Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Oy, London!

I just got back from a week in London late last night. I've had so much going on in the past month and the time away was much needed. I caught up with some great friends, finally met my incredibly adorable nephew, Logan (aka Wolverine), caught up with my big bro, had 3 interviews that went very well, and spent some QT with the best hosts ever, Anand and Jon. The weather was absolutely amazing, especially for London, sunny and cool the entire week. I definitely was not ready to leave!

(Thanks for the couch, the lift, great client dinners, chocolate balls, and awesome conversation, Anand! You rock!)

Monday, April 20, 2009

Rainy day tears

I've had a lot going on lately; job loss, giving up my apartment, moving, etc. I slept in my apartment for the last time last night. I laid on the borrowed air mattress in an empty room and was hit with a wave of sadness. Isn't it ironic? I feel like I've come full circle. This is exactly how it was when I moved in. I didn't have my furniture yet and was sleeping on the same borrowed mattress in an empty room.

I thought about TA. I wanted him to come over. Of course, he couldn't. I saw him the other day and I wonder if it will be our last time. He began as a rebound. Over a year later, I think I've fallen for the guy I've always known was all wrong for me. As much as I try to deny it to myself, I'm really going to miss him.

Rain poured down in the city today and as I walked down the street, umbrella-less and luggage in tow, the tears followed. I tried to stop, but I was soaked from head to toe, no one noticed my face was wet from tears and not the rain.

I stayed with Wifey last night. Sometimes you really have to stop and take a look at what you have and really be thankful for it. I have no home and my family is far away; my friends are my family. Wifey, someone who had recently only been in my life for 4 months, took me into her home, dried my eyes, listened to my troubles, hugged me, fed me, and loved me. Her mother made sure my glass of vodka was never empty. I felt so comforted. I felt at home, again, on the air mattress that they had lent me.

Later, she helped lighten my baggage, metaphorically and literally. As I held up random things, a hair curler, 2 hats, a bottle of wine, some skanky shirts, she looked up briefly and with a quick shake of her head said, "Yes, no, no, no, yes." In 5 seconds she managed to do what I couldn't do over days. I said, "This is why I should just marry you. You are the common sense to my nonsense."

I'll be on holiday...

My dears, I'm super excited to be heading to London-town tomorrow. I'll be there till the following Tuesday.

Can't wait to see my brother, whom I haven't seen in 4 years, and meet this cute little face for the first time.

I'm also going to be visiting a few friends, some that I haven't seen in years, as well as a few meetings for work. I'm a little nervous but definitely excited. Will keep you guys posted!

Sunday, April 19, 2009

My weekend

I had such a stressful, busy, and exhausting weekend. I officially moved out of my apartment on Saturday. I am so grateful for the help I had from my friends; Wes, Tim, Holly, and Michele. I could not have gotten it all done without them and feel so lucky to have such amazing friends.

I was completely wiped after the move but had promised a few friends I would meet them out Saturday night. Mary came with me to Shauna's birthday party at Plan B. Heinley, whom I haven't seen in ages, came to meet up. I was having serious hot flashes and didn't think I would be out late but who was I kidding?

At one point this guy who looked exactly like my ex boyfriend walked in the bar and I thought I was gonna throw up. It turned out that he wasn't the X but I could not believe the resemblance. The lookalike kept standing near me and I was like, "I need a picture of him." But how? The three of us were in giggle fits trying to scheme how to take his picture. I said, "I know! I'll pretend I'm on a bachelorette party and that I need a picture of him." Silence. Mary replies,"That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard." Heinley suggests,"Mary, we should say you're from Europe and have never seen a black guy before." But Heinley, the one holding the camera, mind you, is black. We came up with the perfect plan. We pretend Heinley is taking a picture of us and as the lookalike is walking by we say, "Hey! Get in the picture!" It would have worked perfectly except Heinley didn't have the flash on. The guy looked pissed and walked away. Out of ideas, we decided to just take pictures of ourselves, standing as close to him as possible. I need to dig up an un-charred photo of the X, but check out the resemblance!

We were having such a blast stalking this guy for pics. He and his friends, not surprisingly, were not too thrilled with us. Ok here's the only pic I can find for you guys to compare. (below)

I had such an awesome time with these two.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Nice = Nauseating?

Most of you guys might remember my annoyance with the pity-date-gone-wrong, C, the Nose Blower who used way too many smiley faces when he sent his corny 3 page texts and was just a little too eager. He was very nice, which made me feel very bad.

A little while back, I had another guy who was also getting on my nerves, committing the similar offense of being just too nice. He would call when he said he would, sent 4 texts to my 1, and showered me with the sweetest compliments ever. I asked Mary if there was something wrong with me because his niceness made me feel violent. Well, nauseous first, then violent.

Am I being a hypocrite here? I'm always complaining that there are no nice guys in New York, that they never call, or never rightfully worship the ground I walk on. But then a nice guy comes along and I can hardly fight the intense urge to smash his face in. What's up with that? Am I being a total guy and am just out for the chase?

Yesterday, A sent me this funny article on dating that raises the question of whether a guy can be too nice. I think I've had nice guys that have fallen into the first three categories mentioned in the article:

1) He's so nice he can only be a friend.
There was this one guy that was just so nice that he never made a move, even though I knew he liked me. Since he never flirted I just didn't know how I would feel if we crossed the "friend zone."

2) He's so nice, he's not challenging enough.
I may be a challenge chaser after all. If they call too much, too soon, it kind of takes away that excitement you feel when you see that you had a missed call from the person or a text. You know they'll be there, which leads to #3.

3) He's so nice, he'll always be there.
A couple years ago I had met this guy that was a total package but I knew that he was a super nice guy and that he was very into me. I had just gotten out of a relationship and didn't want to get into something serious, which I knew, with this guy, it would be serious. So I put him on the back burner.

Am I totally backwards here? How do I get past the urge punch these guys in the face?

Room 313... awesome show!

Last night, I went to my old roommate, Andrew's, cd release party for his band Room 313 at Goldhawk in Hoboken. They had such a great turnout and it was really fun to see some old faces. I should have known that it's never an early night with these rock stars.

Andrew sounded amazing by the way. So proud of you!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Stupid news...

I was at dinner last night at Iron Sushi ( Third Ave and 31st St...sooo yummy!) with M and we were in giggle fits over the news headlines of the day. As you know I spend a lot of my afternoons at home these days and I was doing some packing with the 12 o'clock news on. I was so bored by how much coverage the new White House dog, Bo, got. I mean, really? One of the daughters is allergic and the dog is hypoallergenic. The First Family is going to have to train the dog and give it lots of attention. blah. blah. blah. And then another 30 minutes all about Portuguees Water Dogs. GROAN.
(love this image by the way)

And then! A quick 2 second clip showing a woman getting rescued from a polar bear pit at a zoo in Berlin. That's it. Blink and it was over. Come on, News Team! Less boring Water Dog, more polar bear mauling stupid woman please! It was just a teaser. "More on this story at 5." I waited anxiously. (I have not much else to do). And the story was great! Woman jumped in to the pit because she was distraught over losing her job. She wanted to kill herself. The best part was how hard she was trying to escape, clinging to the ropes thrown to her by emergency rescuers. I mean, come on, Lady! Make a decision and stick to it! You wanna die, you don't wanna die...

"My friends think you're kinda douchey." High Five!

I was at brunch with my girlfriend, B, last weekend when I noticed a total hottie a couple tables away. I said to B, "Don't look yet, but that guy's really hot." I sneaked another peak just when he lifted his arm in the air and slapped his friend five. I cringed,"Oooh wait, nevermind, he just high fived his friend."

B, who had recently split with her boy toy, started laughing and said, "You know, Ex Boy Toy gave a lot of high fives. I never understood it. My friend, M, admitted to me later that he thought he was kinda douchey." For reals, all douchey guys high five and all guys who give high fives are kinda douchey. When I saw hot brunch boy giving the high five I couldn't help but wonder what was just said that warranted the kudos up high? "Dude, I just closed the Baker account!" High five! "Yo, I banged Jenny last night." High Five! "Man, this omelet is to die for!" Um...

Unless the high five was given after some sort of sporting accomplishment (sex not included), the high five is equivalent to having D-bag stamped on your forehead. Anyone seen Step Brothers?

I found this article in Wired mag pretty funny though. For those who insist on continuing to give props with this gesture, I like the 21 Jump Street.

Ok this high fiver is too cute to leave hanging. (Image via

Heels and Flat Iron update:

Just wanted to update you guys on last week's little experiment.

I flat ironed my hair the first day. My hair is definitely too thin to have ironed flat to my head. It looked awful. On top of that I feel like it hasn't been the same since. I can't seem to get the body back into it.

As for the heels, I did not trip, fall, or sprain my ankle as most of you predicted. Shoot, I can run in heels! But, regardless of my athletic abilities, a night out in heels in NYC is just not practical unless you're someone who takes car service and cabs. I was meeting friends at a few different places, Flatiron, East Village, then Upper East. I normally would walk and take the subway but I just couldn't do it in heels. And at the bar instead of being up and dancing or standing around talking to friends I had to find a bar stool to sit on because my feet hurt so bad. That lasted 2 days.

So to sum it up: I did not get a boyfriend. All I got were blisters.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Leggings as pants: Yay or nay?

I noticed the other day that this guy I had gone on a date with wrote on his facebook status that he was sick of girls wearing leggings as pants. Yikes! Was that why he never called?

(Read: guilty!)

Then I saw this article in TONY.

I've always been a huge fan of leggings as pants. I wore them for the first time about 2 years ago when I was super hungover and needed to find something to wear to work in the morning. I could barely function so I just put on black leggings and an oversized black sweathshirt. I had never been hit on so much as when I wore that outfit. I heart tight black leggings because:

1) It's super comfortable. Much more breathable than jeans.
2) It's not that hard to match things with it and you can wear it everyday like jeans.
3) My ass looks great in them.

What do you guys think? Are leggings acceptable as pants or no?

Friday, April 10, 2009

Con Ed says..

...if you wanna inhale 6,000 calories, you're gonna have to work out.

I woke up at noon today. I'm unemployed. My roommate was off from work. It's apparently some holiday. She was craving Shake Shack. I was not. I had nothing better to do. I said I would go. We waited an hour on line. I was regretting being nice.

We got our food. Half skipped home with to-go bags. Sign says, "Elevator down." We live on the 29th floor. I didn't feel guilty about 6,000 calories I ate.

I still despise Con Ed.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Happy Birthday, Big Brother!

Book Critic

So I finally gave in to the hype and read Twilight by Stephanie Meyer. The book was lent to me by a friend and I've had friends tell me, "It's such an easy read, you won't want to put it down," and, "You're gonna wish you had someone like Edward Cullen," to just simply, "I'm obsessed."

Ok, I'm just gonna say, I don't get it. It felt to me like Nora Roberts for teens. I was beyond irritated by the protagonist, Bella Swan. I think the book brought out the teeny bopper in me because I've been caught describing Bella as barfalicious. I felt like the story just dragged on and on with nothing happening until the last 100 pages. How much more could I read about Bella and Edward just staring at each other? And they said 'I love you' and they haven't even kissed? I don't know how real I expected a book about vampire love to be but come on! Maybe I'm just a sadist but perhaps a little more sex and blood sucking could have made the story more interesting. Most of all I was beyond irritated with Bella's lack of confidence and overly self proclaimed lack of coordination. I mean, this is the heroine? A girl who can't run because she'll trip, can't play sports without hitting someone in the head, and wants to skip prom just because she can't dance? Like, I said. Barf.

My friend, M, told me she enjoyed the movie and I thought maybe if I could see this Edward Cullen whose physical perfection Bella describes over and over in the book I might get it. I'll definitely say that the movie is much better than the book and that's only because Robert Pattison makes you forget about the story line altogether. Bella's character got on my nerves in the book and she continued to do so in the movie. What is up with her awkwardness?

I would only recommend watching this movie if you were watching it with your Rabbit. That would be entertaining.

New show coming this fall...

Dare I say it?
Me: I'll even move to a (gasp) borough.
A: Haha. I'll totally watch that sitcom over Sex and the City. Nina and the Borough.

What should it be, guys? Brooklyn or Queens?

Stay tuned...

Chronicles of Unemployment

Why is there nothing on during the day except for divorce court???

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

How to date a hockey player:

Last night T, B, and I went to the Rangers game at Madison Square Garden. Last time I went to a hockey game was with my boyfriend in college. It made me miss him a little. Sigh.

Anyway, we were hanging in the Green Room after the game, having a great time drinking free booze, me stuffing my face with cheese and pasta, and watching all the hot hockey players and their model girlfriends. I thought one Ranger in particular was really hot (can't remember his name for the life of me) and T and I agreed that his girlfriend wasn't all that. (I swear we weren't just hating! Well, maybe a little). We looked at the girls and thought, "What do they have that we don't?" Besides, size zero waists, blond hair, Russian accents, and an assumed below average IQ.

B pointed out all of their five inch heels. All with red soles of course. "How do they walk in those things," asked T. My wheels started turning. That's totally how they get the guys! It's the heels!

"What's with all the flat iron abuse," I asked loudly. I mean, how is stick straight hair that doesn't move cute? The wheels turn again. That's totally the look these players love. The flat ironed hair and five inch heels!

"I'm totally gonna flat iron my hair," I vowed to T. She wrinkled her nose and pleaded, "Noooooo! You're gonna end up with those little thingies sticking up," as she held her hand at the crown of her head and wiggled her fingers in the air. She means the broken pieces of hair that stick straight up as a result of flat ironing because it's just not normal for your hair to lie that flat.

"I'm gonna do it," I declared. What else have I got to do this week? For one week I'm gonna flat iron (Read: fry) my hair and wear heels every single day.

Taking bets on what will happen first. 1) I bag a hockey player. 2) I sprain my ankle.

Dear Vodka,

Every time you come around you make me feel all giddy. I start to think everything is funny, I get uncontrollable giggles, and my face starts to flush. You help me come up with my best ideas like that one time I went streaking through the piazza in Italy. You pick me up when I'm feeling down. You make me feel invincible. You're able to hang out with all my girlfriends. You tell me my outfit is the hottest. You tell me I'm the funniest. You encourage me to dance on top of bars like it's Spring Break '04. You make me feel as if I am the most beautiful person in the room. Some of the best times of my life have been spent with you.

You have this effect on me. No matter how shitty you make me feel the next morning, I always go back to you. Sometimes you leave me feeling ashamed. Other times I wake up, not remembering anything from the night before, and the smell of you on my breath is my only reminder that I was with you. I am sometimes left to wonder if seeing you again would make it all better.

I think, for now, it's best if we don't see each other.

Chronicles of Unemployment

Today, I set my alarm for 1:30 PM.

She got it from her mama

Since I've been in throwback mode lately I figured I'd include this pic of my mom. I used to get so upset when I was younger because people told me I look more like my dad.

I wanted nothing more than to grow up to look like her.

When one door closes...

It's been one week now since I've joined the other 8.5% of this country who is unemployed. A month ago I used my "safety money" to pay for the security deposit for my barely affordable apartment. Six days ago I bought a shitload of furniture to make my apartment more comfortable. The day after that, after I assembled all the furniture, I got let go from my job.

I was initially in shock, feeling like someone took a giant tennis racket and knocked me on my ass. Then I became angry. And then the tears just flowed. For 2 straight days. I felt like I had been dumped. I just wanted to hide under my covers and cry. I knew this was not productive or proactive behavior.

After tons of phone calls, lots of crying, and an infinite amount of love and support from my friends and family, I'm feeling good again. What goes down must come up, right? My friends comforted me with their words as C told me, "It's not like you got fired from your book." More than a handful of my friends began making calls for me and offered to help in any way, whether it was a loan or a couch to sleep on. My big brother reminded me that I always bounce back and that he would support me in whatever I do. Le sigh. The tears might return. I feel all fuzzy inside.

I took a walk around Barnes and Noble. This always calms me down. I hit the bottle. This always leaves me feeling temporarily invincible.

Losing my job was incredibly bad timing (I guess there's never really a good time), but I had to reflect and question why this happened. I was working my butt off to pay for my apartment. I wasn't able to put as much time into freelancing or my book. I realized this kick in the butt was telling me that I was going in the wrong direction.

A plan has been formed. I've got the bounce back in my step. Stay tuned... will share details as soon as the plans are set in motion.

Wish me luck!

Tuesday, April 7, 2009


Going to a Ranger game tonight with long lost friend, T, and her boss, B, who was the one that made the connection.

T and Me, Age 6. Some current pics to follow.

Frustratingly Unattainable K

It's official. K is coming to visit Aug 11!

Don't you think we'd make totally cute 1/4 Thai, 3/4 Danish babies? Ok I didn't say that.

"Please don't have kids"

Me: Ugh. Look at her, she's so disgusting. Underwear hanging out, fat rolls, just soo gross.
B: Nina, she's 3 years old!

Why I'm not a book critic:

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson

"I could have done with less family tree info and more murders and rape."

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Endless possibilities

I had such an amazing weekend and of course I have no pictures to show for it. I never have a weekend off and was excited with the endless possibilities. I usually always have to decline all the facebook event invites but I rechecked them and thought, "Ok, I could do this, this, this..." Friday, I just had some martinis and good conversation with my favorite bartender, B. Knocked a few back, got hit on by a loser, sent a bunch of drunk texts, and passed out.

I woke up surprisingly early on Saturday, it's all the sunlight I get in my room, and got a bunch of work done during the day. I got a text from M at 5 PM telling me she was drunk at Wharf Bar and to come by. I figured sure why not. She cracked me up with a story about my friend H who slapped a guy (in my honor) because he said he didn't like Asian girls. I was thoroughly amused and touched.

I had plans to meet A at her moms at 8 PM for some vino. I showed up at 8:30 PM with a goofy grin on my face, doing the pee pee dance. We hung out and talked till about 10:30 and I was off to meet my long lost friend, T, whom I hadn't seen in 20 years. Her boyfriend's band was playing at Bar on A on 11th and Avenue A. I was a bit nervous, vodka and vino rushing through my bloodstream, but we got on great and I ended up having a total blast. At one point I looked around and thought this is totally not how I normally spend my saturdays, I was in great company all day, and just couldn't be happier. B stopped by for a drink and later my friend A who lives in the area, whom i hadn't seen in months stopped by. By that point I was out of commision and slurring pretty badly.

I ended the night with a visit from TA. Why does he have to smell so good?

Woke up pretty early again today, room still spinning, but the sunlight in my room was making it so hot I thought I would die of dehydration. B called me to do brunch at Duke's. It's a gorgeous day out but I was slipping away into a food coma. Decided to take a nap with the windows open instead. Blue skies, birds chirping, cars honking. Zzzzzzzzz.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Only in NYC...

...does no one bat an eyelash when I'm unknowingly walking around Gristedes with my nipple hanging out! Yeah, I got out of bed, craving a Monster Java (mmm how I love thee), threw on a zip up hoodie over my shirtless, braless self, and walked out the door. Erm, apparently in my coffee craving haste I didn't zip up all the way. Another day to be grateful of little boobies. So small no one even noticed they were out!

Is this all that's left?

I was taking a mini blogging break. I've got some big things brewing lately and needed to spend more time on that. (Updates soon). But I just can't resist blogging about this loser I met last night. His only excuse could be that he was foreign (Moroccan) but that only explains the overdisplay of designer labels, so strong I can taste it cologne, and the so thick I can't understand you accent. Read: "Looking at you is like looking at a beautiful beeeech." Like a beautiful what? Bitch? "No, no, it's lika beeeech. A beeeeech." Bitch? "No, no, lika the sea."

I was happily sitting at the bar by myself, sipping (Read: chugging) my dirty martini, talking to my bartender friend, B. This guy walks up to me, standing extremely close to my bar stool, and says, "Alo! My name's Rashid. What's your name?" His breath reeked of cigarettes. Barf. I hesitantly said, "Nina," with a recoiled demeanor. (Read: Please walk away). He says, "Ah, what a beautiful name! You know, in Morocco, where I'm from, that name is becoming very popular. All the girls have the name." Hmm. Fascinating. He adds, "They pronounce it Guy-yan-nina. Or Ye-lina. It means 'One who likes to lean.'" He says this while he cheesily taps my arm to show a leaning movement. What the fuck does that mean? One who likes to lean? I turn away to face B, squaring my shoulder away from him. Body language, hint hint. He taps my arm again, comes this close to my face, and says, "Hey, I'll be right back OK? I'm just running to the bathroom." Um. Sure. Feel free to fall in.

He returned. B tells me later that he pulled her aside to hit on her. Smooth. We're friends. We talk. He asked me if I like to dance. I said no. He got up and grabbed a blond and proceeded salsa dance slash gyrate pelvis to a RAP song. Yeeeech. He came back. Proceeded to rap a song in my face. (Read: I HATE when people sing to my face. It's extremely uncomfortable and I just don't know what I'm supposed to do. Sing along? Bop my head?) I turned to B, purposely not looking at him. He turns to another blond. Stares at her ass. Dude, there's a mirror behind the bar. I can see everything you do!

He continues to be consistently repulsive for the rest of the night. At the end of the night he says, "Are you going anywhere else?" I said no, I'm staying with, B. He said, "Text me later. Let me know where you go." I was gonna say I don't have a phone but it was sitting on the bar. I figured, easy enough, I'll just take his number, he'll leave, and I'll never call. I say what is it? He takes the phone out of my hand and says, "I'll do it." I surrendered, fine, just do it and leave! Oh but the fucker, I should have known what he was doing. He put in his number and then called himself from my phone. At least he finally left.

Why is it that I find it so hard to say GO AWAY? Or no thanks, please don't call? Or no thanks, I don't want your number?