Welcome to New York

Yesterday evening I arrived in NYC to spend the weekend with my college roommate PR, her Italian roommate and best friend from childhood Italiano, and several other friends from around the world. Literally since the moment I set foot inside the city, it has been a nonstop adventure.

Before we (meaning Italiano’s friend from Washington DC AnnoyingPint and me) got to PR and Italiano’s place we got to experience the lovely traffic at the Holland Tunnel caused by “police activity”. Code for someone pulled out his/her piece in the tunnel and played target practice. Minor details in the grand scheme of things.

To start the evening off we ordered in and had Limoncello. Delicious. After a while we put on our New York City black, decked ourselves out and made our way into the night. 2 taxi rides and a subway ride later we found ourselves at an unmarked club in Chinatown. Immediately the door lady said, ” No no no. I can’t let you in. Too many people and you don’t have a reservation.” After standing outside for 15 minutes and at the European diligence of Italiano, we got in.

Sweet Jesus. Walking in was like going back to Europe. I instantly died inside. The smell. The people. The greetings (kiss on each cheek). God I missed it!  PR and I ordered drinks, of which the bartender have to us for free, and we danced the night away like Europeans.*

I few friends come in and out throughout the evening. We had 3 friends from Mexico and 2 from Germany. The one from Germany was very cute. 25/26 years old. Very aryan. He now lives in London. Does something with banking. Either way, he blessed me with for the evening with one of my favorite European traditions–the open stare.** I miss it so so much but when Americans do it, it’s creepy.
The Germans bought us a few drinks and a shot. All very mint flavored and mildly fruity. My stomach will not be thanking me later. We were dancing up a storm to a delightful club mix and then my night was made. They played “One” by Swedish House Mafia.

Around 0330 we made our way back to our place. Once inside our home we quickly changed into pajamas, put a pizza in the oven, and reminisced about Europe. I miss the culture more than anything. The food, the drinks, the love of the people, the openness.

That’s it I need to move outside of the US.

*If you’ve never had the pleasure of dancing Europe, you should give it ago. Unlike America where people feel the need to openly have sex on the dance floor, Europeans have a dance bubble. I have my dance bubble. You have yours. We don’t touch for the most part. It’s all about you and the music. The confidence you have with your body and the way it moves to the thriving beat. I love it.

**In Europe, it is openly acceptable for men to stare at you for however long he feels inclined to and check you out. This is done in broad daylight on a city street, in the evening in the club and anywhere else in between.


Wounded Warriors


The Virginia Military Institute is doing a fundraising event for the Wounded Warriors Project called “Pullups for Patriots”. Click on the link above and sponsor on of the guys please. They are all VMI cadets. There is at least 1 veteran on the list with 2 deployments under his belt. And most of them are commissioning in the military on May 15th.

Please help support the men and women who gave their lives for your freedom.

(Side note: Mr. Soup and Mr. Breadstick are both on the list if that helps motivate any of you.)

Breaking Up

One of my biggest pet peeves is when you tell me you are going to do something and you don’t actually follow through with it. This is happened to me twice this weekend.

As I previously wrote Ms. Ineedacheeseburger and Mr. Breadstick had split sighting religious differences. Well they got back together to “work things out” on Easter. Here’s the deal. Ms. Ineedacheeseburger is an Eastern Orthodox Catholic. Mr. Breadstick is either Baptist or Methodist (I can’t recall). So there are some difference in the way the Christian religion is practiced between the two. What their argument boiled down to is Ms. Ineedacheeseburger wants their children (if they get married and have them) to be raised like she was and Mr. Breadstick disagrees.

Now speaking from experience, this is an issue that Pig and I had. He was Catholic and I am a Southern Baptist. We did the same thing. We talked about our differences of practice and tried to gain a basic understanding of each other’s religions. Blah blah blah. So on and so forth. But in the end it came down to him wanting our children to be Catholic and I didn’t. It was one of the reasons we parted ways. Hindsight is 20-20, I know, but looking back Pig and I held on to a failing relationship for longer than we should have simply because we didn’t want to admit that our religious differences were a deal breaker. Sadly, I believe that this is what Mr. Breadstick and Ms. Ineedacheeseburger are doing as well. Nevertheless, time will tell and they will both learn something about themselves in the end.

As Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers pointed out to me, Patti Stanger says, “Religion…is a deal-breaker. Can’t take a Jew and mix it with a Baptist. Not gonna make it happen in a million years.”

The second split of the weekend that turned out to hold no water was between Mr. Delicious and TF. This relationship is honestly worse than beating a dead horse. I mean really. They have been over their issues time and time again and yet they still keep riding a quickly sinking ship. I don’t really get it. Why would you waste your time? Either way, Mr. Delicious told me on Thursday that TF punched him five times (closed fist) because she is has PMS. She demanded a massage  and then claimed Mr. Delicious was hurting her, which I can personally say that Mr. Delicious gives excellent massages, so that cannot possibly be true. Fucking ridiculous. This is not the first time she has hit him either. Personally, if he hit her back, I wouldn’t blame him one bit. Whatever. They apparently worked it out and spent Easter together.

Either way, I believe both of these relationships are complete horseshit and they need to end.  Learn something about yourself. Move on. Unfortunately, they can see what I see because they are blinded by “love”. But I can promise you when the bottom does fall out, I’ll be there to help pick up the pieces.


Yesterday I arrived at Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers’ house.  We enjoyed a wonderful afternoon of laying on the sofas and catching up on the latest points of our lives. Around midnight or so, we called it quits and made off to our rooms for some quality sleep.

I hopped in the shower and did my usual routine to get ready for bed. Brushing my teeth. Starring at myself in the mirror. The norm. As I’m doing this I get a text. I look down and surprise!  I have three messages. One from my beloved Sunshine. Standard Golden Girls quotes for the evening.

One from Mr. Soup, which is oddly hilarious because I had just finished telling Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers that he wouldn’t talk to me. Well he started the conversation with a simple “Hey. How are you?” Blah blah blah. Life is fine. I ended it by falling asleep before he had a chance to respond. Nevertheless, his response was basically blah blah blah things are ok. Things aren’t going well at home. Lovely. I fall asleep and he decides to confide in me. The closed off very reserved man decides to confide in me at 115AM!

The final message was from Mr. Breadstick. It simply said Ms. Ineedacheeseburger and I broke up. WHAT. THE. FUCK. I had just invited her to live with me for the summer and they broke up! Shit balls.

I told Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers this morning that someone must be listening to us. Whatever. It’s time for a day on the beach and dress shopping.