Look at me, I went to Princeton!

CV: Do you know how smart I am??? Do you even want to know what I got on my SAT verbal?

How crimes typically begin: A rainy day and boredom

Brittany: So it looks like it's gonna rain tomorrow, so no beach day. I still want to do something relaxing though.
Me: We could sit on a rooftop and shoot people.

Blinded by narcissism

A couple days ago I ran into this guy that I went on one date with in college. It was interesting to see him. I mean, it was obviously a surprise, but it wasn't all that awkward since it had been years ago. I remember while sitting across from him at dinner, 5 years ago, that I thought he was attractive but only from the front. When he turned his face to the side it was almost like seeing a different person, someone who leaned closer to the unattractive side. Seeing him now I still felt the same way. I remembered dinner being pleasant, we had some things in common, he laughed at my jokes, and he thought I was great which, it seems now, might have been his best quality, the only thing he had going for himself. While standing at the bar catching up with him all I can think is how the hell did I sit through an entire dinner with this guy? He made the lamest, dullest, most irritating jokes, if you can consider something not even remotely funny a joke. After saying something so fucking lame he would make such a big production to throw back his hands and look you in the eyes and stress that he's "KIDDING!" On top of that he asked me a bunch of questions about myself, which you can rarely go wrong with that, except he would ask me something, I would answer, and then 3 minutes later he would ask me the same damn question in all seriousness. While that may have been one of the most frustrating conversations I've had, it makes me feel reassured that I'm still single because clearly I have very, very bad taste.

Ladies Night Every Friday

Dinner at 24 Prince, dancing at Kiss and Fly, and um I can't really remember after that.

My saucy bunnies

Taxi photo shoot

Drunk eyes!

On dating:

Friend: How was your date?
Me: Well, I ate like a cow, drank like a fish, and cursed like a sailor. To add, I was sweating like a pig and dressed like a man. I broke all dating rules by talking about exes, religion, my dysfunctional family, and my bipolar tendencies. I'd say it wasn't one of my best performances.

How to kill a baby chicken:

I woke up this afternoon with, surprise surprise, yet another massive hangover and all I wanted were scrambled eggs. I swear I wasn't even doing acid this morning but as I sat at the kitchen table waiting for the pan to heat up I heard a scratching noise coming from the egg carton. I listened closely and it sounded like there was a little baby chicken scratching the inside of the egg shell trying to get out. I was scared that when I cracked the egg over the pan a little chicklet was going to be frantically scurrying around the kitchen. To prevent this from happening I decided against cracking the egg open. Instead, I had boiled eggs for breakfast. Just another typical morning filled with acid free hallucinations.

On Humanity:

Ok so my roommate went away to the mountains for a week. I'm supposed to walk his dog, Kira, but I didn't have enough time before going to work the other day. I had enough time to walk her on my way to the train, but not enough to walk her back home. I brainstormed how I could make this work. Could I walk her halfway and then turn to her and say, "Ok, Kira, now run home! Go!" Or could I just tie her up outside the apartment and hope that no one takes her or that she doesn't get loose like she did one time at the A&P. A voice came over the loudspeaker that said, "Will the owner of the boxer please put down the tub of Ben & Jerry's and learn how to tie a decent knot?" How long can you leave a dog tied up to a pole unattended anyway? Is there some kind of law like how you can't leave a baby in a car with the windows rolled up for 30 minutes? These are things that I just don't know.

Soundbites:

IM: Stop by, we have Sam Adams.
Me: Had you told me you kidnapped a busload of school children and are torturing them at your apartment I'd be there in a second. Beers? No thanks.

Ted Leo and the Pharmacists

The only good thing that came out of my horrible Monday was that my friend, W, had called me with extra tickets to a show for a band I had never heard of. I'm not exactly a band person, especially when I don't know the words to any of their songs. I don't know. I just don't really know what I should be doing. Nodding my head? Tapping my feet? Drinking beers? I don't like to turn down tickets though. Especially since someone was nice enough to ask me. My ex once asked me to a Robert Plant show in Connecticut. All I could hear on the phone over the loud bar music was, "Do you want to go see Lava Lamp?" Yet still, I agreed to go. Anyway, this band, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, who are opening for Pearl Jam this summer, turned out to be pretty damn good. I looked around the room and all I could think of was the Chappelle show episode of "White Guy Dancing to Acoustic Guitar" - lots of guys with funny jerky limb movements. The girl bopping around in front of me smelled lovely, like flowers and baby powder, so I must say, it was a damn good show.

F you, Mother Nature!

Whenever I start spewing nonsense such as, "Life's so great," expect imminent doom to follow in the form of a monsoon, apocalypse, or a broken sandal with no shoe store in sight. I prayed all Monday morning for rain so that I wouldn't have to go to work. Prayed and prayed and prayed. Danced around my apartment in my underwear banging the thunder pot on my head. I got all excited when I swore I heard thunder, only to realize it was Andrew moving a heavy chair. I thought I heard a downpour only to find out it was our neighbors vacuuming upstairs. I reluctantly got dressed and started walking to the train. Three blocks into my walk, 7 blocks away from the train, it started pouring elephants. It was the type of rain that even though you have an umbrella you are soaked from neck down the only things dry are your hair and the inside of your umbrella. I got on the train and my legs start getting red bumps on them- the only culprit could be the nasty street water I was sloshing around in. I emerged from the train 15 minutes later and it was blue skies as far as the eye can see. Two fingers up to the sky. Three hours and $5 later the sky turned black, tree branches fell, and the rain came down again. It's a spectacular day when you've been caught in a downpour, got a nasty rash from it, dried up, and got soaked again, and got a mosquito bite on my face. I've discovered another person who hates me- Mother Nature.

My life be like....

I had such an amazing weekend starting from Thursday with Kate in town, all day at the pool on Friday, Mets game at night, dancing at Suzie Wongs Princess and Tenjune with the girls, and finishing off with a fathers day rooftop bbq at 215 10th St. Life doesn't get any better than this.


Only picture I managed to take with Kate- 4 spilled dirty martinis later.


A rare moment of camaraderie with Jake.


Mets game. Awesome seats! Thanks, Wes!


View from our roof.


Flaming bbq- pre unsanitary events that followed.


My favorite picture of Andrew. Big fish in a small pond. A really small pond.


The cavemen cooking. I couldn't resist.

A whale back?

A few weeks ago Mary texted me with this conversation she overheard:

Guy 1: Ok let me tell you something, whenever you see a group of girls together at a bar there is always one that is an anchor.
Guy 2: A what?
Guy 1: An anchor. You know, someone who holds them all back and it's usually some broad backed bitch!

This past weekend my girlfriend had a friend who was visiting NYC and was staying with her. Me and gf were planning on going out dancing and this visiting friend (VF) wanted to come along. While GF loves VF she posed her dilemma to me bluntly- "This is NYC and we're definitely not getting past velvet ropes with VF tagging along." I started cracking up, "Oh my god! VF is your anchor!"

I explained this dilemma to my girl, K, who was also in town saying, "Seriously. This is NYC. They're not gonna let fatties or uglies in." Kate, appalled by my open shallowness, replies, "Oh my god. I hope I never get fat. You totally wouldn't be my friend anymore." To which I replied, "Well, just don't get fat and we wouldn't have a problem."

Love lessons from Juno:

"The right person's still gonna think the sun shines out your ass. That's the person who's gonna stay with you."

On Being Single:

Want to throw up SATC? Not me! I'm still shoveling it in by the mouthfuls.

Kim Cattrall in the July MC: I think the show redefined what being single is about, which had a negative connotation of not being wanted or attractive or sexy enough or good enough. This was, I'm single because I choose to be single. I'm not looking for Mr. Right. I might be, in Samantha's case, looking for Mr. Right Now, and what's wrong with that? Men do it all the time.

My 6 Word Memoir- What's yours?

A couple of weeks ago, when I went out for my birthday, a few guys approached us and after some small talk one guy asked, "So what do you girls do?" Mary and Kristine kinda looked at each other to see who was gonna answer first since he didn't really ask anyone in particular and so I took the initiative. "Well," I said, "I'm a writer, Mary runs things, and Kristine writes blogs and eats sour patch kids." And so this later lead to me coin that as Kristine's 6 word Memoir: Writes blogs, eats sour patch kids. Mine at the time was, "Why, God, Do You Mock Me?" But after driving around with Kristine this weekend and telling her some long winded story about how I didn't care about what a certain person thought and how I was going to do what I wanted to anyway, the end of the conversation went as so: "And you know, I really don't care. I mean fuck them, I'm not here to make any fucking friends." And so Kristine began laughing and said, "That is so your new 6 word Memoir!"

"I'm Not Here To Make Friends." -Nina Christensen

Troll Bitches and big fat sloppy drunk boobs

So last night after work I went out to Brass Monkey to imbibe in as much tequila as possible before last call followed by as much french fries and other artery cloggers $20 could buy me.

I got home in a drunken giggly mood to find my roommates hanging out in the living room with some friends and friends of friends so I decided to chill out with them for a bit before bed. I could see one of the girls' demeanor completely change when I walked in with a "who the fuck is she" puss face on. Ok whatever. I tried to kill her with kindness which for me just meant I didn't kill her. She had the worst attitude of anyone I've ever met and kept trying to get her friend to leave. She told her friend she called a cab and another guy said, "But don't you live around the corner?" to which her response was, with much diva attitude, "I don't DO walking!" Oh ho ho ho! I looked at her and was like, "Girl! Maybe you should start," as this little troll bitch had some extra poundage she could stand to lose. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against fat girls- just fat bitches. Seriously. What's with the attitude? You're already rather ugly. Why not make up for it with a prettier attitude? She seriously looked like Carnie Wilson pre operation. On top of that- she was sitting on the couch talking shit about everyone- all the while her big fat sloppy drunk boob was hanging out of her dress that had shifted sideways. Where do you have room to talk about people when your ugly neon pink bra, that no one would have ever seen had you not been a drunk slut, is sticking out. There's nothing I hate more than fat troll bitches who are haters. But there's nothing I love more than sitting around with my roommates and slamming them after they leave. Boo you whore!

From Utopia to being stuck in the rain in a white sundress...

As the saying would go for me- All good days must come to an end. After the rare optimistic hey life isn't so bad day I was having this was the email I sent to Mary the following day:

RE: Kill me.

Yes, yesterday was a better day for me. But as per my usual order of operations it just never lasts long. I worked all night- very long but not as aggravating...got home by 2am after getting caught in the pouring rain in a white sundress....

This morning. Woke up feeling like death. Soooo exhausted. Finally pulled myself out of bed after pressing snooze for 2 hours only to find my roommate was in the shower. Grrrrr. Then I couldn't find anything to wear. Nothing. I felt so defeated. My room was so so so messy- I couldn't find anything, not the iron, not my makeup, not any underwear. I was so tired and already running late- so I was like I'm gonna call out....And then I texted you to see if it was ok to call out of work because you had nothing to wear and you didn't get back to me so I had to make that decision on my own. I thought, "Oh come on, Nina, that is seriously irresponsible. Grow up." So I threw on jeans and a sweatshirt and came to work. Once I got here- there were fire trucks outside. No one could use the elevator due to a fire alarm on the 14th floor. So we were all waiting downstairs. Fire alarm is still going off. After all of that, why am I here?

Mary's response:

Wow that is amazing. I don’t know how you keep up with your own life! It really goes from utopia to stuck in the rain in a white sun dress in like 8 hours...

And that last quote, my friends, just really sums up my life.

A Go Girl morning

Generally, my mornings are accompanied by a multitude of frustrations from my dress blowing up when I walk over subway grates to coffee lids popping off causing me to spill my entire coffee on myself. Not to mention the injustice alone of having to wake up before 1pm. This morning, however, everything seemed to go surprisingly smoothly. Caught my bus on time, picked up my Raspberry mocha frappucino from Sbux with only a 10 minute wait, the usual firemen telling me I look lovely...etc. What made my morning though was a jogger I stopped next to at the light. She had her ipod on and was rocking out on the corner. She was swaying her hips and throwing her arms up, just totally loving life and I couldn't help but smile at her. She smiled back, pointed to my ipod and said, "Girl, don't hold back. You know you got a good song on. Let loose!" And you know what? I was listening to a damn good song, Pitbull's Go Girl, and so, there on the corner of 38th and Ninth Ave, 2 random strangers who were loving life shook their asses to their own beats.

Happy SATC Weekend!

I have to do it- Must quote:

"Men. The bad ones screw you, the good ones screw you, and the rest of them just don't know how to screw you at all."

Nina's list of Fashion Violations

Here are a few from this weekend:

#1 Visible bras. Sometimes, when it's coordinated well and your bra is clean, it looks cute when the straps are visible. Sometimes, though it's rare. Never ever is it cute when the back of your bra is visble through a backless shirt or a shirt that has some type of cut out in the back. I don't care how cute you think the shirt is. If you need to wear a bra and it's showing, it ain't working.

#2 Leggings! Over it! It's getting nicer out. Spray on a freakin tan and show your legs. I hate when girls wear a too short skirt or dress and think it's ok if they wear leggings underneath. It just doesn't go.

#3 Labels. Give me a fucking break. I love it when a girl's outfit is completely tow up but she has that one gaudy designer piece. I don't care about your coach wedges, Louis bag, or Chanel earrings... Use that money to get the rest of your outfit in check!

Gemini's Rock!

Happy Birthday to my beautiful big sis, Judy! She gets more fabulous every year. Love you!

Logan Christensen!

I aspire to live up to the role of that crazy aunt.