Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Hey George, Get Out of My Bush!

I went to that March For Women's Lives pro-choice rally in DC last weekend. It was amazing. There were more than a million women (some hippie-types...and men!) there fighting for women's rights. The biggest protest in the history of the world!

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

Between Brooklyn, New Jersey and a Hard Place

I wish I had a time machine... No, not a time machine, something that'll like, zap me in another part of New York without me having to wait 20 minutes for my bus on the grassy knoll by the curb. Without having to get crabby with the fat black man who drives the bus for being late. Without having to sit in traffic in the bus on the GW Bridge. No surpassing the homeless man who plays the sax in the tunnel, not to mention me feeling guilty for not giving him a quarter. (Where's my quarter?! Get a job!) No being afraid for my life in the 175th St. Harlem subway station b/c it's rumored to be the station where the most people get pushed onto the tracks in front of moving trains. (I really don't fear for my life, but I've heard that rumor.) No sitting on the A Train then transferring at crotchety Times Square to the Q Train only to hear that annoying man who sells batteries (AA or AAA real Duracell batteries $2, AA or AAA real...)

You know what I'd like to be doing right this very minute? I'd like to be on the treadmill at Bally's. Rarely do I look forward to working out, but right now that's what I'd like to be doing and I'm stuck at work, about to leave for that grassy knoll. To go on my two-hour commute. I hate my commute.

Sunday, April 18, 2004

Here's to You, Mrs. Robinson!

Had a glorious time last night with pals at the B-Bar! But I must admit, the transition from winter's clunky boots to last summer's open-toed heels took its toll on my footsies--ouch! I ought to wear them around the house for practice before going out until 5 a.m.

I wasn't planning on staying out uber-late. A friend was suffering from boy drama though and wanted to make out with a random, so LIGHT BULB! We went to stupid Bar None--the ultimate stupid college boy-clad diveish bar w/ dance floor where if you're lookin' to make out, it's the place to be. Every time I go there, I always vow I'll never go back. See? I told you I have no self-control. Unfortunately, she didn't make out b/c our prospects were sour. But I DID meet a nice young man. It was funny—I was slightly drunk at this hour of 3 a.m. He was on his cell, and I was just staring at him. He saw me staring, and where I'd normally look away (the flirtress that I am), this time I didn't. And we just stared at each other for about 2 minutes. I think I was trying to seduce him with with my eyes, but I probably just looked drunk and stupid. Found out his name's Joe, and he's in college. Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson!

I love being 22. It's such an age of self-discovery. My wise 25-year-old roommate laughs when I rant about my dramatic excursions with my G-friends. Apparently, life is quite different when you're 25. I want to go to Atlantic City and pull a J.Lo's mom. Any takers?

Monday, April 12, 2004

Reflections on Miss Spears' Beer Belly

I'm working out--doing those 200 crunches from Glamour that guarantee results in six weeks (bye-bye beer bellaaah)--and Brit's "Lucky" comes on. Goes a little like this:

"She's so lucky, she's a star
But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking
If there's nothing missing in my life
Then why do these tears come at night"

And I'm like, she's a real person! Sometimes I forget that these people aren't just the objects that make my story. They cry, too! But then I came to my senses--most of us don't have 55-hour marriages, ruin a perfectly great relationship with Justin Timberlake and flaunt Kabbalah paraphernalia around like it's the best thing since peanut butter. I've done some dumbass things in my life, but I have SOME self-control.

Oh, but I don't have self-control when it comes to SBD. Day #8: It's over. Fuck eggs and fuck lettuce. I just had a PBJ, and it felt great! After losing 4 pounds, I'm a liberated woman. I came to the realization that this diet is for the obese, and that I am not. Tina Diet Day #1: I vow to work out and eat healthy like fat America should be doing.
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