Secret Single Behavior

What's your Secret Single Behavior? I'm sure Wikipedia has its own definition, but to me an "SSB" is an activity or ritual that you do only when you are home alone, and perhaps only after forcing yourself to break free from your standard routine when you are with others (like roommates, bfs, etc).

Living with my boyfriend for the past 5ish years has made it difficult for me to embrace my SSB, because we are usually together engaging in our Secret Couples Behavior (but that's another post...) and because our apartment is teensy, and when we're not together, I sometimes forget that I like to do things for myself besides watch Bravo marathons, scour Facebook, or go shopping.

When I had a recent evening to myself, instead of watching TV, I poured myself a bit of Amaretto over ice, lit candles, and put on my fav Putumayo album followed by Goldfrapp's Seventh Tree. I painted my nails for the first time in months, and thanks to a tip from the Luxury Spot, indulged in a mini facial c/o Elizabeth Grant's illuminating eye pads.

The best part about the mini facial, aside from feeling and looking legitimately refreshed afterwards, was how decadent it felt to spend 15 minutes lying on my couch, listening to my music...Relaxing for 15 minutes with your eyes shut without attempting to sleep--what a forgotten art!

I had time to think, and was reminded of all the hours I spent doing similar things with my bff Stephanie as a 13 year old girl: putting cucumber slices on our eyes, styling our hair just for the sake of doing it, using rejuvenating mud masks even though our skin was perfect, meditating to the flicker of a candle... Ahh, the good old days of focusing on ourselves and becoming women.

So since a blog is a conversation, and, of the handful of readers I have, most are men...Tell me: Do guys have Secret Single Behavior also? Does it freak you out when girls do their weird girlie behavior in front of you, like curl their hair and do their makeup without actually planning to go anywhere?

And for giggles, here is a list of my SSB's:

• Dancing to Reggaeton
• Getting glam and taking self portraits
• Drinking wine, listening to classical music, and thinking, mostly about melancholy/nostalgic sorts of things
  
• Netflix marathons

The secret is out :-P

Free Kitties...

"Babe, the ASPCA is waiving the adoption fee on cats this weekend [Dec. 13-14] for the holidays," I mentioned to my boyfriend after reading the pet adoption listings in this week's Time Out.

"Awesome, we should get a little mewpet."

"mmmm....Nah"

"We could at least adopt a bunch and give them to homeless people to eat...I mean, have....I totally didn't mean to say that, hahaha."

The Queen of Cheap doesn't have to look that way

I'm starting to seismically shift how I present myself to the world, and I'm not sure if I'm fully comfortable with it yet.

I've always thought of myself as the Queen of Cheap (move over Tyra Banks). My wardrobe has consisted of disposable clearance rack purchases and the most unique items I could find at mass market stores like H&M or New York and Company. News of the next Payless BoGo sale is music to my ears. I love the feeling of buying something/anything so cute and trendy and seemingly one-of-a-kind, even though I always see other people wearing my "unique" clothes.

The most perfect example of this is the Bitten Houndstooth coat I got at Steve & Barry's for $8.88. I've since seen at least 15 chicks walking around Manhattan in this coat, and even on one chick I sat next to on NJ Transit! "I like your coat, heh heh heh."

So I've always bought cute things with the intention of wearing them for a season and then purchasing 20 of the latest new additions a few months later. Maybe it's living in Manhattan, surrounded by beautiful people and beautiful fashion, maybe it's that I'm getting older, and/or maybe it's because Tim Gunn just sounds so smart when he says a woman's wardrobe needs only 10 essential items...but I want to invest in good quality, beautiful, classic items of clothing that I can wear for years to come (or at least until I have children and will never again have the body I have now). And I'm starting! Just bought my first Diane Von Furstenberg dress, thanks to the Depression-fueled sale at Barney's.

So when I mentioned above that I'm not quite sure I'm ready to make these changes yet, it all comes down to my other deep-rooted theory about my image: That I don't want to look like I'm trying to hard, or look too good. You will NEVER see me with a cute outfit, flawlessly applied makeup, and coiffed hair. 2 out of the three, yes, but never all three. It's probably an insecurity--that if I put a lot of effort into my appearance and no one notices or suddenly no one thinks I'm attractive, that would SUCK. So I might as well do just enough that I feel good about myself, without feeling fake.

In the past I've never wanted to look my best or like I'm trying too hard to look good at work, because I never want other people to think I've achieved the success I've achieved because of how I look. I know this is becoming a more far-fetched idea now that I'm getting older, but it's something I'm grappling with.

But the more I work with men (and women) who compliment me when I look good and think I'm smart when I say something smart regardless of how I look, and the more I read things about the importance of image and business (i.e. Sarah Palin's extensive wardrobe budget, or this awesome article by Penelope Trunk. Of course I've used her advice about spending money on image when the economy is bad quite literally--take today's DVF and Louboutin puchase...) the more I'm trying to be more comfortable looking put together.

I've stepped up my game lately--just a little bit, by adding a few Anne Taylor pieces to my wardrobe (a store that just a year ago I would have been caught dead shopping in because it's for "old people"). And I think people are taking me more seriously. I've even been told by a coworker that they "like the new me", and I'm thinking, "oh wow, how craptastic was the old me?"

So I'm taking baby steps to overcoming this insecurity---literally! My stride in my new 4 inch heels is a lot shorter and wobblier than in my usual Payless ballet flats, haha.

I bet my boyfriend had no idea he would be one of the factors that started this whole transformation when he uttered the simple words "Want me to get you those shoes you like for your birthday?", and that my friend Melissa really got me thinking when she said "You need to be careful what you wear with those--you don't want your outfit to make people think your shoes are fake."

Basically I think this utterly superficial fashion transformation I'm undertaking is really about moving towards a new level of confidence and maturity and comfort in being a successful chick in her *gasp* late twenties...

Eh, maybe that's not too superficial after all.

An Historic Election

Something has been bothering me for a while now, especially after everyone started talking about how the presidential election would be historic no matter who won, and ESPECIALLY now that everyone is talking about how historic it is now that we have our first African American President.

So anyways, here's my issue.

I am thrilled that Obama won the election, but my happiness keeps getting squashed every time a reporter calls it: "AN historic election" or "an historic day."

Who says its okay to use "AN" in front of a consonant? No one says, "I think I'd like an hamburger for dinner" or "My favorite animal is an hippopotamus."

If you're British, it makes sense, because your accent makes your "H's" relatively silent, so it would sound like "an 'istoric election."

(An exception that makes sense for all accents is the word "honest", because you don't really pronounce the H, like in "an honest mistake"...or "hour"...)

Does this bother anyone else? I googled this and while both versions are correct it looks like I'm with the majority on this issue...now I just wish people in the media would start saying the phrase without the faux British accent so I can enjoy the election results without anything clouding my emotions.

Missed the obligatory birthday post

So today is the first day I'm posting in over a month. I didn't even post on my birthday, nor have I really taken the time to reflect on what happened during the past year. 26 really flew by...

Let me pay tribute to 26 by listing some of the "firsts" I experienced before turning 27:

*Living in Manhattan for the first time gave me the following firsts:

• First broker's fee
• First encounter with a bug that actually made me shed tears out of fear
• First exterminator visit
• First Christmas Eve visit to the Rockefeller Center tree
  
• First sojourn to Williamsburg and Washington Heights
  
• First time trying on shoes that cost the same as my monthly rent
• First time getting a bagel and coffee delivered
• First time getting my laundry picked up and delivered
• First time riding the NYC Bus
• First Korean BBQ
• First walk around the Reservoir and visit to the Guggenheim
• First time attending a book signing
• First second-hand clothing store purchase
  

*First (and second!) time being a bridesmaid in a best friend's wedding: First toast, first time planning a bachelorette party, first burlesque show, first time beat-boxing in public (don't ask).

*First visit to New Orleans: First time taking the stage at Stiletto, first time riding a mechanical bull, first steamboat ride.

*First time taking actual business trips- First time ever to Chicago, first time going to Orlando and Phoenix on my own, first room service order.

*Discovered the joys of Guitar Hero, Rock Band, Absinthe, and Absolut Pears and Ruby Red, the Starbucks Double Shot on Ice, and private karaoke rooms with all-you-can-drink sake.

Is that it? Oh, and first time blogging.

Safest Seat on the Subway

Okay, prepare yourself for a glimpse into the small portion of my psyche that may be abnormal...

I didn't choose the title for this post because of its awesome alliteration; it is in hopes that if someone has the same question that I do, and tries Googling "safest seat on subway" perhaps they will see my page come up first and have some solace knowing that someone else is as crazy as they are. Because they aren't going to find answers on Google about which seat is the safest.

Do you ever have really morbid thoughts?

Sometimes when I'm on the train, and I lean my head against the wall when I'm sitting in a corner seat, or when I'm sitting right next to a pole, I wonder what my odds of death would be if the train crashed, and then wonder if my likelihood of survival is more or less than if I was sitting or standing elsewhere on the train. (Like, I'm guessing that standing in the midst of a crowd of people is much safer than sitting next to the pole, because all the people would cushion your fall--We all know I sit all the time so I guess that means I usually choose laziness over survival.)

I know I'm not alone in this type of insanity--In "Killing Yourself to Live", the memoir/history of rock star death, Chuck Klosterman thought a lot about his own death--but its not something you usually discuss with friends. Although, friends, would love to hear your crazy moments of noticing your own mortality.

The bright side is that this fear doesn't paralyze me. It's not even fear really, just another opportunity to create a life strategy...literally. Thinking about my skull cracking open every now and then has done nothing besides make me think 'I should blog about this'. I would just love a definitive answer of which subway seat is safest.

Theory on "People Watching" in NYC

I'd say the standard people-watching-for-fun scenario involves a breezy sidewalk-facing seat in a small cafe on a busy street. Life happens all around you yet you are invisible, a flaneur sipping coffee with wide eyes, listening to snippets of cell phone conversations, watching the latest fashion do's and don'ts, wondering what country everyone is from.

So what's my theory?

People watching in Manhattan is impossible unless you are surrounded by tourists.

The critical component of people watching that is missing in the city is the veil of invisibility; being able to watch without being watched. Every New Yorker loves people watching, and we do it all the time because there are just so many freaking people everywhere. And its become such a natural part of city life that we can't turn it off! We can't stop staring at people.

So while I'm at a restaurant watching people pass by, they are also watching me as they pass by! I can't count the number of times I've made accidental eye contact with people on the street while I thought I was in a state of quasi-invisibility. It's one thing to admire someone's shoes while you're slurping pasta, but it's another thing entirely to have a girl with cute shoes watch you eat. It sucks.

I do it too...When I walk up 2nd Ave in my neighborhood, I always look at the people sitting outside, eating their dinner. Are they on a date? Does the food look good? Why would you bring your dog to a restaurant? All these questions go through my mind as I unabashedly check everyone out.

I do feel guilty when they look back at me, because I've invaded their space. The only reason outdoor dining exists in this city (this world?) is to watch people walk by, and it sucks to have those people watching you.

It's like going to the theater to watch a regular play, only to be surprised by uncomfortable audience participation.

Thank God for places like The Met and Union Square: Meccas of people watching as we know and love it!

Tourists are so busy being wrapped up with the sensory explosion that is EVERYTHING about the city--cars, buildings, art, garbage, lights, smells, the fast pace--that their eyes are anywhere but looking directly into yours. Anonymity at last.

Enjoy this photo from a recent people watching extravaganza at the Met's rooftop bar/exhibition space:



My friend Margaret and I hid from the oppressive sun and heat by sitting on the ground, leaning up against the railing. We were in the shadows and had the perfect vantage point for watching everyone else milling about, posing for pictures, looking at the view, etc. Needless to say, the evil (and pear martini) in me decided to take some paparazzi-esque photos of some of the better specimens.





I also looked at the art. But the people were much more thought-provoking.

The Latest in Cemetery Fashion

Today was Rob's grandma Celia's unveiling at a cemetery on Long Island. It was a very somber family gathering and a very moving short ceremony. I only saw one other family at the cemetery and it's because of them that the day had a glimmer of humor.

The family--the parents, grandparents, and toddlers--were all wearing matching t-shirts.

Get this:

The front of the shirts said "Cemetery Tour" in a bright orange/yellow star burst, and the back of the shirts said:

4 Cars
3 Cemeteries
2 Boroughs
1 Potty Break

Love the concept of the dead ancestor pilgrimage. Don't understand the t-shirts!

Tasti D-Lite is D-Funny

What's wrong with this picture? (Taken at the UES location on 86th Street)

Close your eyes and imagine...

I'm not the sharpest tool in the technology toolbox. I'm the opposite of an early adopter.

As I struggled to take a cell phone pic of a fashion victim on the subway today, it dawned on me that no one would ever see the photo except for me. Never have I ever engaged in any sort of "mobile upload". Its fine that I sometimes do things just for me, but then I get a fleeting philosophical wonderment that if no one knows about something except me, did it really happen?
My cell phone photos = a tree falling in the forest with no one there to hear it. Until now.

My solution is not to start mobile-ly uploading photos. Maybe next year. For now I will give you all an exercise in visualization with some of my favorite random camera pics from the last year, starting from today and working back in time. Read and imagine:

• Man on subway who would pass for normal if he didn't wear his pants pulled up so high they were barely below the fold of his man boob, making the cuff of his pants sit well above shoe-level. And he was drinking directly from a 2 liter Pepsi bottle with no sign of its cap.

• Picture from the most recent college student convention (or dork festival) I attended showing as many costumed specimens as possible parading around the exhibit floor. Imagine lots of Mardi Gras-themed regalia--gold sequins, masks, jester hats, leis, etc.

• A picture of an ad for www.spiegelworld.com that I saw while browsing the magazine racks at Barnes and Noble. I didn't feel like buying the magazine, but wanted to remember to buy tickets to one of their upcoming variety shows. Can't resist a sexy show.

• Blurred image that didn't come out at all, but it was valiant attempt at a paparazzi-style photo of 6 teenage girls geared up for a Friday night on the Lower East Side all wearing the EXACT SAME OUTFIT. Black ankle-length leggings plus jewel-toned tunics/blousons.

• Drunk boy on the subway laying across a few seats, falling in and out of sleep holding a mini-bouquet of yellow roses, sniffing them the entire time.

• Drunk man on subway at rush hour drinking directly from a Jack Daniels bottle and spewing crazy talk about how men should never pay a woman's rent, and how he didn't hate the wearing the Red Sox hat.

• Assorted photos from my night at a gala in the Waldorf=Astoria for a minority/finance/MBA association, including a dance troupe performance to a Latin/Caribbean big band, involving such costumes as a matador, a navy boy, and an interpretation of the Sex and the City characters.

• Photo of an activist truck advertisement with a picture of the Pope and Dali Lama, and the message "Guess who's eating veal?" I haven't checked out www.holyveal.com, the truck's sponsor, but I'm guessing those two are eating veal...

And last but certainly tops....

• A picture from a recent couture exhibit at the Met (titled blog.mode: addressing fashion): an ornate necklace, who's main decorative feature is 5 vials filled with SEMEN linked together. Tough to visualize, eh...check it out here:

http://blog.metmuseum.org/blogmode/2008/01/10/vial-things/

Bandaids are for cuts and scrapes

Is my life so bland that the only interesting things I notice happen on the subway to and from work? That's a question for another day...

There were three loud, obnoxious PR/Fashion industry girls talking loudly on the train this evening about their jobs, their clients, their moves to Manhattan, so naturally I directed my attention to them. And I kept looking because I couldn't figure out if they were pretty or trying too hard, obnoxious or if I was just jealous of their "glamorous" lifestyles, younger that me or just more naive, dressed well or just a touch last season, had good hair or too much help from the curling iron...(Who am I kidding?....Its the latter on each count.)

When the youngest, cutest girl mentioned something about someone tugging at her dress, I turned to look. It was a drapey, red dress made of a very thin, springy synthetic fabric. Kinda shapeless but unique enough to be wearable.

The neck-line caught my eye, and then the outline of a bandaid caught my eye! Oh poor dear. She went bra-less and covered her nipples with bandaids, and the dress was so clingy that the outline of the bandaids were super duper obvious. The poor thing deserved a black bar over her face on the Glamour "Fashion Don't" pages. Her "friends" must have casually declined to mention this to her.

************

Just so I don't have awful karma and end up ugly and unloved, let me quickly describe the totally beautiful girl I saw on the subway this morning. She was a probably-not-American Asian girl in an effortlessly chic outfit complete with Chanel purse, but she wasn't dressed to flaunt herself--she just looked beautiful in her cream sheath dress with interesting pockets at the hip, and jeweled flat sandals. Even her eye makeup was discreet yet really captivating--she used just the right amount of white-ish/silver highlighter on the inner corner of her lower lids that brightened up her whole complexion. All the guys on the train couldn't stop looking at her. And she was reading National Geographic Traveler so she was smart too. That's beauty! (And proof I'm not a total hater.)

"I'll stand. I've been sitting all day"

Call me lazy, call me the Andy Rooney of bloggers (can you figure out why I'm earning this nickname?), but if given the option, I almost always prefer to sit than stand. One of my biggest pet peeves is when I am at happy hour with coworkers and there aren't enough bar stools to go around. Invariably, someone will announce that they don't need to sit because they've been sitting all day. Fine by me--that means I get the seat!

I just hate that line. Sounds a little self-righteous. And it reminds me of my penchant for laziness.

I always get a seat on the 6 train. I shimmy my way to the center of the car and snag an open seat as soon as someone gets up, typically after a stop or two. As soon as the train starts slowing down, I begin checking for people closing their books, putting their bags on their shoulders, tensing their muscles like they're going to stand up. I am so ready to pounce. My ride is 15 minutes, so, whatever, I prefer to sit.

Well, after work I was determined to get a seat as soon as I got on at 23rd Street. I was tired and hot.

I hastily went for the first open seat I saw---between a regular-sized dude and an obese woman. Not my best judgment, but I figured they'd both be able to move over just enough for me to comfortably fit.

Wrong! The hefty lady didn't move at all, and I ended up sandwiched between them, having to shrug my shoulders in order to fit without pressing too strongly against them. They were there first after all and I'm considerate, haha.

As we approached every stop I kept hoping that the woman or the dude would get up! I was super uncomfortable, but didn't want to get up and make the fat lady feel bad about essentially taking up two seats on a bench seat that typically holds 3 people with room to spare.

So I just stayed there until the lady got off at 77th Street, physically uncomfortable, sorry that I destroyed the roominess that the other two people were enjoying before I got on board, and grappling with whether I should risk hurting this fat woman's feelings by getting up for a new seat, and also wondering how this woman could be so large, living in Manhattan where climbing a stair or two and walking a block or two everyday is inevitable.

Okay, so I'm Andy Rooney. I accept it. At least I stayed on topic though.

In Disney for a Convention

So I'm in Orlando for a conference, where I'm exhibiting, giving a presentation, and sitting on a panel discussion. I was expecting a lovely "resort" experience, since the name of my hotel has the word "resort" in it.

Instead, I feel like I walked onto a cross between the Miley Cyrus show and the pageant scene from Little Miss Sunshine. Everything here is just a little trashier than you'd expect. My "resort" is really a series of motels--my room is a 7 minute walk outdoors from the hotel lobby, and upon my arrival at midnight last night, was told that a golf cart would take me and my bags to the room. Needless to say the golf cart driver was on break, so I was standing outside in the fog for several minutes angrily swapping away mosquitoes waiting for his return. (The octogenarian driving the cart has been doing the job for the past 11 years! Crazy.)

Due to hurricane/tropical depression/whatever Bertha, it is foggy and humid and rainy, and there are TONS of snails and bugs everywhere, and my "resort hotel" room is really a ground floor motel room with bad lighting and a door that unsafely leads directly to the outside world.

Oh, did I mention that I have no cell reception in my room?

...So I'm here for a conference and the convention center is connected to the "hotel". It is also hosting the National Dance Masters Competition, so there are little girls with cake makeup, leotard wedgies, and false eyelashes strewn about, teenage boys in tights, and old southern chain-smoking ladies stressing out about the timing of the classes and auditions.

But I am here for work, and though the work hasn't started quite yet I'm already feeling slightly famous. Since I'm a featured speaker (I'm giving a talk on how to write a personal statement and sitting on a panel about how to get a job with a liberal arts degree) I have a photo and bio write-up in the conference brochure.

Well, awesomely, my photo and bio are adjacent to the keynote speaker of the conference, Tim Ferris of "4 Hour Work Week" fame. I love this man! He is super famous and since my photo and bio is right next to his that makes me seem just as important and awesome as him. We'll be bff soon, and I'll be landing speaking gigs with huge honorariums in no time.

Ironic Subway Ride

There's something profoundly different between taking the subway home
right after work and taking the train home after happy hour. No, its
not that the trains are less crowded--it's that they're crowded with
drunk crazies.

Tonight was just ironic because there was a drunk and psychotic woman
on the train, talking to herself, cursing at random people--the usual.
And another woman comes on and starts talking to me about how this
woman is talking to herself and how she would never think to bother
people on the train like that.

Over the next 7 stops we talked about how she just sleeps on the train
when she's drunk (but never by sprawling out on the seat), how she
always wears a sweater as soon as she gets cold (tonight it was a
large american flag sweater), then she started speculating about what
would happen if the cops came and saw this woman drinking her beer and
spouting the f-bomb...She naturally transitioned to talking about
police brutality... We shared memories of Abner Louima and she quizzed
me on whether I remembered if the cop who initiated a recent incident
was black or white. Good times.

Apparently there was a recent incident where police killed a deaf,
mute, machete-weilding dude. She thought the cops should have called a
translator for backup before using force against him. Interesting
idea, but who am I to judge? Haha.

Anyways, made for a fun ride. I always like talking to randoms,
especially strange ones because it makes for a good story and you
never know just how lonely someone is and how helpful you're being by
being friendly. Maybe laughing with and being interested in what this
woman had to say was the kind of interaction she needed, or maybe
talking about other people's problems made her feel better about her
own. I guess that's not unique -- I suppose we all look for that type
of fleeting companionship/validation every now and then.

Announcement!

I kinda sorta finally have the internet at home!  Rob’s new BlackBerry can be hooked up to our home computer.  Yay!  Real-time blogging—commence.

 

Prepare yourselves for an action-packed blogosphere explosion of Missa Stuff in the coming days/weeks.  Work has been too busy to blog during lunch, hence the super-long hiatus. 

Ahh, the bygone DC days...

A few weeks ago, I was talking about my new blog venture with my friend Rachel, and mentioned that the hardest part is writing about myself. I don't usually talk about myself unless I'm asked specific question—because I hate to share things that might not be interesting to other people—nothing worse than listening to an awful story. So she offered to send me a few questions to get the ball rolling! One of her first questions was to compare my life in DC to my life in NY. I lived in DC for 3 and a half years, and here are some of the things that I miss. More posts related to my sense of place to come!...

• Happy Hour culture with Happy Hour discounts. When I first got there in 2004, martinis were $3 each at the M Street Bar and Grill all day, every day. Now I pay $10+.

• My girl Mellie J Shoutout to Melissa!!! She was a great partner in crime, and a friend who was more fun than me, so I had someone to keep up with. Luckily she visits very often J

• Rock Creek Park was 100% accessible from my cute apartment on Porter Street, NW. In just a 5 minute walk, Rob and I could be walking on the semi-secluded path along the creek. Now I'm a 15 minute walk from Central Park, which is awesome but doesn't really feel like nature.

• My apartment was built on a site near the zoo, with lots of wildlife. Rob and I would wake up to birds chirping, bugs zapping (?), and other outdoorsy noises. (Of course it felt like Jurassic Park at first, but it was nice to wake up to on a lazy Saturday.) Now we wake up to the weird moans that the nesting pigeons make right outside our bedroom window. The claws scratching on our A/C is also incredibly annoying. That one time a pigeon flew into our apartment wasn't fun either!

• A dinner costing more than $12 felt expensive. Best Indian food ever at Indique on Connecticut Ave, cost $13 per entrée. At least 3 days a week I spend $12 on LUNCH in Manhattan.

Best things about DC:

Belga Café, Le Madeline, Nooshi, the museums, the sculpture garden, the monuments, my friends, Café Citron, DANCING, the Ecuadorians, happy hour culture, driving, and at times I really miss the awful fashion sensibility—it was sooooo easy to look awesome compared to everyone else!

Bland day

So I didn't want this blog to turn into "what lame and uninteresting things Missa did today" but maybe that's what it needs to be in order for me to have something to write about regularly.  Here's what happened today…

 

1. While getting dressed I was momentarily excited about the colder-than-it-should-be-for-the-end-of-May weather since it gave me an excuse to wear a really cute Banana Republic ¾ length sleeve top that was MIA under a pile of magazines, catalogues, mail, and gift certificates until a recent cleaning binge.   Now the cold and rain has just left me depressed.
2. Today on the subway, there was this really annoying high school girl who had the worst "s" pronunciation problem—the one where it whistles every time you go "sssss", but with her it was so much worse because she had a thick New York "oh no she di'n't" accent with a fast syncopated timbre, and somehow whistled her "t"s also.  Needless to say, she talked the whole time.
3. Had Chipotle for lunch.  They put too much sour cream on my bol. 
4. I started working on the consumer value proposition for a new "product" my company is launching.  I'm actually typing this blog entry into that document, before cutting and pasting it into ye olde blog, haha.  I'm usually more productive, but this rainy, cold weather is killing me. 

Wow, I feel very negative today -- even more so now that the list of things that happened today is only 4 things deep.  Boring! 

 

I suppose I should leave this on a positive note:  The best thing about today is that I'm leaving work an hour early so that the IT guy can move my computer to my new desk.  Desk #4 in 7 months...funny, just met boss #4 yesterday.  The cosmos have lined up yet again.

$$$ and aging and smartness

I’m not posting this to divulge financial information or even for you to continue reading beyond this paragraph.  Just LOOK at this email that Rob just sent to my work account (see below).  At first glance I was worried that I wouldn’t understand it, but I totally do.  I feel like a 60 year old bald man—a smart one though!  This is what elderly people talk about.  What ever happened to racy emails that could get you fired?  Well, I suppose this is getting me into the right state of mind for spending tonight at the country club in my version of a “country club casual” outfit.  I’ll be sure to talk about my awesome stock pick over dinner with Rob’s family.

 

Check out my TD Ameritrade Account info for ETrade stock.  It shows that on April 14, 2008 I purchased 100 shares of ETrade (symbol: ETFC) at $3.40 per share for a total cost of $349.99 (that includes a $9.99 transaction fee, without which the cost would have been $339.99, which is approx $3.40 * 100 shares = $339.99, give or take a penny in rounding.)  Then approximately 1 month later, on May 16, 2008 (today), I sold 100 shares of ETrade (ETFC) at $4.41 per share for a total gain of $431 (which would have been about 10 bucks higher without the 9.99 fee - $4.41 per share * 100 shares = approx $441.00).  So, excluding the two 10 dollar fees, my gain in one month on this transaction was approx. $101.00, or about a 30% gain.  Not bad, except since I held for less than a year before selling I get taxed at approx 40% rate (I think that’s my income tax rate) rather than the lower capital gains tax rate - so that kinda sucks actually.  Darn.  Anyway, I finally MADE REAL MONEY in the stock market, for the first time, ever – even though I’m up about $800 dollars in the last two months in Apple and Visa stock, because those are only “paper” gains since I haven’t sold anything.  Note that I’m still only up about $100 overall in my investment career, due to an unfortunate $700 LOSS (real, not paper) last year when I panicked and sold my Apple stock as it was plummeting from $200 to $120, and only 1 day before it shot up like $15 bucks a share…but then fell back again in the weeks that followed.  I kinda suck at this investment thing…but I’m glad I was able to finally make something real here: Without taxes and transaction fees I made $101.00 in about a month.

 

Now, you own LeapFrog and which you purchased at $6.02 (50 shares) = $301.00 (without accounting for the 9.99 fee) on January 29, 2008.  The stock closed today at $8.98, so you are up 49.17%, or $148.00 (without accounting for fees and taxes), in only about 3 and a half months.  If you hold on to this until January 29, 2009, then you will be taxed at only 15-20% I think (the capital gains tax rate) rather than your normal tax rate when you sell it.  That could be great...even better if it continues to skyrocket.  50% in around 1/3 of a year!  Imagine that we were so happy getting 4-5% from ING accounts in A FULL YEAR.  *Of course, my 30% gain in 1 month is greater than your 50% gain in 3.5 months…but you are still up more money than I am in your 3.5 months of “investing” – and I invested more than 10 times the amount of money you did – actually 20 times the amount you did, and I invested for nearly a year!  So nice work. -Rob

Careerbuilder gets it

 

Now this is some outrageous marketing!

 

See “R-Rated” CareerBuilder ad here: http://www.ere.net/inside-recruiting/news/careerbuilder-backs-off-on-r-rated-182270.asp

 

Wish I thought of this!

 

 

Goldfrapp - emotional, physical, haunting music

I saw Goldfrapp in concert at the Beacon Theater and was reminded why I love their music so much.  If only the show took place in a dance hall or a swank lounge—then it would have been one of my favorite listening experiences!  I’m not going to write a review of the band, but if you want to hear one of the sexiest songs ever recorded, you can listen here:

 

http://www.last.fm/music/Goldfrapp/_/Strict+Machine

 

Let me know what you think J

Is this irony...or stupidity?

I spent a lovely evening last night in Washington Heights, checking out my girl's new apartment and enjoying mofongo at El Malecon. I would write about what my impression of the neighborhood was, and yadda yadda yadda, but one of those random gifts from God happened--the ones where something so crazy takes place and you are just thankful to have witnessed it.

So we're at this restaurant, enjoying mofongo and albondigas (sp?), and we notice a man walking from table to table with a huge shopping bag full of perfume. He's trying to sell it to the other patrons--not us though; I guess he knew we didn't speak Spanish. This on its own is a little bizarre, as I've only seen men interrupt people's meals to sell roses, but I guess perfume is a better gift than a rose!

I notice the perfume salesman sneeze. I look up at him and he looks awful! His eyes are red, his cheeks are red, his forehead is red, he is sniffling and wiping away tears...he is clearly deathly allergic to perfume. People at the table are laughing, he's pointing to his eyes, nodding knowingly. I didn't understand their conversation but I guarantee it went something like this:

"Dude. What the eff? You are crying like a girl over that perfume!"

"I know, I know, I am allergic, but I have to make a living, no?"

"Mommy, that man is crying, hahaha."

WHY would you choose to make a living doing something that caused constant physical problems; problems that actually inhibit you from doing your job? (You can't really sell something when you're sneezing, can you?) I understanding hating your job, doing something just for the money...but this confuses me.

Snoring and Toenails and Spooning, oh my!

I'm an awesome girlfriend during the day, but as soon as the sleeping happens, Rob starts to have issues. Everyone's got their crazy sleeping habits I suppose, but I can usually fall asleep right away even if Rob is twitching like crazy (I once counted him twitching 25 times before I finally fell asleep) or shaking his foot (don't ask---ever since he was a kid he used to lull himself to sleep by shaking his foot---no clue why).

But I let these things go. I'm used to them. I fall asleep first now and don't get bothered by anything he does in his sleep.

Not so with this boy. My snoring and my toenails send him to the breaking point.

I snore. Almost every night. I'm usually oblivious to both my snoring and Rob's attempts to stop me from snoring but sometimes he tells me about them. He will hold my nose, tap my head, hit me in the back, shake me…whatever it takes. And I never notice. The other night though, I was having one of those very active dreams where I felt like I was awake, and all of a sudden in real life Rob put his hand over my nose and mouth, a la a criminal trying to silence his victim from behind before he drags her into a field and kills her. He's been doing this forever, and this was the first time I noticed, but immediately woke up, freaking out, thinking that he was trying to kill me. This was way scarier than the time he had a mini night terror and punched me in the back.

My toenails also prevent this boy from getting any sleep. No matter how gingerly I try to get into and out of the bed or move around, I and up scratching up his poor shins, and he FREAKS out. He never remembers this in the morning, but he has insanely violent reactions to this. I've been retaliated against many a time.

Two nights ago I nicked his shin with my big toe and was expecting to have to fight off his toenail-ed retaliation, but instead he sat up in bed and yelled "SPOON". So we started spooning and went back to bed. Phew. He remembers none of this.

The goal of this blog....drumroll please....

These are the topics that I think I’m qualified to write about and will force myself to do so as often as possible until I create a specialized blog (hopefully something I can monetize and use to become super-famous in the blogosphere).  But I’m new to this and don’t have any readers yet, so for now I’ll focus on:

 

1. My relationship:  My boyfriend and I are like a barrel of monkeys when we’re together, and have a great thing going.  We’ve been together since high school and have lived together for four years, but also manage to be fairly independent and laissez-fair when it comes to socializing.  I don’t think this is weird, but everyone I know does!  So maybe I can shed some light on what makes us work well together.  People are always asking about us (why we’re not married, does he really exist, etc, etc) so might as well throw it all out there.

 

2. My friends:  I think I am an expert listener.  I ask tons of questions, people tell me everything.   I’m just really curious about the human condition in general, what gets people going, what their issues are, nuances in their personality, etc.  And I was telling one of my best girlfriends this weekend that I want to tell some of my friends’ stories on my blog and she thought it was hysterical:  “So people confide in you, and now you’re going to tell their secrets to everyone??”  But that’s not it, though I will keep the sensationalist stuff anonymous.  I think I want to talk about my take on my friends’ experiences.  From a sociological perspective, not a gossipy one ;)  I swear!

 

3. Random occurrences that NEED to be documented:  Like the time that I saw two dogs wearing identical bubblegum pink parkas cross paths right in front of me.  When the cosmos line up like that, you need to tell someone!  Too many absurd things happen all the time not to write them down.

 

4. My career/expertise:  I’ve been in a similar industry for the 5 years since college and know what I’m doing.  Every job I’ve had has pertained to careers or graduate school admissions, and I’ve given over a hundred lectures on how to write personal statements, navigate the admissions process, personal branding, and blah blah blah.  I need to maintain my expertise in these areas if I ever want to expand beyond marketing and become a product myself (i.e. overpaid consultant).  And I’m learning that TONS of career-related blogs exist, so I need to get on the ball with this and be competitive.

 

5. Things I get excited about:  I tend to be pretty laid back, basically because I’m so blunt that nothing really shocks me, but occasionally I get really excited!  Usually this excitement happens when I’m telling friends about how cheap my most recent purchase was, finding the most amazing sushi ever, reading a really great book on human sexuality or economics.  So when I have these ‘omigosh’ moments, I’ll use this as a forum to share the info.

 

That’s enough, right?  For 365 blogs posts a year?  Haha, we’ll see…

The Pope Comes to NYC

The Pope’s visit to New York has left my boyfriend and me with lots of funny words to amuse ourselves with.

 

My favorite exchange:

 

BF:  What does the Pope use to connect two pieces of paper?

 

Me:  …A Pope-er Clip?

 

BF:  That’s a good one!  I was thinking Papal-er.

 

 

I love my boyfriend

Just received this email from my boyfriend. We are opposites:

"In other news, I’m all hyped up on black coffee. Here’s a quick recap of how I got this way.

1) Purchased tuna for lunch YUM!
2) Ate tuna in office with door closed
3) Finished lunch and realized office reeked of tuna
4) Sprayed cologne all over office to cover up smell of tuna (yes, I have cologne here)
5) Office then reeked of cologne and the partner working next to me made a comment about the smell emanating into the hallway (more like making fun of me than angry – he said he’d prefer the tuna when I explained why I sprayed it)
6) Decided coffee smell would cover up the cologne (not sure why I thought that)
7) Also decided that adding milk would dilute smell
8) Left open cupS of coffee on desk
9) Coffee smell did NOT cover up cologne smell
10) Felt compelled to drink my two cups of black coffee anyway
11) Did I mention I didn’t add sweetener to the coffee?
12) Cannot stop fidgeting SUCKS! "

COMING SOON

Missa's Blog is Coming Soon (as soon as she thinks of things to say).

"Back then, the days were as cool and sweet as a sip of lemonade, and the night sky was filled to the brim with bright shiny stars. Now there's so much noise and pollution that you can't even hear yourself think. People are always screaming and shouting for no good reason, zipping around from place to place, and the hustle and the bustle and my anus leaks, and it's all computers."