H&H has let me down!

Ok seriously? After all my obsessive Ode to Hale and Hearty posts and my endless professions of love for the Broccoli Cheddar with mashed potato soup or any other creamy soup with cheddar in it I am seriously pissed off that not one of the Soups of the Day today is the least bit appetizing. What is up with the selection of the Daily Soups? How do you pick what becomes the Daily Soup? Whatever sounds gross and has no flavor? I have yet to order anything from that list because IT SUCKS! Why would you not put Broccoli Cheddar on the Daily Soups list? Why??? Am I being a bit scary? Some might consider the 11 angry emails I sent them a threat...I am merely a sweet soup lover who is a bit under the weather and slightly cranky and just wants her GODDAMN BROCCOLI CHEDDAR!

Not a happy monday...

OK so I just have a feeling it's going to be one of those days...I set my alarm for 9am (I know, I was being ambitious)...but oh it wasn't necessary because from 8am on my blackberry is being blown up by the mass email correspondences between 12 bridesmaids...Gah! It's f-in freezing so getting out of under my warm sheets was an accomplishment in itself. I decided I wanted a mango for breakfast and I just happened to have one in the fridge. It took me no less than 20 minutes to peel the damn thing with a dull knife, clawing away at it until it was a mushy mess in my hands, yet still, I was not giving up on my mango. I began to slice it as opposed to just taking bites out of it like an animal- and as I was slicing the last piece with the dull knife, it slipped, knocking all the slices onto our less than sanitary kitchen floor. The 5 second rule definitely does not apply in our apartment. And now, I have to get in the shower for work... on a Monday! Where does the insanity end?

He's Big Time

Check out Alan as NYC's Most Eligible Bachelor who I had a date with last weekend. Now that he's big time I can say that I knew him way back when we were introduced just because he was "another Thai", when he was with his psycho ex who I'm proud to say hated me, when his friend slipped me acid at his house party, and when he'd drunk dial me to say "I love you man" right before he blacked out... A-Dog's a classic.

D-Bag Rewards Program- Are you a Bag Holder?

Every brand/store/company has some type of rewards program from frequent flier miles to the bean card at Hale and Hearty soups- after every 10 soups you get one free...There really should be a Douche-Bag Rewards Program. For every hundred douch bag that hits on me I get 1 free man with a self deprecating sense of humor and mojo, who challenges me and laughs with/at me but wants to treat me like the fabulous person that I am. There could be like a punch card to keep track of it and once you get 100 holes in the shape of penises you can cash it in for a real man. No? It doesn't work this way? Dammit.

Dating Deal Breaker:

I have quite a long list of dating deal breakers, most of them petty, such as fat fingers, flagging down a waitress for something that could wait, not talking enough about me, mispronouncing Italian words, silk boxers (especially with flames on them ala Spencers Gift Store), dirty talk, walking in front of me, and many, many more...I am now realizing that guys have plenty of their own deal breakers- whereas I had always thought they would date anything that had a hoo-hah...- In this week's TONY- Julia Allison talks about apartment decor as deal breakers in the article Deal, Or No Deal. Understandably if anyone saw my room/house in college they would go running before I could even say "I'm not wearing any underwear"...but I thought 4 years later, I've cleaned up my act (and my room) quite a bit and have a pretty decent, deal breaker proof pad. As I look around my room where there's not one inch of floor space visible, sobering up from my delusional haze, I realize I may be single forever.

Happy Monday!

I generally have Sundays and Mondays off which I prefer over the typical Saturday and Sunday combo because while everyone is winding down to start their work week I feel like I have an extra day of peace and quiet while everyone's at work. I'm usually imobile on Sundays from an 80 hour workweek- 60 percent of it spent on my feet. Yesterday I spent 8 hours on the couch alternating between sleeping and watching Top Model marathon on MTV. Today was much more productive. I got up at a reasonable hour (10ish), went to the gym, did a months worth of laundry, bought myself flowers (Stargazer Lilies), went food shopping, cleaned my room (stuffed everything in my closet), and got a much needed 30 minute Chinese massage. I know, I've been known to be a bit harsh on the Chinese (damn you 28 hour flights on Eva Air!) but seriously- they redeemed themselves with the massage. Cooked a Thai feast for Kristine and Emily and watched Gossip Girl (best show ever) and The Hills with a bottle of wine. Does it get any better than that?

Thai Wedding

Went to a wedding with Alan on Saturday. The weather was beautiful and we were on a rooftop bar (230 Fifth) in Manhattan- I haven't hung out with Alan in quite some time so it was great catching up...It was an awesome afternoon.

The pickings get slimmer by the day...

Unattractive Large Guy: What are you?
Me: I'm half Thai and half Danish.
ULG: Thai? Cool, I was stationed in Korea for a year.
Me: I'm not sure how that's relevant. They're two different countries.
ULG: Konichiwa. You know that? That's hello in Korean.
Me: I don't speak Korean. And that's Japanese, retard.

To the 4 dumpy, homely Long Island moms:

This weekend Britt and I went to Pig & Whistle (I don't like to admit this) for late night drinks and immediately when we walked in heads turned (we didn't exactly fit in) and these four 40 year old wildebeests gave us dirty looks and and sidelong glances, clearly talking shit about us. I might have understood if we were dressed like Staten Island girls going to club row on a Saturday night but we weren't. Britt was in black skinny jeans, a flowy flowery shirt, and flat sandals and I was in a dress that fit like a garbage bag. Granted our large over sized work bags were knocking into their even more over sized suburban mom asses- perhaps had their asses not been so ginormous and resting on the stools like rhinos bathing in the sun, perhaps they wouldn't have been such easy targets for our bags. These ladies glared at us and mocked us for being young, attractive (if only by comparison) girls. Had their combined ages not been 475 perhaps this insecure behavior would have been fitting- but seriously ladies? Come on! It's likely that both your husband and your son are sleeping with someone our age but don't hate the rest of the 20-something population for it! Maybe if you kept yourselves up a bit and weren't sour, miserable trolls, your husbands would want to take you out and give it to you once in a while instead of having to have a Grandmas' Night Out with your Momtourage at Pig & Whistle. Next time do us all a favor and stay home to sip on your haterade.

Doing my job:

Eighteen-year-old-sweet-innocent-southern-belle-hostess: Hey, are you taking care of that party over there? This guy said he hasn't seen his waitress in a while and wants to order a drink.
Me: Tell him to suck my butt.
EYOSISBH: (just looked at me as if I just told her I'm sleeping with her dad)

Overheard:

1:15 PM - At the office:
"He needs to tell me if we're having sex during my lunch break. If not then I'm ordering some food."

2:47 PM - On Lafayette and Grand St.
Little boy throwing a crying tantrum with his mom:
"I WILL NOT LOVE YOU ANYMORE AND I WILL NOT GIVE YOU KISSES!"
And the mother gives me a "kids just say the darnest things" look. No, kids are pure evil.

6:52 PM - On 42nd and Ninth Ave.
Fat girl in ill-fitting gym clothes shouting on her cell phone:
"I go to the gym 5 days a week and I count calories! That should be sufficient!"
Girl, clearly it isn't. Just kill yourself.

Latest obsession:

I just had the Broccoli Cheddar and Mashed Potato soup from Hale and Hearty Soups (various locations in Manhattan)- amazing! I mean mashed potatoes in a soup?? Heaven in a bite. AND the best part is you can order online for delivery- so you don't have to speak to any of those counter idiots and you don't have to get up from your desk. Total bonus. I'd be the happiest person if everything in life could be ordered online.

Finishing up drinks:

Mary: I have to be up tomorrow.
Me: Yeah me too.
Mary: (confused) Really you do? What time?
Me: Oh no, not early. I just meant I do have to get up- at some point.
Mary: I hate you.

In the cab:

Brit: This cab smells like my ex.
Me: Gross. It smells like straight up B.O. in here!

On being Nina:

Where should I begin? It is now Tuesday and I had been drinking since last Wednesday. I've also been wearing the same outfit since Saturday with a couple of showers in between. I don't remember getting home Thursday night but clearly I made it home since I woke up in my bedroom (which also functions as a landfill) on Friday morning. I had an 11am appointment at H&R Block to get my taxes did- still laying in bed at 10:30am wondering how I could make the room stop spinning. I couldn't solve that issue so I called the Block at 10:48am with my raspy man voice to cancel. What a waste I am.

So fast forward to last night. I was home in Jersey visiting the woman who created me when my girlfriend C called to tell me she was in NYC. It's been too long since I've seen her, especially on my turf, so I hopped the next train back to NYC. We met at my bar for a few martinis and then headed to Johnny Utah's to show her the reason why I often wake up in the wrong city, get no sleep, taste like tequila, and basically resemble a crack whore without ever actually dabbling in the habit. Ah yes, well mission accomplished. We were just going to have "one blue moon" there and "show her the place" but a couple of hours (or a few minutes, I have no idea) later and we were confirmed drunkards. We made it back to the fancy Waldorf where her company had put her up and were seriously tipped over on the class scale. I stumbled into the elevator and one guy gave me the "Wow you're a hot mess" look and I nodded confirming that I am fully aware of what I mess I was and added a "Yeah, fuck you," with the finger. Then I got off the elevator and body checked some guy who was walking next to me in to the wall- just because I felt like it.

Back at the room- after drunk dialing her boyfriend and removing our pants (not sure why)- we decided to order $70 worth of room service (which only included 1 Cheesesteak and 1 pizza) and raided the bar. Ah the indulgence. By the way does anyone know just how terribly uncomfortable it is to sleep in a bed full of potato chip crumbs? Try eating an entire can of Pringles and then sleeping in the bed after. Those little crumbs pierce your legs and ass like shards of glass! I had a moment of delusion when I thought it would be a good idea to try to go back out but I took one look at myself in the mirror and thankfully could still see straight enough to see just how hid-e-odous I looked and that made me decide to stay put. While C wasn't the partner I had hoped to share a bed at the Waldorf with I sure do love staying in hotels. Until I woke up at 6am -my mouth feeling like I've just swallowed a fistful of sand- realizing I need to make it back to Hoboken for my rescheduled tax prep appointment at 10am. Why have I not learned my lesson to stop booking anything before my functioning hour of 1pm? But how was I to know I was going to go on yet another drinking binge on a Monday? Well, alas, and quite impressively, I made it to the appt and am getting a pretty nice return from The Man. Hollerrr!

Overheard at Wet Bar:

Guy to his friends: Yeah these bartenders aren't even that hot. By New York standards- they should be much hotter.
A minute later..
Bartender to me and Brit: Do you girls need a drink?
Me: No, we're just staring at you to figure out whether we think you're hot or not.

I've been discovered!

I get this line all the time: "Excuse me miss? Do you model? No? Wow, you really should. You're really beautiful." And no, I don't get this all the time because I'm actually beautiful enough to be a model. Guys really do believe that this line would work on a girl. Like I'm this girl who's always thought she was pretty but no one's ever really appreciated or noticed just how pretty I really am...that I'd be so flattered that someone thinks I could model, really model...Sorry buddy, I'm just not insecure enough for your lines.

The best part was this guy, Eddie, really took it to another level. Telling me he's a photographer and that I've really got something and that I'm so beautiful and that I should give him a call to set up a photo shoot with him and so on. (I'm stuck on the E train with him if you're wondering why I let this conversation go on for so long). So not only does he give me his number but he also writes a little note with an asterisk at the bottom: "Practice and count 200 poses in the mirror." He said if I did this I would "get it". I dunno- I got up to about 58 poses and gave up. I guess modeling is not in my future.

How do you like it?

Bald man: What are you drinking?
Me: A dirty martini.
Bald man: How dirty is it? Is it really dirty?
Me: It's filthy. Like my panties.

God's little jokes...

It always makes my day when I come across something like this...(A vitamin water pile-up at TONY)