Most Normal Girl
.: The Girl :.
.: Recent Posts :.
.: Archives :.
.: Other Fun Reads :.
.: Sites I Frequent :.
.: Credits :.
Template By Caz
Powered by: Blogger
.: Disclaimer :.
By visiting this site, you read at your own risk. I am known for errors in grammar and spelling. If you become less intelligent by reading this site, become incredibly bored, or are disgusted by what you read - you were warned. Furthermore, I will not be held responsible for ANY mental, emotional, physical, financial, or spiritual damage to you, your friends, your family or strangers. I apologize to my friends and family if I embarrass you. I reserve the right to edit any and all comments on this blog. I also reserve the right to humiliate you if you dare say anything negative about me, my friends, my family, or strangers who I like.
Thursday, March 31, 2005Sorry To Disappoint
For those of you who may frequent this little experiment of mine, you may have noticed a significant change: the comment section is (mostly) down.
Just like it was in elementary school, someone just HAD to come along and ruin the fun for everyone else by posting comments that were either inappropriate, rude, untrue, and/or hurtful. So - it's my BLOG, it's my RULES.
I realize that I opened myself up to negativity when I started this little thing. Most of you have actually been really nice or funny with your comments. I appreciate that and I appreciate YOU. It's okay if people disagree with me or don't like what I have to say. I have two words for you - DON'T READ. I'm the kind of girl that puts things out there and says what is on my mind (for better or for worse). If it offends you or if you take things out of context or choose to only focus on the negative, that's your problem. I'm not going to waste my time, or my tears, trying to please everyone or blowing smoke up your ass so that you'll like me. If you don't like me, or if you don't like what I have to say, GO SOMEWHERE ELSE.
Remember, this is the Internet. I can easily take down comments and plaster your name and contact information all over so that you would receive HATE MAIL. It's been done before.
For those of you who still love me and support me and perhaps like what I have to say - YOU'RE THE BEST AND I WILL BUY YOU ALL BEER IF YOUR IDIOT ROOMMATE DRINKS ALL OF YOURS. That's how much I care.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005Deja Vu
Last night I made out in a parked car. I don't think I've done that since High School. And I loved every minute. I was half expecting a cop to show up and shine a bright flashlight in the window while tapping on the glass - just when things would be getting good. That was my luck in High School, so why would things be any different now?
But they WERE different.
No cop showed up.
No bright flashlight killed the moment of passionate tongue twister.
No embarrassing excuses of why we were making out in a parked car.
No threats to call my mom and dad.
None of it.
Instead, it was just a boy and a girl in a parked car.
Thursday, March 24, 2005You Know You've Dated Too Much When...
A guy I had dated three years ago was great. His name was Jordan and he was probably the closest guy (geographically) that I've ever dated. He lived only five exits up the freeway from me. FIVE. Do you hear me? FIVE. I'm the girl who manages to date geographically UNdesirable men. FIVE EXITS. I should have stuck with him - just for that. But such is life, we only dated for about three months. It was fun while it lasted. We had met at a party (while I was on THE WORST DATE OF MY LIFE - but that story is for another day) and things sort of began from there. I hadn't given him much thought after things ended between us. That is, until today.
Jordan had managed to get in touch with a friend who was trying to sell one ticket to the World Series (when the Angels were in it). My dad is a huge fan, so my mom and I managed to get the one ticket for my dad. He loved it and now has a framed memory box up in our house.
Anyway, this all leads me to what has just happened... It's no surprise that I've dated men from the Internet. Hey, it's the new way of meeting people right?!?! (If you judge me for it, GO TO HELL.) So, I started talking to a guy today... We start talking about baseball and one thing leads to another... Before we know it, we both realize that HE was the guy that sold that one ticket to our family!
You know you've dated too much when you start meeting friends of former ex's. How in the world have I run out of men to date in one of the biggest cities in the WORLD? How? How? I was so embarrassed about the whole situation!!! I don't even think the girls from Sex & The City ran out of men to date! What does this say about me?!
I guess it's official - I'm a dating WHORE.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005He's A Rock Star - Well, Sorta
Me and my bro - Camp Pendleton
Sunday night, my family (plus one) got together at a restaurant to devour food and make small talk - like most families. My brother had been serving his "one weekend a month" time over the weekend and he was not shy about telling us ALL ABOUT IT. IN DETAIL. AND IT DIDN'T END. WE DIDN'T "TALK" ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE. I SWEAR. ... AND JUST WHEN YOU THINK THAT PART OF THE CONVERSATION IS OVER, HE STARTS UP AGAIN. That kid can talk. Anyway, in the middle of one of his stories a group of kids (I would guess ages 7 to 10) came up to our table and in perfect unison said to him, "Excuse us, but thank you for serving our country." They all had this sheepish look on their faces and were sort of giggling - as if they had just said something to a famous person. I can't remember the last time my brother turned the color of CRIMSON RED in an instant. What was his response to these sweet children? "No prob."
...Smooth move there... The one who would not shut up could only come up with "No prob?" Are you kidding me? Short and sweet finally got through to him but he DID NO ONE AT THE TABLE ANY SUCH FAVORS? Lucky kids.
He picked up in the middle of his story right where he left off. I couldn't resist after about 30 seconds and I just blurted out, "YOU WERE LIKE A ROCK STAR!" Apparently, everyone else was thinking it too, but I just happened to finally say something. Everyone agreed and the moment was over.
That's why my brother wears the uniform at every opportunity - just like any other 19 year-old boy, it's FOR THE ATTENTION. And who am I to blame him? I'm just as much of an attention whore.
I love my brother more than anyone else on this planet. He cracks me up, and pisses me off, with the best of 'em. I love that he rambles on and on about his weekend stories and I love watching him get embarrassed but play it off as COOL. I'm really going to miss him if he... uhh... ever gets called up...
Thursday, March 17, 2005So That Happened
Because I said I would, I will now reveal the horror that is my so-called dating life.
In high school, I didn’t date much. I was young and naïve and didn’t really know how to go about meeting guys while I was at an all-girls school. I had met a beautiful boy, Taylor, who loved U2 (very cool) and who made me laugh. He was a student in my dad’s class and we became fast friends. That was my freshman year. And then of course, as you all should know by now, there was that one. That SPECIAL one. The one who would be compared and measured against all others from then on. The one that I still haven’t quite let go of and who is getting married on June 5th of this year in Hawaii to that bitch. Yeah, THAT ONE. He was the guy in my life from age sixteen to nineteen. That pretty much ruled out any other guy in that time-span.
Then came college. I was social in college, but didn’t exactly have a whirlwind dating life. If anything, I was either that girl that was every boy’s really good friend or I was the girl that “you want to marry, but you don’t want to date.” Seriously. I heard that stupid line more times than any woman EVER wants to hear. It’s like a back-handed compliment in a weird way. “Jessica, I don’t want to use you like I normally would with other women. You’re too sweet. But I’m also not looking to get hitched until I’ve fucked around a bit.” Besides that, I can remember only having one boyfriend in college. That lasted a whole two months – and part of that time was over a Winter Break, so in all actuality, it lasted a whopping week. Um, yeah.
After college was when things really started to pick up for me. I started working with a staff of mostly women. One of these women was the All-American girl who was a few years older than me and could party with the best of ‘em. And she did. Every weekend in fact. She would come in on a Monday morning with pictures of the beautiful, Brazilian, wash-board stomach, dancing on her bed, with nothing but the skivvies on, guy. She had the best stories and lived life in the fast lane – but she was also very careful about taking care of her body and of her mind. I thought she was a Goddess. She didn’t give a damn about what other people thought (a trait which I always admired in others but for the life of me could never adopt). I looked up to her and started to emulate that kind of life. Before I knew it, I was a dating machine.
The roller-coaster ride continues. I’m still the dating machine I was, but for very different reasons. It’s been five years now, and I’m really looking to find THE NEXT ONE. My friend, Zak, says that I’m the only woman that he knows that is actually doing something about trying to find THE NEXT ONE instead of just complaining about it while sitting on my ass (apparently, he knows a lot of other women who do that). That’s right buster, I’m OUT THERE. In my full glory. …Problem is, it hasn’t gotten me much of anywhere… See, in the past five years, my longest standing relationship has been with a guy who lives in another country. The Canadian boy who I saw once a month for six months. That tells ya somethin’ doesn’t it? So, this all leads me to my present situation with NEW GUY. NEW GUY has now become THE LAST GUY.
Here’s how it all went down: After three and a half weeks of NOT seeing each other, I got a little pissed. It turns out that when I’m dating someone, I actually want to date them – which of course includes seeing them and going out!!! Well, I brought this matter up over Instant Messenger – which is always a bad idea because you can’t really “hear” the way someone “says” something. But anyway… he was sort of caught off-guard by my need to know which direction our dating life was headed. I don’t want to just be spinning my wheels anymore – that part of me is out of my system. Permanently. So, all of this happened on Tuesday afternoon and by Wednesday I figured it was over. Just in case it wasn’t, I sent a damage-control e-mail telling him that I’ve enjoyed his company (even if it had been brief) and was hoping to see him again. I haven’t heard from him. So, my friends, IT’S OVER. If anyone is out there or knows of anyone who would be interested in dating me, please let me know. I only ask that he be somewhat tall (LAST GUY was 5’7”), goal-oriented (LAST GUY was content with a life of mediocrity), be employed in a career that has a good future (LAST GUY was employed by his dad), a guy who doesn’t need to watch cartoons every night (LAST GUY kept the t.v. on cartoon network as we were going to bed… seriously), a guy who is hot (LAST GUY was good-looking but not exactly HOT), and a guy who wants a relationship (LAST GUY seemed to be a little freaked out about the possibility of sustaining a committed relationship that would involve another person beyond HIMSELF!!). I don’t think I’m asking too much.
So, there you have it. Dammit, where’s Ben & Jerry when you need ‘em???
Wednesday, March 16, 2005Top Five Lists
Prelude: I'M TIRED SO THE SPELLING WILL SUCK. GET OVER IT.
I'm a big fan of top five lists. I love them. LOVE. I'm using the word love. About lists. Are you following me?
I love asking people about their top five lists - especially friends that I've known for a long time. It opens up a whole new realm of conversation that most friends don't explore. Perhaps it is because you don't really know what someone likes until they put it in LIST form. Sort of like when you go to the grocery store and watch the person in front of you unload their cart/basket and you think, "wow, people actually buy crap like that" or "yum, I want to be at their house when dinner time rolls around." But then you kind of get paranoid when it's your turn because you know other people are looking at the stuff that you're pulling out of your cart/basket. Or maybe that's just me. Anyone? Anyone? (Crickets are chirping in the background.) Okay, getting back on track... Top Five Lists are one of those things that gives me piece of mind, in a weird way. It's sort of like, here's a list of things that I enjoy and if I ever have the opportunity, I'm ALLOWED to enjoy them at my leisure. But I can always change my mind about my lists too - I really like being able to have leeway in things that I like. Does this mean I have commitment issues? (Hmmm, something to explore in a later post...) For example, let me give a few of my lists and hopefully this is will make some better sense.
Top Five Men:
Ron Livingston (of course he had to be on here!)
Top Five Foods:
Baja Fresh burritos
Chocolate raspberry truffle from Baskin Robbins (they don't have this one anymore, but every now and then they'll bring it back FOR A DAY and I'm in complete bliss)
Grilled portobello mushroom sandwich with all the fixins and that pesto spread... mmm...
Top Five things I liked as a teenager but don't really care much for now:
The "Rachael" hair-do from Friends
Overalls with a tank-top underneath
Spending hours on the phone with (boy) friends ...I mean, come on, we all know that I don't get to have boyfriends anymore... I guess I know what I'll be posting about tomorrow...
Top Five places I would like to visit in the world:
Paris, France (again)
Top Five movie quotes:
"Hello, Lady!" - The Princess Bride
"I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of the life to start as soon as possible" - When Harry Met Sally
"All men are bastards" - French Kiss
"Carpe Diem. Do you know what it means?" "Uh, fish... fish bait or something..." - Roxanne
"Get busy livin' or get busy dyin'" - Shawshank Redemption
So there you have it. Just a sampling of my TOP FIVE lists. (And for those that were keeping count, there were FIVE of them. 100 points for you.) Now your turn.
Monday, March 14, 2005"Never Give Up!"
Me: Hi (withheld name) - well, I didn't get into UCLA or Columbia for Graduate School. I'm starting to lose hope.
Him: Never give up!
Me: Yeah, yeah... I'm waiting to hear from Harvard and USC now.
Him: Persistence will pay off.
Me: I don't think I'll get into Harvard... Maybe USC.
Him: You never know 'til you try - you should know that.
Me: I'm trying!! I've applied!! But I'm getting a little disillusioned. Maybe grad school isn't in the cards for me at this particular point in my life...?
Him: Maybe not. Life changes and that's what is so darn interesting about this whole thing.
Me: Yeah... I'm hoping that something BIGGER is in the cards for me.
Him: Don't worry - be happy. I have no idea why that came into my head.
Me: Thanks (withheld name), you always bring such enlightened perspective to these little chats.
Him: No seriously. If you take life too seriously it will get the best of you. Love you!
Me: I love you too.
I'm trying not to take it too seriously. I'm trying not to take it too seriously. I'm trying not to take it too seriously. Am I taking this too seriously? Oh shit, am I obsessing? Me, obsess? NEVER.
...Well, he did say to never give up...
Sunday, March 13, 2005Chivalry Is DEAD
(Originally written Wednesday, October 27, 2004 at 8:25p.m. - but it's still true)
Chivalry is dead; or maybe it never existed in the first place. As many of you know, I have the opportunity to travel quite extensively for my job. In each of my travels, I am reminded of how the women's liberation movement really killed some of the nice things that gentlemen used to do for us, as ladies. I mean, come on, give up a seat or help a woman with her bags, will ya? How hard is that? I am constantly reminded of what a buffoon I must look like as I try to haul my luggage up onto a shuttle bus in some unknown city; tripping, falling, sweating, and grunting all the way. Sexy, huh? The only men who I know anymore that are true gentlemen are my dad and my brother (and believe me, HE had to come a long way)! Let's examine that for a moment, shall we?
My brother, the stinky punk little kid who recently grew bigger than his big sister, just a few months ago had pinned me down and threatened to spit on my face. Twelve weeks into Marine Corps Boot Camp and now he's a perfect gentleman - I can't even take his arm on the wrong side (he always has to be on the right). How does that happen? Are men not born with that innate "gentleman" sense that we, as women, all thought they did? Does it have to be taught by other buffoons who didn't know any better once upon a time, too? Or is it that over the years the female species has all but wiped away that part of the male brain in trying to assert our own female power? I don't know what the answer is, or why this is becoming a more commonplace genetic disorder - but I don't like what I'm seeing.
Don't get me wrong, every now and then a guy will surprise me. They're rare gems who are no doubt idiots in some other region of their brain. But, in that one moment when they offer their seat or help me haul up that bag (that I've over-packed with shoes, I'm sure), they are the most glorious of men to walk the Earth. God love 'em.
Saturday, March 12, 2005One Bottle Of Wine And One Beer Later...
So this is what it's come to: My ex is getting married June 5th in Hawaii (YES! JOE is getting MARRIED! It doesn't make sense!); the NEW GUY I was excited about is practically on the way out (did I mention that we haven't seen each other in three and a half weeks?); I spent way too much money on clothes when I really can't afford to be buying clothes ~ oh, and I found out that I had to go up another size in clothing because my hips have this uncontrollable need to keep expanding; Columbia University rejected me from their Graduate Program (letter arrived today); and my boss called to tell me how much she didn't want to go to London for work (can I be any more jealous?). That's my day, in a nutshell. Oh, and I've watched everything TiVo had recorded for me...so now I'm bored. With nothing to look forward to.
I think I deserve to be sitting here on my bedroom floor, one bottle of wine and one bottle of beer later, HATING LIFE.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005Topic For The Day: Who Is The Better Driver
Who makes for a better driver - men or women?
Most would contest men. However, in my experience, it seems to be women. Among my small family, the women are up 3-0. Both my dad and my brother have TOTALED cars (my brother flipped our Jeep no less than six times on the freeway and my dad drove the Mustang head-on into a wall, on the freeway). Guess how many accidents my mom and I have been in? If you guessed ZERO, you're a freakin' genius. (I'm only talking about us being the actual drivers. She was in the accident with my dad January of 2004.)
Yesterday afternoon, I was out doing some errands. While on my way home, a guy in a truck pulled out into the middle of an intersection - while he had a red light and I had the green. My light had started to change yellow when this guy decided to pull into the intersection. WHAT AN IDIOT! I honked my horn (which takes a lot for me to do, because I am not honker) and gave him that "WHAT THE FUCK?" expression - with the hands thrown up and everything! He just waved it off like it was no big deal. Luckily, I was going through the intersection slow enough that we didn't hit each other. But then again, I TRULY am a good driver and he's - well, he's a man... and I content that women are better drivers. (Better meaning safer.)
Given the proportion of men to women in the general population, one would assume that there would be more women drivers. Perhaps that's why we are given the bad rapp? Or is it that women really are worse drivers - more aggressive and what-not?
So, I'll put the question to you: Who are the better drivers - men or women?
Monday, March 07, 2005Losing It
I think I may be losing it. I had a fantastic weekend, but now I'm just GONE.
Last week I had a couple of sore throats that seems to have evolved into an all-out NOT-FEELING-SO-WELL-LOVE-FEST. It's not quite a head cold; it's not quite a stomach thing; it's not quite anything. I'm just not feeling like ME today and I don't know why.
Tears keep rolling down my face, but I'm not crying. It's official - I'm losing it. (Did I ever really have it?)
I think I'm gonna go home.
Saturday, March 05, 2005(She Rolls Her Eyes)
Oh, MOTHER. I'm sorry if I offended anyone out there that may have been offended by me using the word PUSS in that last post. And no, mom, I don't think I revealed too much information on the Internet about my personal habits. What, like all women don't do that? And besides, it was a HYPOTHETICAL. Let's not forget that. Ha!
Friday, March 04, 2005Not Even With The Lure Of A Shaved Puss
The great thing about having gay-guy friends is that you can talk with them and joke around with them like no other friend. Not even the girls. What's even better is that we can joke around about things that are a little more foul and they'll just laugh.
For example: Let's say that I was supposed to meet up with a certain guy earlier this week. And let's say that I was really looking forward to meeting up with this guy because it's been a while since I've seen him and the sexual tension between us is palpable. Let's say, too, that the guy had to cancel at the last minute. Let's then say that I got a little frustrated because I had put soooo much "behind the scenes" work into LOOKING GOOD. Let's -alas- say that I then go and tell my gay friend. Who laughs.
So, since we're talking hypotheticals here - that would leave one to believe (remember hypothetically speaking) that all that effort put forth into LOOKING GOOD was wasted. At least the underwear got to see how pretty I was. Er, um, hypothetically speaking, of course.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005Those L.A. Wanna-Be Types
So last night, I went swimming for about two hours. (Two whole hours that I committed here: that's serious.) My apartment complex has a beautiful pool and spa - both heated to the perfect temperature (HOT). I've been trying to be more active and lose some of this weight that has latched itself to my middle, hips and ass. Two hours was nothing in this perfect atmosphere of hot water and soggy ass-cheeks.
After my laps in the pool (who am I kidding? I was floating back and forth across the pool.) I decided to have some well deserved R&R in the spa for a while. A few kids had come in while I was swimming and planted themselves in the spa - so, me being me, I was going to make new friends. As it turns out, they were all first year students from one of the local colleges. Let me introduce you to Hayley, Tarik and Grant.
Hayley: Sweetheart of a girl. She originated from the Cal Coast and seemed like an ordinary girl who was trying to fit into a social network led by a buffoon.
Tarik: A chatty kid hailing from D.C. He was interesting and knew how to carry a conversation - inquisitive by nature.
Grant: King of the BUFFOONS. He was the whitest boy I've ever seen, but was from Hawaii and was wearing the bling bling. He talked like he wanted to be the cool Vince Vaughn type but had absolutely nothing to show for it. I thought he was a royal idiot.
They were all looking to go into "the industry" (but really, who in L.A. isn't?). They were asking me questions about my experiences in Hollywood and what I thought about their ideas. Ah, to be young and naive again. Grant, of course, thought he was too cool and there was no question in his mind that he was going to have one big break-out video (that's right I said v-i-d-e-o) that would catapult him into the Great Halls of Fame. I told him that along the way, besides being good at what you do (which, based on his appearance, he had that all screwed up) you actually have to meet people WHO LIKE YOU. I thought it would have been too mean to tell him to his face, "Hey, you royal idiot, get a clue. I DON'T LIKE YOU AND WITH THAT ATTITUDE NOBODY IN THIS TOWN WILL EITHER." So, instead, I said it to Hayley and she laughed. We were friends from that moment on.
It drives me crazy. There are too many people in this city who come with high hopes and expectations. Fine. But when they have over-arrogant attitudes and egos the size of Texas, it's just disgusting. They are exactly the kind of people that give L.A. a bad name and they're a dime a dozen. Don't let THOSE PEOPLE tarnish your outlook of what is truly a FABULOUS city.
But then again, you're a great audience and you know what's what. You're smarter than the average bear and I love you.