Crazy career always getting in the way

It seems like every time I answer my Razor these days, one of my girlfriends is on the other end screaming about getting engaged. How did this happen? When did my friends suddenly stop being sex fiends and start sucessfully having serious relationships? When did they trade in their crazy, drunken late nights for early, sober ones? And most importantly, when did all my girlfriends suddenly turn into these scary things called Brides-To-Be?

Don’t get me wrong, I think one day I would like to settle down. But that one day is not any time soon. I figure, what’s the rush? I would really like to establish myself in the career world and become financially independent before signing away my single life, forever. What I really question is, why do so many women feel like they have to trade a career for a man? Why cant women have both? We don’t live in a Leave it to Beaver world anymore. Unfortunately, divorce happens in 1 in 2 marriages. Women should prepare themselves for that. I am no feminist by any means but women should really stop relying on men for all their financial support. Its 2007- it’s about time women start taking control of their own fortune and happiness in life.

I recently read a darling article (atleast at first thought) in the July issue of Skirt. It was written by a very intelligent Columbia graduate. At first, I thought it was written beautifully, witty, and gave the whole prenuptial agreement a whole new light.

Wife For Hire
Sure,” I tell my fiancé the first time he mentions a prenuptial agreement. I’ve always assumed he’d want one. He has money and that’s what people with money do- they protect it.
“I don’t really care about it,” he says with an apologetic grin, “it’s just that my financial adviser…”
“It’s ok,” I interrupt him, “I’d love to.”
A couple of days later, on a warm early May evening, as we sip wine on the porch of his Cape Cod summer house, discussing what music to walk down the aisle to, he brings it up again. What a romance killer! The last think I want right now- two months before we vow for better or worse, till death do us part-is to be dragged into a debate of who gets what in the event of divorce.
“Just draft the damn thing with your lawyer and I’ll sign it,” I say and get up to prepare dinner.
The third time he invokes the prenuptial is to tell me to get a lawyer. Unless I am legally represented, the contract is invalid. It isn’t enough that I have to plan the wedding and arrange the honeymoon, but I have to look for a lawyer too?
“Don’t worry,” he says, “my attorney recommended one for you. Just call him and tell him that Mangold referred you.”
While I admire the Manhattan skyline through the floor-to ceiling windows of my lawyer’s midtown 19th-florr office, he gives me a brief review of New York State Marital Law.
If an asset is acquired after the marriage, he says, it is considered marital property unless it is a gift or inheritance. In the event of divorce, marital property is equitable divided between the spouses.
It sounds pretty fair to me, and I nod.
“You understand, don’t you,” he says, looking into my eyes, “that with the prenuptial agreement your fiancé is asking you to waive the rights granted you by state law?
I snap to attention. “Waive my rights?”
“He’ll specify in the prenuptial agreement what he wants to give you instead of what you the rights to have under state law,” he says and explains that these kinds of agreements are usually structured around the number of years the marriage lasts.
“Does that make sense?” he asks.
“It sounds just like the contract I signed at work.”
I get it now- my fiancé is hiring me for a wife: “Here’s your contract, honey. If you quit or I lay you off, say, in two years, you get this much, in twenty years, this much.”
And it’s up to my attorney to get me a fat severance check.
Just as I’ve become comfortable thinking in the plural and planning for our future, the prenuptial forces me to revert to thinking of my interests. To protect myself for the man I am marrying.
Call me a hopeless romantic, but when did divorce become as inevitable as death? Sure, shit happens, but I don’t want to be thinking at the alter, “till divorce do us part.” What bothers me most though is the feeling I am assigned a price tag. And a low one at that.
Later that evening, when my fiancé thanks me for dinner, I force a smile before I reply: “that’s why you pay me the big bucks, boss,” I say. He looks at me in dismay.
“Wait, you havent even hired me yet,” I go on. “I’m jus the intern, busting my ass for free in hope of being prompted to Wife.”
He doesn’t find it funny. And he’s right. What’s gotten into me lately. I’ve turned bitter, and as he points out, we havent even discussed the money yet. But that’s because it’s not about the money.
The prenuptial had made perfect sense to me when I thought it was mean to protect the assets my fiancé would come with to the marriage. Now that I know it safeguards the money my husband will make while I am at home taking care of our children, I am no longer sure.
After three years together, we have figured out that-surprise! - he has a comparative advantage in bringing home the bacon while I’m better at cooking it and cleaning up afterwards. As long as we’re both happy with the labor distribution as such, it sounds like an equal partnership to me. And should there be a divorce, both parties-according to the state law-walk away with half of the bacon accumulated during the marriage.
I can see how it might seem unfair to have to divide what he makes. After all, housekeeping and babysitting, which we both agree would be my share of the deal, are not the most profitable jobs. And should we make a numerical comparison, my contribution would seem pathetic at best. But how about all the money I will not be making because instead I’ll be changing diapers and cooking dinners?
I picture us divorced in 10 years. He- a successful gray-haired professional in his early fifties, behind the wheel of a convertible, a twenty-something chick next to him. I- in my forties, an out-of-shape divorcee with two kids and no job. He’s only gotten richer, while my value (professionally and physically) has decreased faster than his car’s. What’s so wrong with sharing the money we’ve made for these 10 years? And I mean we, for I would have built no career, secured no highly-paid job.
The more I think about the prenup, the more I worry. Wouldn’t it allow my future husband an easy way out? Wouldn’t it turn our marriage into a risk-free deal that can be easily broken should a younger-than-me stray woman show up? I shouldn’t be distrustful of my fiancé, I scold myself. But, then again, would he need a prenuptial if he trusted me?
But that is what marriage is all about. We are both taking risks by undertaking a life together. He risks losing money and I risk losing a career. And it seems to me-if we are to keep score-that the latter is a lot more valuable. It provides money but also fulfillment. I’m willing to give it up for our future family but if we are to divorce one day, a forsaken career would be worth more than money can buy.
We married in July, sans the prenuptial.

So, like I said, I first read this and I thought it was super cute. Then a couple hours later, I started getting bothered by this woman's thought process. If the woman is so worried about losing a chance at a career then why doesn’t she just have one? Why cant she have a family AND a career? And why does the woman already envision herself as an old hag at the age of 40? My mother is 65 and still looks like she is 40. That’s certainly not by luck. It's because she takes very good care of herself.

I just think women are worth more than just being a man’s slave, so to speak. If a woman is happy becoming a housewife then more power to her. I don’t think I could do it, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with being one. Just don’t bitch about it like the woman in the essay. She is making a conscious choice to give up a fulfilling career, as she states it. She could have both, the family and the career, but she chooses only to peruse one path, not both. I don’t know, just seems like this marriage thing is worth more trouble than not. I am sure one day I’ll be ready for it but as of right now, I am definitely enjoying playing the field.

LOVES

mer

Comedy Hour with 2 men named Dave

I remember sitting in Emotive Writing when Tania read a story about a man finding poop in a foreign toilet. At first I was extremely disgusted. I am not a big fan of the toilet talk. Sex talk, yes. Ebarrassing bodily functions, not so much. A couple months down the road, I found and purchased a penny book on Amazon. I didn’t know anything about the author but the reviews sounded great. A week later, Me Talk Pretty One Day came in the mail and instantly became obsessed with David Sedaris. When I discovered Tania took the poop story from this very book, I reread it and to my surprise actually found it quite amusing the second time around. David has a way with words that would make any writer envious. He writes so simple yet his stories are always engaging and always entertaining. Comic genius.

For the last couple of weeks Ive been struggling to keep my spirits up. Something mean recently happened to me and it’s just been hard to swallow. I’ve had no motivation to blog or to be around anyone because I’ve been consumed with all these negative thoughts swimming in my head. My best friend, knowing how much I love Sedaris, sent me some of his sound clips this evening. I instantly feel a million times more inspired. I am seeing him perform live in October. Can’t wait!

I posted 3 David Sedaris readings below. I highly recommended reading Me Talk Pretty One Day. Easily, one of the funniest books ever written.

Also, I added 3 Dave Chappelle jokes to the playlist. He’s an exceptional storyteller as well.

Hope u like

mer

Gold Digger in training

One week into my new job and I've already met a man who offered to pay for my gym membership, car payments, 4 Dave Matthews tickets, my recent car accident, and next quarter's tuition. He said I could take the money with no strings attached but lets face it, when it comes to money, there's always strings attached. Naturally, I said no and had no regrets. Then, this evening, while I was at work, guess who offers to buy me 4 front row tickets to Dave Chappelle? Each ticket cost like 200.00 but it would totally be worth it. I am a HUGE fan of Chappelle and dying to go to that show this weekend! As much as I wanted to say yes, I said so sorry but I cannot. I wonder what he'll offer me next?

Tool Time in Hotlanta

There are few places in this world (outside Corporate America) where a woman finds herself in a room outnumbered by men. There is China but it also takes about 2 days to get there and jet lag is a bitch. There's Saudi Arabia but I don't see a long line of women dying to go there. Then, there is East Andrews(www.eastandrews.com), an European-inspired cafe/bar located in the stylish boutique district of Buckhead's West Village. Live music accompanied by the peaceful sound of a waterfall fills a courtyard with good looking men and women. Sexy bartenders shake up extra strong concoctions which in turn, makes it easier to approach large crowds of boys hungry to play the flirtatious game. The only catch? The place is filled with tools.

When Chrissy and I strutted up to East Andrews around midnight, there was already a line wrapped around the corner. We waited near a red-carpeted entrance for about 15 minutes until a very impatient valley girl ran up to the line and demanded to be let in. 5 minutes later, Chrissy and I would be weaving in and out of men (and some women) dressed in very trendy garb. As Chrissy and I made our way to the bar, 2 unbelieving Global Warming Texans approached us and did their very best to impress. From bragging about being high school baseball coaches to attempting Bush comedy, the two men, dressed in oversized blazers, failed miserably at sustaining our attention. We walked away and strolled into a very muted light room. A man, looking identical to Horatio Sanz from SNL, immediately started hitting on Chrissy. He was extremely nice but just tried way too hard. After 5 minutes of bragging about his sister working for VH1 and Scott Bayo, Chrissy and I disappeared into the courtyard. Surrounded by Prada-clad gals and clean-cut chaps, we met 2 new boys, Mr. Shorty Short and Mr. Tooly Tim. In the course of our conversation, we met another man who would be sporting a flamboyant man purse. Mr. Man Purse claims he founded Nascar and owns about 1/3 of Atlanta. I wonder how many women that line works on?

Overall, East Andrews is fun if you are into people watching and something very chill. If you are looking for a date or someone to spend the rest of your life with, I would head somewhere else. Unless you are into tools. And then in that case, hammer away.

Next week, No Mas! (or maybe M lounge)
Loves,
mer

Beer's a bitch

The rebound girl never wins. Especially if the man she's dating just ended a 4 year relationship- with beer. Daniel loves beer so much he would sell his soul for just a sip. And naturally, I have it bad for him. At first I thought I had complete control over the situation. The bitch would pop up in discussion from time to time, dazzle his head with lustful thoughts for a minute or two, but for the most part, I was winning. And then last night, after literally 30 seconds of dog on dog action, she showers him with shame which causes him to force quit. AA meetings teach you to wait a year before getting into a relationship. Daniel waited 3 weeks. Evidentially, the bitch got to his head last night and stopped what very much could have been the best sex ever. I got the, it’s not you, it’s me” speech. I’ve never gotten this line before but I am certain it almost always means, really it’s your fault. Daniel thinks he’s too sick to get emotionally attached to anyone right now. He says I am too much of a temptation and although he wants me, “we” must be patient Naturally, it makes me want him more.

I am constantly finding myself with men dilemmas. I have a habit of falling in love with all the wrong men. Recently there was Mr.I Love Live Porn, dude. His thing is watching friends fuck his girl. However beautiful he may have been, that is a menu order I would never choose. Then who could forget Mr. Big, who NEVER wants to settle down, Mr. I love to pee on women and then fuck them, and of course, Mr. I am so beautiful lets spend the entire date talking about it. Freshly added to the list is Mr. I have an addiction and it’s not you. I know I should probably walk away, so says my head. My heart says I need to tough it out and put the bitch in her place. Plus, last night, my “number” increased. By a half. For nothing else, I need to finish what I started. Even if it means riding the rebound ride a little bit longer.

25 SIGNS YOU HAVE GROWN UP

With my birthday fast approaching, I am dreading getting older. At the end of September, I will be 27. Not looking forward to it at all. My friend sent me this list the other day and sadly, I answered yes to most of them.

1. Your houseplants are alive, and you can't smoke any of them.
2. Having s-x in a twin bed is out of the question.
3. You keep more food than beer in the fridge.
4. 6:00 AM is when you get up, not when you go to bed.
5. You hear your favorite song in an elevator.
6. You watch the Weather Channel.
7. Your friends marry and divorce instead of "hook up" and "break up."
8. You go from 130 days of vacation time to 14.
9. Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as "dressed up."
10. You're the one calling the police because those %&@# kids next door
won't turn down the stereo.
11. Older relatives feel comfortable telling s-x jokes around you.
12. You don't know what time Taco Bell closes anymore.
13. Your car insurance goes down and your car payments go up.
14. You feed your dog Science Diet instead of McDonald's leftovers.
15. Sleeping on the couch makes your back hurt
16. You can't take naps from noon to 6 PM anymore
17. Dinner and a movie is the whole date instead of the beginning of one.
18. Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset, rather
than settle, your stomach.
19. If you're a gal, you go to the drug store for ibuprofen and antacid, not
condoms and pregnancy tests.
20. A $4.00 bottle of wine is no longer "pretty good stuff."
21. You actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time
22. "I just can't drink the way I used to" replaces "I'm never going to
drink that much again."
23. 90% of the time you spend in front of a computer is for real work.
24. You drink at home to save money before going to a bar.
25. You read this entire list looking desperately for one sign that doesn't
apply to you and can't find one to save your sorry old butt.
BONUS: When you find out your friend is pregnant you congratulate them
instead of asking "Oh S*$# What Happened?"

Hotlanta gets Freaky

Often referred as the buckle of the Bible Belt, Atlanta is best known for her Gone with the Wind, Coca Cola, Hip-Hop, and one very poetic Blonde. Since 1965, Atlanta has been rocking out at the Clermont Lounge (www.clermontlounge.net). The legendary Blondie, a stripper known for crushing beer cans between her gargantuan, sagging rack, lures in spectators from all over the country. Located in the dingy basement of the Clermont Hotel (which is rented out by the hour), this notorious dive bar is home to half a dozen 40some (and some 70), seedy, heavily cellulited, aging strippers. There are even rumors that a couple of midgets have stripped at this joint at one time. Having only been there once before, Chrissy and I revisited this scandalous, squalid bar this past Friday evening. The first time we went, a man waiting by the hotel asked how much I was charging for sex. Apparently he thought I was a prostitute. I was hoping our second time there would be just as memorable. And it was.

Upon arriving, Chrissy and I walked straight to the bathroom where we met a 70 year old, white haired stripper wearing a Little Miss Riding Hood dress and blue eyelashes. She was lecturing another striper about STDs. “Never let toilet water splash your coochie.” Very educational. Little Miss Hood asked us if we wanted a dance. We kindly declined. After our field trip to the bathroom, we headed up to the cash only bar where we met Mr. Hunchback, an ex Clermont bouncer. In the course of the evening, Mr. Hunch shared multiple stories and secrets, secrets I could share but it would be more fun if you witnessed them first hand. He bragged about the different celebrities who party at the lounge when in town; everyone from Kid Rock and Marilyn Manson to Bubba Sparks, Chris Rock, and Outkast have played within the Clermont walls. The only downfall of the evening was when a very shady clown walked in. I am deadly scared of clowns so when I first saw the longhaired, red nose freak, I began to panic and almost broke into tears. Clowny didn’t stay very long, but long enough to tell that he was wearing flame covered contacts and had sawed down his teeth. Nasty.

So why visit the lounge? Other than being voted as one of the best dive bars in Atlanta by Maxim Magazine, the best bar in the county by Esquire, and recommended as the place to visit before you die by GQ, it is a staple in Atlanta history. Few other places have sustained Atlanta's attention quite like the Clermont. This lounge is really one of those places that you must see at least once, even if it is just for the mer shock value. Like Maxim says, “Clermont is, like aged spirits, appreciated by some but likely to make uninitiated eyes water.” Just don’t look anyone directly in the face and you'll be fine. And be very weary of the clown.

Damn! I wish I came up with this!

Since taking Paul's Branding class, I've been paying closer attention to car advertisements. My group is working on Audi and running into every problem you can think of. Today, as I was watching Tiger win another PGA title (honestly, cant someone else win for a change?), I saw this commercial. So simple and yet so amazingly good! I really wish our group came up with this. And if you listen to the song one of the lines goes-how much does it cost? I'll buy it- Genius. Now I suddenly have an urge to rush out and buy a Jeep. And they say subliminal messages don’t work. I beg to differ.

If I had a million dollars

We live in a world of extremes. Our culture screams more, more, more. The majority of rich people living in our country thrive on bling bling. I have comprised together a list of the most extravagant items you could buy if money was no object. Kinda sick when you stop and think about it- there are dying children who go for days without food but many rich people would rather spend their money on a Victoria's Secret diamond bra. Go fig.

If you were a millionaire, you could possibly buy...


















The most expensive house in America.
Three Ponds, Bridgehampton, N.Y.
$75 million
It has a U.S. Golf Association-rated golf course with its own pro shop, a 75-foot-long swimming pool with pavilion, grass tennis court, orangerie and three fish-stocked ponds, and 14 gardens.







a $30 Million bikini. The bikini features over 150 carats of D Flawless diamonds, including a 51 carat D Flawless Pear Shape, a 30 carat D Flawless Emerald Cut, a pair of 15 carat D Flawless Rounds and a pair of 8 carat D Flawless Pear Shapes all set in platinum.










How about a $1.6 million bed? It magnetically floats in thin air. Dutch architect Janjaap Ruijssenaars created this comfortable and alluring bed. The bed floats about 40 cm off the floor and can hold up to 900kg of weight. (I secreatly want one)









Nicknamed Le Million. This cell costs $1.3 mil

















$14,000 for a Tea Bag


















Tequila Ley, Platinum and White Gold, sells for $225,000 a bottle.






















For $1.5 Mil, you could buy Elton John for an evening
















Only $50,000










The Yalos Diamond LCD TV costs $130,000, but its really worth it. You see, the LCD TV is plated in white gold and encrusted with 20 carats worth of diamonds

Hotlanta finds fun in unexpected places.

Living in a city often referred to as Hotlanta, I question just how hot Atlanta really is. 20 years ago this town had nothing but a lot of greenery. Today, thanks to Donald trumping his way into Buckhead, the ATL is becoming a major Metropolitian player. However our night life, at times, is dwindling on boredom. Therefore, I have created a new weekly feature. With so many new restaurants, lounges, and clubs hitting the scene, I have decided to visit a new place every week and critique my experience. Tin Lizzy's will mark my first of many reviews.

Hidden on the corner of Roswell and Piedmont Road hosts one of Buckhead’s best-kept secrets, Tin Lizzy's (www.tinlizzyscantina.com). A very chill, cheap bar packs this intimate watering hole with good-looking people. Chrissy and I arrived Friday evening, a little before 11, just after her roommate made the recommendation. At first we had our reservations; Buckhead is known for entertaining a very young, very inexperience crowd. Pushing almost 27, I try to avoid all places in which the majority of drinkers are underage.

We found the place by pure luck, almost driving right past. Parking however did not come as easy. Forced to park and walk about a block away, we choked it up as just being able to savor in more alcohol. As we were entering Lizzie’s, 3 very good looking and tipsy men were walking out. They flirted with us, we flirted with them, and the evening started off great. Live music from a quant patio echoed inside as table of men watched Barry Bond on one of the 3 flat screen TVS. I discovered the best way to meet men is by standing by a flamboyant baby blue and pink jukebox pretending to pick out a song. In the course of about 25 minutes, a tall dirty blond with piercing blues, a charming brunette with adorable dimples, and a salt-and pepper cowboy that proved age is always kinder to men than women approached me.

By 1, everyone had pretty much cleared out, making this place a great place to pre-drink. Instead of eating dinner, Chrissie and I went straight to the $15 pitcher of margaritas. However, after speaking to many regulars, Tin Lizzy’s has a killer Mexican menu. Supposedly, this little cantina marks one of the best in Atlanta. And an extra plus, it’s dirt cheap

Overall, if you are looking for a chill, laid back evening, perhaps a place to also meet good-looking people, I recommend Tin Lizzy’s. And with all that walking you will do to and from the car, imagine how much more you can drink.

Pros: Small place makes for cheap drinks, cheap dates, and a high chance of scoring more
Cons: Although I didnt eat here, I did glance at the menu. TL charges for chips and salsa. Not cool, TL. Not cool at all.


Grade= C, as in Could be better but fun all the same

So Sweet

I am having 2 extremely wretched weeks. Without getting into specifics as of yet, let's just say everything bad that could possibly happen, happened. And just when I thought I would break down at work from all my new found stress, my friend sends me these pictures and totally brightens up my day. Meet 'Heart-kun', a Chihuahua puppy who has been born with a perfect heart-shaped pattern in his fur. The breeder, from Japan, has never seen a similar mark on any of the 1000 pups she has bred in the past. The Chihuahua was born in May. So sweet.

The world is filled with stupid people

8 unfortunately placed ads

Dont mess with Karma

When my best friend suggested we watch Unfaithful the night it was released, I couldn’t be more excited. It had everything I wanted in a movie- Diane Lane, who in my opinion, is the epitome of classiness, Richard Gere, whose been one of my favorite leading men ever since his Pretty Woman days, and one very beautiful Oliver Martinez. Sitting in the packed theater, sandwiched in between my best friend and a very large, overweight man who spilled into my seat, I was completely uncomfortable. I think it was the moment when a very distraught Richard Gere bashed Oliver’s head in with a snow globe that I officially checked out. However, America went crazy over the flick and gave out Oscars nominations for Best Film, Actor and Actress. That is the funny thing about our country- we love good drama, especially when it comes to the matter of the broken heart. This country was built upon scandals and we live for them. I think we can all easily remember the day Jen and Brad broke up. It was the same week the war started but people were way more invested in Brad dumping Jenn.

All I Really Need To Know I Learned from Blog

Corporate America may have some advantages- free health care, free weekends, decent paychecks, but for the most part, working for Her is execrable. I dread coming to work every morning, knowing that while I am here I am dying of boredom. Thank God for the Internet and the ability to Google away some of my lassitude. Over the course of 5 years, I have done some intensive web-searching in hopes of finding anything more stimulating and more entertaining than calling on existing IBM clients. I have compiled a list of 5 of the best blogs that I think are worth taking a look at.

1. The Stone's Colossal Dream (thestonescolossaldream.blogspot.com/) Tania is one of the most talented writers ever. Her blog is nothing short of stellar. Extremely funny, always entertaining, and always brilliantly written.

2. Augusten's Blog (augusten.com/blog/) After reading Running with Scissors I became obsessed with Augusten Burroughs. He has a David Sedaris quality about him, very dry sense of humor in a very engaging manner. Augusten does not always update his blog in a timely manner, however it is worth the wait. Rather he is mocking the advertising world, dishing out his manic love life, or reminiscing on his alcoholic days as a successful copywriter, Augusten's work is always captivating.

3. Design Sponge (designsponge.blogspot.com/) Such a fun site dedicated solely to design. Rather you're a fashion lover, a design lover, a trendsetter, or an art lover, this site offers many must see pages. There are plenty of things to look at and even a chance to win a scholarship. A must see for anyone passionate about design (or anyone who just likes to look at pretty things)

4. Snark Hunting (snarkhunting.com/) A creative, branding blog. Stuck on a name for a new product? This blog even helps with that. A lot of great resources for creative folks.

4.5. AdGoodness (frederiksamuel.com/blog/) Ads from all over the world. Even tells what agencies came up with the ads.

5. Confessional Highway (.confessionalhighway.blogspot.com/) Deezee always delivers really funny essays on life and is a very smart, entertaining writer. I have been a fan of this blog since May 2006 and followed Deezee through crazy holiday stories, classic relationship struggles, and the constant search in the meaning of life. This blog is almost as good as Tonia's :)

Happy blogging!

Cheers!

mer

A very tipsey holiday

Why is it that as we grow older, we also become more high maintenance? We are choosier about who we associate with, obsessed with appearance, and sometimes try to pretend we are something we are not. And yet, it takes a lot to satisfy us adults, whereas children are happy the majority of the time. Think about it- as a child you don’t care if your friends are white, black, fat, thin. All you care about is if they can make you laugh and if they are fun to be around. It is not until someone (usually older) advises to stay away from “so-and so” because either they are bad or poor or not popular enough that we began to judge our friends more closely. Although we grow more mature the older we become, is maturity always better? Children are so fearless, rather it’s climbing the highest monkey bars without anticipation, without worry they might fall and scrape their knees, or picking up a nasty bug on the playground, or dance in public until their heart is contact. As adults, we become weary of taking such risks, choose the safe, reliable road instead of the more cautious yet perhaps more fun one. We, (and by “we” I mean “I”)become shy and timid to talk to strangers unless alcohol is involved. I for one have built myself many walls because I am scared of rejection and being judged, so to speak. But, who cares about growing wiser and more mature if maturity only leaves behind a lifetime of fear?

2 days ago, of the copywriters joined fellow PC students in celebrating Independence Day. At first I was a little timid in leaving my comfort zone and mingling with the designers. At school, typically designers hang with designers, copywriters hang with copywriters, and illustrators hang with illustrators. Funny how 2 empty kegs later everyone acts like best friends. Why can’t everyone just be cool all the time? I know for me, I have had so much tragedy happen in my life that I choose to personify a party girl image, keeping the most private and intimate moments to myself and a very select few. Life experiences have taught me to keep my distance from the majority of people and not to let people in to the “real” me. I know it’s sad but such is life. This evening I know I’ll go to school and I am sure I’ll by shy to say hello to some people I was cool with yesterday. We probably won’t talk again until the next party, when everyone is all boozed up again. It’s kinda funny in a messed up way. It makes me think of a very famous quote said by a very famous, wise man, “Alcohol, the cause and solution to all of life's problems”. Touche.

loves,

mer

It's official!

The four women who spiced up Manhattan's singles scene for six years are def headed for a big-screen reunion after all. On Thursday, July 5, 2007, New Line Cinema, a corporate sibling of HBO sealed the final deal to finance and distribute the long-stalled picture. The project is set to begin shooting in the fall. Longtime series executive producer Michael Patrick King will direct the film from his own script and serve as producer, along with Parker and series creator Darren Star.

The movie presumably would arrive in theaters sometime next year.
Yea to Kim and Cynthia who couldn't find any other work and missed receiving a paycheck and therefore had no other choice but to make Sex into a movie!

Very strange

So it's Monday morning and I am sitting in my Corporate America cube drinking Starbucks and reading the news when I come across shocking piece of information:

Bart Simpson will be getting naked in the new Simpson feature film. And by naked, we mean full frontal nudity. Bart’s bare essentials are cleverly concealed by strategically-placed props until a gap in some hedges reveals his naughty bits, as the Brits say. Simpson's creator Matt Groening spoke to the crowd and noted that he expects the brief cartoon nudity and certain digs at politics and religion to raise objections, but pointed out that part of the series’ appeal is its willingness to go out on those limbs and offend the easily offended.

If this were a normal film and a child actor (who is about 8 years old) showed his thing, the movie would not get a PG rating. Is it okay to look at little boy's boyhood just because it’s animated?

Hmmmmm. Something to think about.

Tragic but true

Now some may disagree with my love for Perez but the man is hysterical. He is my guilty pleasure and without his blog I may have no other choice but to actually work at my Corporate America job- now where's the fun in that? I actually have tried to ween myself off of him but I just cant do it. My day consists of coming into work 30 minutes late, Checking Perez, reading Fox News while drinking Starbucks, checking Perez again, making a couple dials to some of my IBM accounts, checking Perez before taking a 2 hour lunch, check email, play on youtube, read Tania's blog, call on a couple more accounts, then end the day with Perez. Right before i left for lunch I read this on Perez. Say what you want about him but what he says about Brit Brit is harsh but true. Tragic, but it is all true.

Look at her.
She just doesn’t care!
While most young mothers of two children would stay home on a Monday night, Britney is not like most.
While most working women attempting a comeback after having kids would stay in and focus on their career, Spears just doesn’t give a damn.
While most recovering addicts would stay away from bars, Britney’s already been reported to be drinking again and hitting the clubs.
While most any normal female would never wear an outfit like that, Spears wants to look like a prostitute.
While most healthy adults have friends and family that tell them what they should here, Britney surrounds herself with paid friends and professional relatives, like cousin Alli, who joined her while partying at Club Joseph’s on Monday.
This crazy bitch rules!!!!
Don’t ever expect her to change her ways.
Trashy Brit to the end!!!!

loves mer

A very Special birthday

Conniving up creative, revengeful and merciless way to destroy someone’s life is an art, an ability not everyone can achieve, or so the Sopranos and the Godfather would like us to believe. It can take months, sometimes years, to plan the perfect, ruthless antidote. Growing up with a Sicilian mother I quickly became acquainted with the mafia. When my family gets together for holidays, our stories do not consist of those sweet, heartfelt, tearjerker memories. Instead, we sit around drinking bottles of vino and stuffing our mouths with cannolis while my cousins glorify my grandfather, boasting details about his days working and revenging against Al Capone. I try to ask my mother for details of my grandfather’s life, anything that would give me sufficient bragging rights. But the only thing I can get out of my mother is, “Forget about it. Not worth talking about.”

When I called to wish my friend, Sherry, a happy 25, I anticipated loud, piercing screams streaming through my Razor. Upon dialing, I could already hear the obnoxious bragging about her “blinding and very expensive” engagement ring she so sure was getting the evening before. 2 months prior, Seann, Sherry’s boyfriend of 7 years, walked in to find Sherry and another man performing similar scenes from A Night in Paris. Apologies were made and forgiveness was given almost immediately. All of her friends, me included, never really gave it a second thought considering we all know how “special” Seann is. And by “special” I mean really, really dumb.

At the age of 15, Seann’s father died leaving Seann millions in trust funds. Seann was not supposed to receive a penny until the ripe age of 30. The weekend before Sherry turned 25, she receives a call from dumbass himself.

Seann: Yo! So I was all talking to my mother today? And she was all, dude, you have been working really hard lately and its about time you cash in those trust funds. So, babe I was thinking for your birthday we should totally celebrate or whatever.

Sherry: OH MY GOD BABY! Are you serious?

Seann: Yea, so I was thinking? Maybe you should let me plan your birthday dinner or whatever. I’ve already got a baby blue box ready for you.

Sherry (in a very squeaky voice, you know, the voice only dogs can understand): OH MY GOD!? Really?

Seann: So like you should dress really, really nice or whatever.

Of course, Sherry calls me 2 minutes after totally freaking out. The whole time all I can think is, WTF? A girl cheats on her boyfriend and she still gets Tiffany’s? Where the hell is the justice?
Turns out justice can be found conveniently in Atlanta’s Blue Point. They arrive at the restaurant at 7:30 and sit down in the back. Seann tells her, “Babe, this is my birthday gift to you so I'll take care of the ordering this evening.” In the course of the night Seann orders one bottle of Crystal, 4 tequila shots, three Jack and Cokes, and two very strong Cosmos. They share 2 orders of Sushi rolls, calamari (which is my favorite thing on the menu), 2 Fillet Minions, and desert. Just as they are about to finish, Seann grabs Sherry’s hand and says, “I need to ask you something very important.” He reaches in his coat breast pocket but pulls out empty handed. “Fuck. I left my present in the car. I’ll be 2 seconds.” He runs out of the restaurant to which Sherry tipsy text messages me, “He abot 2 aks me.” She takes lipstick and coats her lips with a dab of shine at the same time the waiter drops off a baby blue box. Inside a note is discovered, “You like getting fucked bitch?”

Mortified Sherry gasps so loudly everyone begins to stare. She looks around and since Seann is no where to be seen, calls his cell. It rings once followed by his voicemail. “You like to get fucked, don’t you bitch! Thanks for the dinner. Happy birthday slutty.” Beeeeep. Sherry resorts back to 5 years old, sobbing uncontrollably and very, very loudly. She calls again. Voicemail comes on after the first ring, again. “Are you crying bitch? Are you fucking kidding me? You wasnt crying that night you fucked Jason? Stop your fucking crying sluttina. So pathetic. And yo, if this is anyone else calling, ya like just leave a message and I’ll call you back or whatever.” Beeeeep.

The dinner only came to like $3 or $400.00 but the memory is priceless. I am so proud of my Seann. I would never believe he could do something so creative, so conniving, let alone keep it a secret for 2 months. Whenever I ask about that evening, Seann just smiles coyly and says, “Forget about it.”

Loves!
mer

Just another reason why not to vote for Hillary

just awful!