um.
some dude cornered me when i was drunk, somehow got me to give him my email, then proceeded to hand me a bouquet of flowers at 3am.
by 8 am i had an email with his headshot, his resume, and a Yahoo greeting card that played muzak and has a dinner invitation.
ok.
i just thought i'd type that out to see if it reads as ridiculous as it feels.
good.
this calls for drastic measures
as of today, I am off the internet for a week.
no more google.
no more blogging.
no more reading livejournal.
no more myspace (thank god).
nothing but email for school and work.
chances are i won't answer personal emails, since they're not absolutely necessary.
i'm off.
i'm addicted, and i need to stop.
i have already succesfully overcome my ipod addiction.
since i can't cure the beef and dvr thing, i do the next best thing.
this week it's No Internet, Never.
the fucking Nerve of some people!
ok look. i admit it. i have not shut off my nerve profile.
i said i would, and i didn't.
it's all because of this one guy who is SO MASSIVELY HOT that i can barely stare at his profile without exploding.
is that so wrong?
is it wrong that i am still browsing even though i should not be?
i'll tell you what IS wrong.
there is a group of Nervers (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) that actually send out the same email over and over again.
example:
my first week on Nerve, this dude sent me an email that reads:
"I know this is forward but, would have drinks tonight at the cutest bar in Chelsea?"
i never replied cause that's how i roll.
and i'm glad i didnt because last night, oh yes, last night,
HE SENT ME THE SAME EMAIL AGAIN!!
i thought it was a one-time thing. but no.
my first week i got another email from this other dude who wrote,
"hey there. how has your online experience been so far?"
to this man i actually replied with a simple "fine." (i'm so classy)
and of course, last night, 4 months later,
AGAIN. THE SAME FUCKING EMAIL AGAIN.
these people should not be allowed on Nerve. they spam.
but it is a special type of fucking spam.
it's a spam that, if you think about it closely, could lead to sex.
do you know any type of spam more traumatic than one that could potentially get you laid by someone who is trolling the internet deceitfully?!?!?!
no no no.
this is worse than spam. this is N'am.
the Nerve Spam.
it's the Nerve Spam that kills, that thrills, that uses you up until you cave.
and you go out to drinks with Boom.
see? it all comes back to Boom.
i've been to N'am.
and it's not pretty.
in the midst of everything wretched
sometimes something genuine, something good happens... bullshit is flinging all around you...
but you actually take time out to cry.i came to work that friday, knowing i had a job interview. knowing that the place i used to love, was going to be dead creepy...with 8 people laid off, i was hesitant to see the faces of my coworkers and friends.the crutched up and rather uppity cat that used to sit next to me, my cubicle love, if you will...i will - he was laid to the off.
and this is someone i spent two years hating. and by hating i mean making fun of, relentlessly name calling...images...conjuring images in my head of him falling off of his bike on a quaint brooklyn street...falling off of a barstool at capones, drunk from the beer special - whilst trying to chat up some wannabe hipster chick with her way too expensive ensemble from urban outfitters...but that's not my point...here's my point...he was miserable to me. day in and day out. for the sake of this blog, i will lovingly refer to him as i always have...el capitano de los pantalones cortos...captain short pants for you gringos.his pants were high, always...approximately 6" from the top of his shoe when he sat and 3" when he stood up...miserable, like how...you may ask?i mean who the eff sits next to you and never says hi when you say goodmorning?who the eff tells you to lower your tv when it's not even loud enough for you to hear it? we work in tv for effs sake...who the eff crunches their apple, slurps their coffee, takes off their shoes, sleeps at their desk, plays air drums - and dares to have the nerve to ask you to lower your voice a tad when you're on the phone?who the eff walks past you and actually bumps your arm while you're holding a hot beverage?eff that.eff him.i let him know i hated him, hated him right back.i would laugh. i would send out mass emails to my friends in the cubicles around me, laughter coming out of every girls mouth in rapid succession. he would say something to me...i would send out an email...laughs. he knew we were all over him.i dreamed of launching my clementine pits over the cubicle wall - so they would land ever so softly in his giant nest of uncombed hair...i dreamed off offering him a cookie - him choking...me, watching him suffer...i'm sick. i know.so that friday...his last day...capitano turns to me...capitano: do you have a second to talkthe crutcha: uh huhcapitano: i just want to let you know that i know it was my fault...i've spent two years being nasty to you and i know i started it. i came into work, everyday, unhappy and trying to get other things done that weren't about being here...the crutcha: (speechless...just nodding)capitano: so, i'm sorry...the crutcha: i'm sorry too, capitano...i wasn't kind to you either...and i could have acted maturely and talked to you about it...capitano: no, no, crutcha...the way you acted was a direct response to my negative actions and attitude..the crutcha: well thank you, capitano...i hope everything goes well - and i'm sorry. i have to go to a job interview now, but be well...captiano: (he stands...he's coming closer...he's hugging me...what the eff?) well goodluck, i hope it all works out for you too...(capitano exits our land of cubicles)this mother effer made me cry.after two years, i felt like the biggest douche on the face of the earth.i couldn't believe it.i still can't believe it.do you think he actually felt bad for being a royal a-hole?or was he doing a karmic clean-up? like he knows he's been a douche, thinks that's why he was laid off...and now he's back tracking and kissing my grits for forgiveness...who the eff knows?i don't have a clue.either way, capitano crutched me up.and i thank him for it.rarely a time goes by where in i am speechless..but he did it...you will remain, forever...in my heart, capitano...
she brings out the monster in me, but i have alternate tactics...bitch
i'm awake.it's illegaly early for a sunday.na.na.na.i couldn't sleep, as i am having brunch with my brother and his bernie today....anxiety attack abound.bernie is what i call his girl, that's right, because i am mean and rotten and proud of it.and she looks like a bernie.and so, i'm anxious.i walk to my coffee pot.i walk to my rommates computer.msn.com is featuring an article this morning: 'want to get married: 7 tips for finding 'the one' online'can we effing please?i'll run thru the tips, all 7 of them - to get you married, today!shite!shite!because you know, you only need 7 tips to get yourself into marriage and then into a hot divorce mess these days...*and this is a tribute to my bromax and bernie because it reminded me of them...(except they did not meet online...she just did this on her own accord. she's ahead of the times. had these 7 tips already planted in that dome of hers - before msn even knew about them. i wouldn't be surprised if that douche wrote this article.)let's go...1) put it out for the world to see, post it in that profile girls, let errybody know you want to get hitched*translation: appear to be a desperate housewife2) courtship means letting the man email you first*translation: you're crutched and afraid of rejection so you're lazy and effed and think: 'imma let him do all the work because tradition and male contact first always makes things right'3) no hokey pokey until you know he's the one that makes the wedding chimes ding ever so soflty in your dream-filled head*translation: be a prude, not a tartlet because chaste girls win and ho-bags lose.
4) date 3 or more men/people (if your temps) at a time*translation: date men, date women, don't sleep with any of them...while you're waiting for that first one you originally fancied; to take you to fortunoff...to get you a ring...after you haven't even put out...5) (can you believe we're on 5! only a few more!) go on multiple dates with someone - 2, 3 - give the person a shot*tranlation: hi, i'm lynn and i'm so very much in need of being wed - so imma keep dating you just because time is winding down on me and even though i can't picture myself riding you - i'll keep dating you anyway because you seem like you might cave in and propose to me if i give you enough grief
6) talk about marriage, go ahead, bring it up - once you think you've found 'the one'*translation: throughout all of your dates and courtship you've appeared to be completely lucid and now that you have him, it's ok to be psychotic and demanding7) (can you breathe, i can barely breathe!) KEEP BRINGING IT UP!*translation: drive him insane, until he caves, make that man propose to you! you found a weak one, ladies! congratulations! that way in 10 years, he shows up with a jones for a 25 year old hot bodied bimbo - and you're left out on long island with 3 kids and a husband that can't get it up for you...i don't know about you, but imma try this today.i'll let you know where i'm at in one week.i'll let you know what happens to my brother in 10 years.
the love...the hate...i know you wanna think your shit don't stank...and other random dedications
the order is arbitrary...i love coffee before i go for my morning run at the gym.i love temps.i love my morning bowl of cereal and soy milk.i love sushii love making out...i love winei love a good necking session...bringing me to...
loving IT man more today than yesterday.
loving the photographer from hip-hop karaoke. nothing's fine i'm torn.i'm all out of faith, this is how i feel.thank you, natalie.my heart, torn.moving...on...yesterday - june 9th - was one, robert kelly's birthday.robert kelly was my childhood crush.and by that i mean, he was the most adorable black child ever.caramel colored skin, flat top with a fade on the sides, and he was always rocking an array of mickey mouse sweatshirts. these sweatshirts repped the black mickey - with gold chains, cross color jeans, over-sized karl kani t-shirts and a flat top between both ears...it was hot.i'm not in touch with robert anymore, he moved to PA when i was 13...but i'll always remember his birthday.yesterday, my roommate - Giuseppina - chaperoned the JHS prom at her school.it made me reflect on my JHS prom.it was a humid day in June. hair was frizzing, i was large, i had no date, my best friend was going with quite a troubled young man...and by that i mean a 15 year old colombian drug lord.but what i remember most is shopping for this dress...my mom and pop hadto drive me to the 5 towns shopping center because there i could find a dress...i could find a dress there because they housed the only sizes unlimited close enough to my house.there was no avenue, dress barn woman or fashion bug, plus. *ok, if you're fat as a child and going into adulthood - the tags on your clothing should not say sizes unlimited. i mean lane bryant has become a household name for women of shape and size and badonk - but can't all sizes just get along...i digress...i was a size 22 in the 8th grade.my dress was black with little white flowers, and i tried to feel pretty.please see notes on the weather above.i was dateless.i drank too much coca-cola. i had gas.i came home ill.as opposed to my HS prom. a hot bodied size 22/24...with a hot date, who was a friend of mine at the time...who i have recently come to find out is gay and in drug rehab. thank you friendster for the note on his sexuality, thank you close friend sources for the notes on rehab. we looked cute together. we took excellent pictures. my point, my point, temps...maybe this wouldn't have happened if the interweb was more than just an aol dial up connection back in 94' or 98'...the only thing people used the worldwide for was love at aol, chat rooms and instant messaging...ergo my first date ever, a plus-sized 18 yr old, with one - henry, from bay ridge.henry and i instant messaged everyday for 2 months.we never spoke on the phone.henry was asian.profiles gave you minimal details back then.i didn't know about henry's favorite book, sex scene, humbling moment, religious preference, doggy? missionary? ...i knew none of it.henry asked if he could take me to see 'the titanic' for valentine's day.i agreed.my first hint should have been that he called the movie 'the' titanic...i called my cousin d, she was 21 at the time and drove a hot blue neon with a sticker in the back window that said 'da bomb.' she came in from strong island, to meet up with rocky - the guido she met on aol - and we doubled.and by that i mean, we set up a sting operation.i feared henry would be opposed to my plus sized beauty, so i needed buffers.my brother came with one of his atrocious girlfriends.he sat in the back of the theater quietly.i meet henry.he hardly speaks english.and by hardly speaks english, i mean he put the in front of every word and i asked him to repeat everything he said to me. whispering sweet nothings wouldn't have worked, as i would have had no clue what the eff was going on. henry: oh, tonight we go at to meet at the sheepshead bay. sheepshead bay was the movie theater.he said this while i was next to him, waiting in front of the theater.henry tried to hold my hand.henry bought us popcorn.henry told me he had 'good time.'henry told me i was 'the nice.'henry was sweet, despite the fact that i'm making fun of him now.henry wasn't hayting on my lovely lady lumps. henry asked me out again.i was a turd.i dodged his phone calls.maybe if there is ever a release of the titanic part deux, henry and i will make cyber love once again.and about my cousin d...rocky was hot, but i don't think he and d ever kicked it. my bromax is still dating atrocious girls.i am no longer shopping in sizes unlimited.and i think today is going to be a good day.
on internet addiction
email is a durty tool, as Crutcha once said.
it allows for word grinding with men who are taken (i mean, this is what i hear on the streets), word grinding with men you have no interest in, word grinding with women you potentially want to go kd lang with (again, this is what i hear), and WORSE OF ALL, it allows for word grinding with highly innapropriate people. you know, bosses, professors, ex-boyfriends, old friends you want nothing to do with, new friends you want nothing to do with, etc.
plus. email is just one more way that people can realize that you're an asshole.
"you never answer the phone, you never write letters, you never leave me comments on MySpace. now you don't even return my emails?????" oh the crutchery.
there is a crazy amount of information about me on the internet. this scares me.
not because i'm afraid of stalkers, or because i think pedophiles are going to try to molest me (i should be so lucky).
no. what scares me about my internet presence is that now everyone knows that i was not, as i claimed, away from my computer.
"wait a minute! there's no way you were in Kosovo as you claimed you were! you last logged onto neve/myspace/friendster/work email/your blog/your livejournal/AIM this morning at 9am!!! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME?!?!?"
ahem. i digress.
my excuse for everything lately is that i'm too busy.
but i'm a fraud.
because the truth of the matter is that despite the jobs, and the schoolwork, and all that other bullshit i claim to be doing, i always come home to the internet.
that's right.
i love my men and i love my dog,
BUT
the true love in my heart and crotch
is trolling the internet.
i am body beautiful
a tribute to my 26th birthday.today, i will sing it out like Ru. Ru Paul that is.no, not because i'm a trani...but because it's my birthday.i have to celebrate something.so i thought, why not start the morning off right and celebrate my body...before it's eaten too much pate and cake this evening.if you need a visual, here she goes...my roommate decorated the house. she rocks my uni like none other. balloons, all over, in celebration of the big big. cards and gifts on the coffee table. me, delighted and overwhelmed and wanting to wake her up out of her sleep to hug her and thank her.i'm on the phone with my stefferoni macaroni, to ring in my birthday, for we've had this tradition for well over a decade now - to call one another at midnight despite the time zone barrier.i love it.it makes me laugh and smile everytime.it makes me cry because i miss her.my tums was full with burgers from the bistro, that temps so graciously walked to in her hot new hurting platform foot decorations. she filled my 6 pack abs with tasti d-lite, hamburger and we even got to have dinner in the presence of a silver fox editor...it was the hottest day and evening ever....but this isn't about crying or being nice, you turds, it's going to circle back to the interweb and it's desturctive ways...doy.so, yes, i am sitting...in the lingerie my roommate bought me. i opened up presents this morning!for in target, 2 weeks ago, i proclaimed (as a sexless woman) that i did not need to wear lingerie for anyone (this is my plight to sound confident, woman, secure at 26), for i would walk around the house in all of my curvaceous glory...onward...i'm drinking coffee.i have no zits, thank the good lord baby jesus.i am, of course, sipping on some coffee...no...not sizurp; or smoking endo, sippin on gin and juice -as snoop would have liked it.an ordinary morning, like any other...except i look dead sexy, i'm a year older, and my left boob is slightly cocked off to the side - more so than it was last june.i'm webbing.i'm trolling.i'm hotmailing.i don't want to go on myspace so early.i'm not logging onto friendster, for i don't need the bad blood so early in the am.i'm junkmailing.(introduce dating dilemma...ill scenario numero uno para la dia)there's a dang email from e-harmony...to wish me love and luck for my birthday.two words biblethumpers.mothereffing.orgEFF YOU.take me off your mass email list.i've taken dating into my own hands.literally.clicking my shit all by me-self.post that testimonial, with my crutched up face, on the main page of your website.they don't know me.you don't know me.if you read this blog, and by that i mean temps and steffers and mo-diggity, then you do know me and you know how i roll.today imma roll.imma troll.imma dance like IT man is laying in my bed waiting for me.imma bump and grind tonight, with a full belly, a happy face and an ass that does not quit.i don't need you eharmony.i don't need you dating.i do, however, need to finish my coffee...and continue my tribute to damian marley...because i am addicted, mo-diggty.she loves my culture, herbs and locks//silkly smooth way i flow//my words and my tracks//she's hoping we can spend a night at//somewhere that's warm and cozy...why not...
