded good).
I might still write to the companies and offer some constructive criticism - like gel straps (saw this on some other bras which weren't worth buying because they offered no support) or reinforced sides - which I refer to as mini bras of armor (regular bras of armor are the long-down-to-the-waist strapless bras that us big-busted women have to wear if we want to wear a spaghetti strapped dress. The bra has boning in it and is not soft to the touch if you slow dance with a guy - it's armor, no other way to describe it). A lot of the VS push up bras have hardened sides which is good to narrow the boobs out or else they can go east/west the more the bra stretches out - we get enough of this trying to sleep on our backs....we certainly don't need this standing up. If I could get a bra designer to incorporate these two features into my latest buys, I think I would be able to die a happy woman. Until then, I'm going to enjoy what I have here and be thankful I'm lifted again.
I feel like a kid on Christmas morning - I'm never taking this thing off!
**Update**
Still loving the new bras, but I do have a complaint. No nipple control. One minute one is saying hello, the next the other is (which leads me to question, why aren't they both at full staff together?? Should I see a doctor about this?). But my coworkers must be loving me - lol.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Are other women or people in general like this or am I just a lunatic? I think it's just me!!
Ok, this is bad, first thing in the morning at WORK I'm going to write my first blog, but I might as well take advantage of my desire to type this morning. I actually have something to say. I must set a disclaimer that what you are about to read is not going to set the stage for a diary of my dating life (or as of right now a lack thereof). I don't want people to get excited that this is going to be a mini-series of sorts - this is not 24 and nothing here is continuous. I may talk about men today but bowel movements tomorrow (and now that I think about it...the two could possibly go hand in hand because the selection out there is shit at the moment). Let's get started.
I take an express bus and there is always some good looking guy on there. I am not chatty at all in the morning, so I say good morning maybe to the bus driver only. I have my coffee and my MP3 player and that is all I need. I see this guy on the bus occasionally and there is something about him that makes me nervous - but nervous in a way that I've had visions of sitting next to him and then somewhere on the ride, I just start holding his hand or making out with him after I start kneading his arm with my shoulder and just totally take him by surprise and give him the best bus ride of his life (this might be my dirty 30's taking control because I swear I didn't have thoughts like this in my 20's) . I can feel this guy staring at me but I am the biggest chicken shit around and can not make eye contact to save my life. I look at him as I'm scanning the bus for a seat, but as soon as I see that he's looking me directly in the eyes, my eyes change directions - I panic and get all shaky - and this would happen with any guy who makes eye contact with me on the bus. I have this wierd quirk about flirting on the bus where all eyes are on you and everyone knows "oooh these two are talking, they're having stupid conversation, do you hear this girl's voice, she whines" - how is it even possible for a woman my age to still have such childish thoughts - I should be able to flirt with whomever I want and not give a shit what others are thinking AND if I were normal (as this blog goes on you will be able to tell that I'm not), I would realize that there are probably only two nosy people who are actually paying attention to anything that's going on and everyone else is only concerned with sleeping - but since I am a paranoid lunatic this is a concept I just can't grasp.
So I'm across the aisle from bus boy, who appears to be in his early 30's...his glare is making me focus on some woman's newspaper up ahead. The fun begins as I make the lamest attempt in trying letting him know I'm interested with the fastest glance imagineable but it was so fast I couldn't even tell if he was looking back at me. Heading down the Bruckner, finally approaching 5th, I am brainstorming "how can I get more of this guy's attention?". So I do what any other sane adult would do - I start to BLAST my music. I am listening to Linkin Park but soon my favorite band is coming on the playlist (Offspring) - and my retarded logic is (I can not believe I am going to admit this out loud) - I will blast my music and when he hears my great taste in music, he'll get excited because he likes the same music too and that'll make him more attracted to me and then we'll be sure to talk soon because a guy can be clever enough to somehow start a conversation with a girl over mutual taste in music, no?
I see heads turning around constantly, now I'm self-conscious - is everyone annoyed with the volume of my player - but still I don't lower it - F them all, I have a goal here, I'm single and in my 30's, and the guy across from my could quite possibly be my future husband - ain't nobody getting in my way (but seriously, all I really want to do is smile at the guy, a little innocent smile). I'm sneaking glances at bus boy - I see his leg shaking to "Spare me the details", this is the song that I normally would lower the volume on since it's all about a guy's friend who catch said guy's girlfriend having sex with another guy at a party and it get's semi-graphic but the music is so pleasant- but where was I.....oh... I'm on the right track here...I'm brilliant...and he thinks I'm the coolest person around. (never thinking that maybe he just has a nervous twitch or anything..no no no... it's my music, it has to be). Well at some point I yawn and stretch a little but I stretch my arm back too far and hit the guy's leg behind me - I didn't even know there was any one there...crap, now I'm flirting with the wrong guy - this wasn't how it was supposed to go down - I hope bus boy didn't see that, but out of embarrassment I'm giggling and smiling to myself - he probably thinks I'm on medication at this point.
Well somewhere around 86th street the heads are really jerking around, especially from the woman next to me, but I was relieved to figure out the guy behind me was having such a loud conversation on his cell phone. But wait this isn't good after all, if everyone' getting annoyed at cell phone guy and NOT from my loud obnoxious music, chances are my music isn't even loud enough for bus boy to hear and I'm blowing out my eardrums for absolutely no good reason. I imagined the whole thing, created this little scenario in my head of a conversation he's having with his own head about how great I am all because of my taste in music - meanwhile he probably likes rap or something so totally different that even if he could hear it, he could have been thinking "what kinda crap iS this chick listening to".
It's almost my stop (51st Street), I start to gather my belongings, stand up - still feel his eyes on me but now I'm so done with the flirting (my pathetic excuse for flirting that is), I have accepted the fact that this was another wasted bus ride, and I will have to wait for next time, whenever that may be, to play out any other plans I can come up with to let this guy know I am interested in at least trying to get to know each other. I wish I were normal, I wish I could just get the courage to do SOMETHING .....maybe slip him my number and run (the commuting version of ring and run), or maybe, just maybe I can act like an adult, sit next to the guy and then strike up some sort of conversation - everyone's uncomfortable with talking to a stranger and guys always have that fear of rejection, so maybe he can't muster the courage to approach me either. Maybe one day I'll find out.
I take an express bus and there is always some good looking guy on there. I am not chatty at all in the morning, so I say good morning maybe to the bus driver only. I have my coffee and my MP3 player and that is all I need. I see this guy on the bus occasionally and there is something about him that makes me nervous - but nervous in a way that I've had visions of sitting next to him and then somewhere on the ride, I just start holding his hand or making out with him after I start kneading his arm with my shoulder and just totally take him by surprise and give him the best bus ride of his life (this might be my dirty 30's taking control because I swear I didn't have thoughts like this in my 20's) . I can feel this guy staring at me but I am the biggest chicken shit around and can not make eye contact to save my life. I look at him as I'm scanning the bus for a seat, but as soon as I see that he's looking me directly in the eyes, my eyes change directions - I panic and get all shaky - and this would happen with any guy who makes eye contact with me on the bus. I have this wierd quirk about flirting on the bus where all eyes are on you and everyone knows "oooh these two are talking, they're having stupid conversation, do you hear this girl's voice, she whines" - how is it even possible for a woman my age to still have such childish thoughts - I should be able to flirt with whomever I want and not give a shit what others are thinking AND if I were normal (as this blog goes on you will be able to tell that I'm not), I would realize that there are probably only two nosy people who are actually paying attention to anything that's going on and everyone else is only concerned with sleeping - but since I am a paranoid lunatic this is a concept I just can't grasp.
So I'm across the aisle from bus boy, who appears to be in his early 30's...his glare is making me focus on some woman's newspaper up ahead. The fun begins as I make the lamest attempt in trying letting him know I'm interested with the fastest glance imagineable but it was so fast I couldn't even tell if he was looking back at me. Heading down the Bruckner, finally approaching 5th, I am brainstorming "how can I get more of this guy's attention?". So I do what any other sane adult would do - I start to BLAST my music. I am listening to Linkin Park but soon my favorite band is coming on the playlist (Offspring) - and my retarded logic is (I can not believe I am going to admit this out loud) - I will blast my music and when he hears my great taste in music, he'll get excited because he likes the same music too and that'll make him more attracted to me and then we'll be sure to talk soon because a guy can be clever enough to somehow start a conversation with a girl over mutual taste in music, no?
I see heads turning around constantly, now I'm self-conscious - is everyone annoyed with the volume of my player - but still I don't lower it - F them all, I have a goal here, I'm single and in my 30's, and the guy across from my could quite possibly be my future husband - ain't nobody getting in my way (but seriously, all I really want to do is smile at the guy, a little innocent smile). I'm sneaking glances at bus boy - I see his leg shaking to "Spare me the details", this is the song that I normally would lower the volume on since it's all about a guy's friend who catch said guy's girlfriend having sex with another guy at a party and it get's semi-graphic but the music is so pleasant- but where was I.....oh... I'm on the right track here...I'm brilliant...and he thinks I'm the coolest person around. (never thinking that maybe he just has a nervous twitch or anything..no no no... it's my music, it has to be). Well at some point I yawn and stretch a little but I stretch my arm back too far and hit the guy's leg behind me - I didn't even know there was any one there...crap, now I'm flirting with the wrong guy - this wasn't how it was supposed to go down - I hope bus boy didn't see that, but out of embarrassment I'm giggling and smiling to myself - he probably thinks I'm on medication at this point.
Well somewhere around 86th street the heads are really jerking around, especially from the woman next to me, but I was relieved to figure out the guy behind me was having such a loud conversation on his cell phone. But wait this isn't good after all, if everyone' getting annoyed at cell phone guy and NOT from my loud obnoxious music, chances are my music isn't even loud enough for bus boy to hear and I'm blowing out my eardrums for absolutely no good reason. I imagined the whole thing, created this little scenario in my head of a conversation he's having with his own head about how great I am all because of my taste in music - meanwhile he probably likes rap or something so totally different that even if he could hear it, he could have been thinking "what kinda crap iS this chick listening to".
It's almost my stop (51st Street), I start to gather my belongings, stand up - still feel his eyes on me but now I'm so done with the flirting (my pathetic excuse for flirting that is), I have accepted the fact that this was another wasted bus ride, and I will have to wait for next time, whenever that may be, to play out any other plans I can come up with to let this guy know I am interested in at least trying to get to know each other. I wish I were normal, I wish I could just get the courage to do SOMETHING .....maybe slip him my number and run (the commuting version of ring and run), or maybe, just maybe I can act like an adult, sit next to the guy and then strike up some sort of conversation - everyone's uncomfortable with talking to a stranger and guys always have that fear of rejection, so maybe he can't muster the courage to approach me either. Maybe one day I'll find out.
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