A long time ago (not nearly long enough), I was dating a total trainwreck of a boy. I say boy because he was no man. For the record, age wise, he was perfectly legal. While I dated this anomaly, for reasons I won't get into, I thought I was in love. Perhaps I was but that's a story for another time. During the course of this "relationship" we never made things official and he was also dating someone he met the first time we officially went out. I still don't know if it was a date or not, so I could have never been mad that he was talking to another girl. Surely at that time I had no interest in dating him. He didn't tell me about this for maybe a month or so after.
Some time after that when we were on an infamous break, I bumped into the two of them at a local bar. It was a really stupid move on his part, and maybe he wanted to get caught, but he knew I went there a lot because I worked down the block. Like any self respecting female, I immediately lurked her on Facebook. I wasn't threatened but I wondered if she knew about me and what he said to her about me. Things progressed and eventually she faded from the picture. He thought she might have been a lesbian anyway. (I know, trust me... I know. You don't even need to say it.) Getting to the point, he told me this story about how she never wanted him to come into her job and how weird that was.
Flash forward two years later...
I'm at this very place where she worked and my friend asks, "do you think she still works here?" "Probably not. That was two years ago. I doubt it. A lot can happen in two years." I do my shopping, I pick my nice little wrapping paper out and get my supplies, etc. The three of us are on line and as I'm called down to #4, well, there she is. My boyfriend's girlfriend, snaggletooth and all. If I didn't think he was a shit human, I'd have sent him a text about how funny this was, but I'll never lower myself to even breathe in his direction again.
Once again... only to me. This one was low on the "Only to Me" scale compared to other installments, but nonetheless, only to me.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Only to me... Episode 1
File this under the weird things that only happen to me:
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Charming is the New Manipulative
Ladies and Gentlemen, readers alike... let me tell you why I've discovered why charming is the new manipulative. Yes I'm aware that as of late, if you've been around me, you may have noticed I'm describing whatever I can as "the new black" (really though, asses are the new black... no longer is it all about the t's, the a is getting it's 15 minutes) but I assure you this phase will pass. This time it's a legit thing.
Anyway, after someone had recently described themselves to me as charming, I started thinking about what charming really means, especially when it's coming from a man. Well, frankly... charming is a kinder word for manipulative. Think about every charming person, male OR female, that you've ever met. How has it ended? Not very well, I'm sure. You probably got sucked into a lot of things you wouldn't think you'd do. You maybe put up with a lot of shit you didn't want to, making excuses. This is not just coming from personal experience but having working eyes and ears. People are scummy. (Yes, I am in a particularly disgruntled mood lately and yes, my trust/faith in people is dwindling hard.... but I still remain pleasant about many things in my life!)
So think about these "charming people." Remember any and all stories where someone has described another person as charming. It's a huge red flag. Charming>charmer>charm... a snake charmer... what do they do? They play a song and get the snake completely under their control. While the person being charmed may not the the snake, this concept still applies. Said charming person plays their little sweet song rendering us relatively incapable.
Charismatic... well, I think that's a different story. Sometimes I've heard people relate the two, but charismatic has a much less scummy ring to it. Recently, a friend told me a story about a person described as very charming who also turned out to be a manipulator and turned their back on someone after leading them on. The said manipulated person ended up in a really bad situation. While you should know better after a certain point, she was completely charmed into hope that things would change and clueless as to the charmer's many indiscretions.
Nothing good has ever come, personally, from someone I've met who was described as charming. I finally put this together recently. Thankfully I saw the red flag and came to this conclusion before I got myself into a lot of hot water. Yet somehow, being a single person in an enormous city, knowing this is a big one on the red flag scale, makes me kind of depressed. I'm alright with being single. I have good things elsewhere in my life to keep me from being sad over this at a constant, but just knowing that another huge obstacle is out there makes me exhausted and upset by the prospect of a life alone, or, worse, with a shitbag husband/boyfriend.
So, avoid charming people. No matter how cute they are or how much you have in common or how compatible you think you are. It's probably an act. Sorry, but you might thank me at some point.
Anyway, after someone had recently described themselves to me as charming, I started thinking about what charming really means, especially when it's coming from a man. Well, frankly... charming is a kinder word for manipulative. Think about every charming person, male OR female, that you've ever met. How has it ended? Not very well, I'm sure. You probably got sucked into a lot of things you wouldn't think you'd do. You maybe put up with a lot of shit you didn't want to, making excuses. This is not just coming from personal experience but having working eyes and ears. People are scummy. (Yes, I am in a particularly disgruntled mood lately and yes, my trust/faith in people is dwindling hard.... but I still remain pleasant about many things in my life!)
So think about these "charming people." Remember any and all stories where someone has described another person as charming. It's a huge red flag. Charming>charmer>charm... a snake charmer... what do they do? They play a song and get the snake completely under their control. While the person being charmed may not the the snake, this concept still applies. Said charming person plays their little sweet song rendering us relatively incapable.
Charismatic... well, I think that's a different story. Sometimes I've heard people relate the two, but charismatic has a much less scummy ring to it. Recently, a friend told me a story about a person described as very charming who also turned out to be a manipulator and turned their back on someone after leading them on. The said manipulated person ended up in a really bad situation. While you should know better after a certain point, she was completely charmed into hope that things would change and clueless as to the charmer's many indiscretions.
Nothing good has ever come, personally, from someone I've met who was described as charming. I finally put this together recently. Thankfully I saw the red flag and came to this conclusion before I got myself into a lot of hot water. Yet somehow, being a single person in an enormous city, knowing this is a big one on the red flag scale, makes me kind of depressed. I'm alright with being single. I have good things elsewhere in my life to keep me from being sad over this at a constant, but just knowing that another huge obstacle is out there makes me exhausted and upset by the prospect of a life alone, or, worse, with a shitbag husband/boyfriend.
So, avoid charming people. No matter how cute they are or how much you have in common or how compatible you think you are. It's probably an act. Sorry, but you might thank me at some point.
Friday, October 28, 2011
I'm back
I've been pretty busy lately but other then my run in at Citibank, few crazy things have happened recently.
My latest incident occurred at a Citibank while I was making a deposit for work. I stood on line behind this visibly not sound of mind man. He kept taking a ticket stub out of his pocket, studying it, then putting it back into his pocket only to remove it and repeat. He never really looked like he was on line, so the three or so people behind me and the three or so ahead of him all looked a bit confused, the former more than the latter. I smelled the crazy all over him, so I pulled out my usual stops: avoid eye contact, avoid being caught staring, nervously fidget with Blackberry as you try to avoid said crazy. Of course, within minutes of this charade he turns to me and says, "Is that him? I think that's him!" He proceeds to wave and smile. "At what?," you wonder? A picture of a baby in a Citibank ad. He then proceeds to tell me that he loves babies so much. As he's called to his appropriate window he is still staring at me. I hear the bank teller asking him where his deposit is and if he is even a member of the bank, but I eventually lose focus on the conversation as I make my own transaction. When I leave, he's still watching me, but thankfully he doesn't follow me to Food Emporium on my next errand.
Why are they always drawn to me? WHY?
My latest incident occurred at a Citibank while I was making a deposit for work. I stood on line behind this visibly not sound of mind man. He kept taking a ticket stub out of his pocket, studying it, then putting it back into his pocket only to remove it and repeat. He never really looked like he was on line, so the three or so people behind me and the three or so ahead of him all looked a bit confused, the former more than the latter. I smelled the crazy all over him, so I pulled out my usual stops: avoid eye contact, avoid being caught staring, nervously fidget with Blackberry as you try to avoid said crazy. Of course, within minutes of this charade he turns to me and says, "Is that him? I think that's him!" He proceeds to wave and smile. "At what?," you wonder? A picture of a baby in a Citibank ad. He then proceeds to tell me that he loves babies so much. As he's called to his appropriate window he is still staring at me. I hear the bank teller asking him where his deposit is and if he is even a member of the bank, but I eventually lose focus on the conversation as I make my own transaction. When I leave, he's still watching me, but thankfully he doesn't follow me to Food Emporium on my next errand.
Why are they always drawn to me? WHY?
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Stage One, Sub One C:
Read Missed Connections and think every vague post, or one around his age range/neighborhood, is written by him.
An open letter to Missed Connections
Dear Missed Connections,
You used to be funny. Every now and then, in a sea of people searching for one another, you'd have a well written, gut busting post by someone who either had a very good sense of humor or was out of their mind. Whether the latter or the former, I love it! Lately though, you've not been living up to the standard you set. Every post is a bunch of vague drivel about "I still miss you" chain posts, or "You were on the train. I winked. Email me." Once upon a time people were posting missed connections with homeless men on the subway and how enchanted they were with their urine stream and the deep connection felt upon eye contact shortly before said homeless man hurled everywhere.*
Frequently, I give up on you. Someone always brings me back and then I read every day. This has seen me through break ups, good times, bad times, and even lead to my own missed connection (it was great! thanks for that!). Sometimes, you've even helped me realize that the relationship I'm in is crap. Lately though, with your lack of amusing posts, all I can do is concentrate on my recent male loss. Every time I see a post in his age range or neighborhood or on a train he rides, my stomach just knots itself up and panic hits. Perhaps I should stop reading, but as you know, you are internet crack.
It's summer time, isn't everyone supposed to be all horny and loopy and writing crazy things? The best you have done for me is this guy, writing poetry that makes me envious, and does not repress my sadness. Who are you, 6? Whoever you are, I know you are (unfortunately?) not looking for me. Anyway, my request is simple, Missed Connections - send me your love stoned, your wacky, your cynical, longing masses... hell, I'll even take some excessive and hilarious grammar and spelling mistakes. Just gimme something. I neeeed it!
Missed Connections, it's time we reconnect.
With Love,
Nic
PS- Maybe you could also post a tutorial for those who provide your constituents. Someone needs to point out that by posting an age (which most onlookers do not guess accurately or know), a vague location (yes, we all love Brooklyn or the F train - whatever) and no detail of what you look like or what happened or were wearing, they will never connect with anyone. Thanks again. xoxo
PPS- I know your parent, Craig's List, has had some incidents with killers and psychopaths lately, but do I really need to give you my phone number if I should ever feel so inclined to write back to one of these jokers, or even write my own missed connection? Unnecessary. I am not a computer, spamming you, so one of those little letter, number, caps lock tests will be just fine. Getting a phone number from someone does not prevent certain tragedy. If history has taught us anything it's that some verrry intelligent people are insane, but not all insane people are very intelligent. Alas, I digress. Your policy sucks. That is all. The end. Promise.
*Yes, this encounter with the homeless man was an actual missed connection I once read and will never, ever forget. It was Craig's List GOLD.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
missed... rather, ignored, connections?
I think I had a missed connection with a cab driver today over Frightened Rabbit. Maybe I just ignored it, but suddenly the cab became electrified with some kind of whatever. Maybe I should take more chances. How often do you bump into a young, cute cab driver with good taste in music? I could have just asked him, instead of googling, who the song was by... but I'm a wimp and I was pissed off about work. Story of my life.
It was a mixed CD that was playing. I could tell because it kept skipping and at one point Eddie Vedder was stuck on the same note. Somehow that made him more attractive. Who made him that CD? Did he make it himself? I was intrigued... fascinated... and went home thinking about the cab driver who got away for the rest of the night. I'll probably still be telling this story by the weekend.
OH, LIFE! Just when everything is stagnant, a little wind comes and gets things moving, if only for a moment. Annnnd now I'm going to go download every Frightened Rabbit thing I can get my hands on. Thanks, guy!
It was a mixed CD that was playing. I could tell because it kept skipping and at one point Eddie Vedder was stuck on the same note. Somehow that made him more attractive. Who made him that CD? Did he make it himself? I was intrigued... fascinated... and went home thinking about the cab driver who got away for the rest of the night. I'll probably still be telling this story by the weekend.
OH, LIFE! Just when everything is stagnant, a little wind comes and gets things moving, if only for a moment. Annnnd now I'm going to go download every Frightened Rabbit thing I can get my hands on. Thanks, guy!
Friday, May 20, 2011
when denim jumpsuits attack
Every now and then as I'm clothes shopping, something truly hideous appears and I just can't keep my mouth shut about it. I present to you... Boom Boom Jeans "Denim Tank Jumpsuit".
Lindsey and I have discussed this one to extreme lengths... basically the overall question is WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH THIS THING?
Who is wearing this?! Now, maybe my taste isn't the best. I make mistakes sometimes (like when I thought wearing my HS uniform skirt was cute - it wasn't. Thankfully, I was 16 and "punk"), everyone does. But... who is buying this thing and why? I'd like to meet them and figure out what about this monstrosity is attractive to them. This could turn into a minor sociological experiment. What is the mind like of the person who wants to wear this?
Ok enough serious talk, let's get to deconstructing the hideousness of this thing.
-How do you pee in this? You'd have to unbutton the whole top, pull the whole thing down and go. Then pull it back up, button it up and repeat EVERY TIME you have to go to the bathroom. If you drink, forget it. You're pissing your pants... err... jumpsuit.
-What's up with the strategic seaming that looks like an underwire bra? It's doing horrible things for the model's boobs, and I'm guessing will do worse for the average consumer of a denim tank jumpsuit. Let's face it... there are some ugly tits out there. Gisele couldn't even make this thing look good.
-How does she not have a camel toe? (excellent point Lindsey. You get full credit for this observation). It's hard enough to buy jeans if you're a woman but when you combine jeans and a tank into one piece, how does everything work out to NOT have denim all up in your area? Not a good look, on anyone.
-Now, I can't give you a view of the back thanks to shitty linking, or just not being able to figure it out, but it has pockets... and belt loops. WHY DO YOU NEED A BELT IF YOUR PANTS ARE ATTACHED TO YOUR SHIRT????
Ok I think I've covered all bases... but I clearly have some issues with this thing. It's just so... wrong. It's fucking wrong. oh aww keep your hands in your pockets. You're just making it look like you're wearing two separate pieces, but we know you're not. That's a one piece, baby... and it's nasty. It might even be the ultimate in Canadian Tuxedos.
Lindsey asked a guy for his opinion. Let's see what he said:
"that's an abomination in the eyes of the lord
and in mine
and hopefully everyone elses
tell me people don't wear that
TELL ME
THEY DON'T
WEAR THAT"*
Boom Boom Jeans... if there is an apocalypse tomorrow**, the designer of this is going to be one of the first to go, just for creating this thing. I can't... I just can't.
Thank you and goodnight.
*John Redsaw, ladies and gentlemen.
**There better not be an apocalypse tomorrow, I'm enjoying my life too much, even after seeing this thing.
POST SCRIPT
If you are actually interested, this monster goes for $68.50. $68.50 is all it takes for you to look like a tacky piece who should be selling your body at Hunts Point. I'll keep my $68.50, thank you, blow it all on Rod Serling bios, nail polish, and yarn. Although, it is fun to think about my friends and I simultaneously wearing this beast and acting dumb. THEN AND ONLY THEN... then and only then.
Lindsey and I have discussed this one to extreme lengths... basically the overall question is WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH THIS THING?
Who is wearing this?! Now, maybe my taste isn't the best. I make mistakes sometimes (like when I thought wearing my HS uniform skirt was cute - it wasn't. Thankfully, I was 16 and "punk"), everyone does. But... who is buying this thing and why? I'd like to meet them and figure out what about this monstrosity is attractive to them. This could turn into a minor sociological experiment. What is the mind like of the person who wants to wear this?
Ok enough serious talk, let's get to deconstructing the hideousness of this thing.
-How do you pee in this? You'd have to unbutton the whole top, pull the whole thing down and go. Then pull it back up, button it up and repeat EVERY TIME you have to go to the bathroom. If you drink, forget it. You're pissing your pants... err... jumpsuit.
-What's up with the strategic seaming that looks like an underwire bra? It's doing horrible things for the model's boobs, and I'm guessing will do worse for the average consumer of a denim tank jumpsuit. Let's face it... there are some ugly tits out there. Gisele couldn't even make this thing look good.
-How does she not have a camel toe? (excellent point Lindsey. You get full credit for this observation). It's hard enough to buy jeans if you're a woman but when you combine jeans and a tank into one piece, how does everything work out to NOT have denim all up in your area? Not a good look, on anyone.
-Now, I can't give you a view of the back thanks to shitty linking, or just not being able to figure it out, but it has pockets... and belt loops. WHY DO YOU NEED A BELT IF YOUR PANTS ARE ATTACHED TO YOUR SHIRT????
Ok I think I've covered all bases... but I clearly have some issues with this thing. It's just so... wrong. It's fucking wrong. oh aww keep your hands in your pockets. You're just making it look like you're wearing two separate pieces, but we know you're not. That's a one piece, baby... and it's nasty. It might even be the ultimate in Canadian Tuxedos.
Lindsey asked a guy for his opinion. Let's see what he said:
"that's an abomination in the eyes of the lord
and in mine
and hopefully everyone elses
tell me people don't wear that
TELL ME
THEY DON'T
WEAR THAT"*
Boom Boom Jeans... if there is an apocalypse tomorrow**, the designer of this is going to be one of the first to go, just for creating this thing. I can't... I just can't.
Thank you and goodnight.
*John Redsaw, ladies and gentlemen.
**There better not be an apocalypse tomorrow, I'm enjoying my life too much, even after seeing this thing.
POST SCRIPT
If you are actually interested, this monster goes for $68.50. $68.50 is all it takes for you to look like a tacky piece who should be selling your body at Hunts Point. I'll keep my $68.50, thank you, blow it all on Rod Serling bios, nail polish, and yarn. Although, it is fun to think about my friends and I simultaneously wearing this beast and acting dumb. THEN AND ONLY THEN... then and only then.
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