Valentine's 2008

Going from experience of Valentine's Day pasts, I knew not to get my hopes up this year. No, no best male friend of mine was going to suddenly tell me he's been in love with me for years. No ex boyfriend was going to return and say what a big misstake he's made for leaving me and that he's been beating himself up ever since. No secret crush was going to send me flowers to my place of work (yeah, I called to check: Um, hi, this is Nina, I freelance there a few days a week. Yeah...um, by any chance are there any flowers on my desk? No? Are you sure? Oh, ok then. Thanks).

Last year, my boyfriend had broken up with me just days before Vday. K, my wonderful partner in crime since grade school, came to my rescue since she was in a long-distance relationship and her man was on another coast. We got silly wine drunkey at 10th and Willow- a bar on the corner- then graduated to being shit-faced spinsters on Vday. Yup- we were those typical girls who sat next to 3 empty bottles of wine, alternating between laughing and crying- over a candlelit dinner. At least I wasn't wearing black, for once.

The year before that I was waitressing at a Thai Restaurant. At the time it looked like the job was going to turn into a career (yes, it was a very sad time)- and the other waitress, the daughter of the owner, was screwing up the table rotation, leaving me with fewer tables, and therefore fewer tips- my sole income. I unleashed on her. It went as so: "What the fuck do you think I'm working on Valentine's Day for? Just because I like serving shitty food to nauseatingly happy couples?! I just have this stupid fucking soft spot for this day and love cleaning up stupid wrapping paper, card envelopes, and rose petals from the tables?! I came here to make some goddman money you stupid whore! If you had any brains at all, which it doesn't exactly take a rocket scientist to figure out how to rotate tables between 3 waitresses, you'd realize that you're absolutely fucking me over!" You would think that got all my aggression out but it didn't so I went home and unleashed on my at the time boyfriend and then sobbed for the rest of the night. Obviously, blaming her for ruining my Vday.

The year before that I thought I'd be a good daughter for once. My mom was throwing her annual Valentine's party where all the guests have to wear red and since I could not come up with any alternate plans (i.e. no one asked me out) I decided to attend her party, knowing it would mean a lot to her. I wore black because I couldn't fully let her think I was going to follow all the rules- I needed the upper hand. To make a long story short, the night consisted of many Thai ladies, a disco ball, strobe lights, karaoke, bad dancing, lots of cackling, everyone asking me where my boyfriend was, and me sitting next to the senile husband of a mail order bride who was spitting up on himself. No amount of red wine could make me find the humor in that night. Read: total fucking nightmare.

The year before that I was a senior at Rutgers, single and rebounding (not a good combination), still absolutely heartbroken over a boyfriend who dumped me 5 months earlier, on the first day of classes (I didn't go- for 2 weeks). The girls at 65 Easton Ave a.k.a. the Female Frat House a.k.a Swine Pen decided to throw our first ever Singles Party with kegs and cupcakes. A sign on our door read, "Here's to being single, seeing double, and sleeping triple." Another, tacked on later by a smug guest, read "Welcome to the Gang Bang." We made kitchy nametags for everyone with names like "Meet me upstairs" and "Your bed or mine?" etc etc. Those pesty stickers could still be found on our walls and ceilings the day we moved out. One day, months later, someone sitting behind me in class had to pull a name tag stuck to the butt of my sweatpants that read "I love it in the ass." Classy moment. All in all, beer was drank, furniture was danced on, cupcake frosting was smeared all over, and we lived up to our reputation for throwing the best parties, even if some people still refer to us by the name on our tags.

This year, I find myself single yet again. Oh no big deal. Really. I was going to be making money at the bar, an underground hole where I don't have to see delivery men walking by with flowers for everyone but me, and I could still wear black without looking like those girls who are protesting the Hallmark Holiday by brooding or sending flowers to themselves. I got off work at 6pm, and my friend K who's home from LA came to see me at the bar. She's still with her man, and though they're no longer long distance, he was working last night. So lucky me, once again, I get to spend Vday, catching up with my best friend. Lots of talking and catching up, and 3 glasses (not bottles)of wine later, we get on the topic of past boyfriends, and go into giggle fits about some of the embarrassingly awful ones, reminding each other of the ones we've repressed in our memories. This got me to get up and get paper feed from the bar printer, borrow a pen from the bartender, and make a long (double sided) list of all the guys I've ever dated. We got so into this, scribbling away and cracking up, that were didn't even notice all the curious stares from all around as we wracked our brains tallying up these names. The lady next to us (a fellow spinster) finally had to ask what we were doing and when were told her she laughed, wrinkled her forehead, and then she too declared she was going to make a list. Finally, when we were slowing down a bit, the names no longer flying out of our mouths and onto the paper, we stopped, completely stumped. The number was high in the double digits but K was certain there were more. And then the bright idea dawned on us. Our friend C, whom we tormented the summer after we graduated college, because we found ourselves unemployed with no responsibilites and free to binge drink 7 days a week while she began a full time job at a big finance firm the day after she graduated, and we felt the dire need to call her every night, typically in the am hours, to tell her how much we love her, or to tell her a funny story, or to belt songs to her that the band was playing. Well it dawned on us, since she's also a wonderful friend who keeps tabs on all of us, "C would know!" And so, on Valentine's day, around 9pm- prime romantic dinner time- the message went as so:

(shouting) "Oh hey C! You're probably having a nice wonderful romantic dinner with your man. Hope you're having fun! (yelled in the background) But we were just wondering- do you remember all the people Nina has dated and/or slept with? We're making a list....a looooooooong list, at the bar, and we just wanted to make sure we didn't miss anyone. Happy Valentines day! Love you!!!!"

Looking at this list, 20 inches long (front and back) and full of memories, good and bad, I can't think of how lucky I am- to have lived, to be single, and most importantly to have amazing friends like K to share laughs with over multiple glasses of wine.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I remember my senior year of college where my friend K had 3 different guys show up to our singles party in hopes of finally telling her how they feel about her. One guy wrote her a love letter (we all read it and laughed), one guy sent flowers, and I think the last guy sang her a song or something along those lines. She spent the party dodging these guys and hoping they don't end up talking to each other. And it wasn't just that year- it seems every year someone chooses Valentine's Day to come out of the woodworks and profess their secret love for her. Me on the other hand- well, for example, this year my brother sent me a card that says, "Hope you're not sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream." Oh and I did get chocolates, a regift from my mom. Yeeeeeah.

From a 1-10.....

Why am I single you ask? Perhaps I'm too picky. Or too intimidating (read: F*in Scary). Or the guys I meet are all tools. Or maybe because on a scale of 1-10 I'm just a goddamn 7 according to my roommates' poll at the bar last night. Oh yes, we were out for Andrew's birthday- and oh yes, if you thought it was going to be a slopfest- multiply that by a bajillion- and that's how sloppy it was. I recall a moment when beer rained down on our heads coming from the fountain that was Andrew's mouth. Nice. The boys took a moment at the bar to take a poll on my hotness level. Some were generous with the rating, others, well- I got a 7 from Jake because I "ignore him"- which brought my average down to 8.3. 8.3's not bad I know, and I was told the only way to be a 10 is if I sleep with them, but still....I wanna be a certified 20.


(Andrew's beer shower)

What's new?

Haven't blogged in ages. Yes, once in a while I do leave the confines of my little itty bitty room- it needed to be quarantined actually- it was contaminated with a serious trash pile up and latent germs from the plague I had- still waiting on test results to determine whether it was the bird flu or scarlett fever. What else is new? Hmmm...totally green with envy that Julia Allison is on this week's issue of TONY. Seriously, aren't you guys sick of her by now?

I'm helping Rich and Semi plan a wedding in Thailand- woo hoo I can now add wedding planner to my already perfect resume. This is where I'm looking at. www.kohtaoromance.com If there ever were a chance in hell I was getting married I'd totally do it here. Until then... I do need a date ; ) wink wink...Can't be the spinster dateless sister infront of all my Thai relatives...

Tonight's my roommate Andrew's birthday. I just have this funny feeling inside of me- You know that feeling you get when you just know you're sick dog isn't gonna make it through the night? Or that an earthquake is about to hit? Or like someone is standing behind you in your dark bedroom and is about to clobber you over the head with a bat? Yeah, like that kind of funny feeling.

Murder mystery

Holiday Party

Next Year's Xmas Card

Happy Friekin New Year

If New Year's Day is any preview of what 2008 is going to be like for me I'm in big trouble. I pushed a drunk idiot on the train on my way home, woke up and flipped out on my roommates, wallowed and cried, and basically had a full on nervous breakdown. I suppose I've been so busy for the past few months, putting all emotions on a back burner, that when I finally had a day off everything just caught up to me and I fell apart.

Today, though I was not entirely ready to step out from under the dark clouds, I thought perhaps I'll have a slightly better day. But when I got to work I found that someone had stolen my good chair! Oh the nerve! So I was stuck with a chair that was far too low and my desk was at my chin. I cannot work like this people! And that just set the tone for the day I had.

But I'm home now and I'm ready be rid of my "woh is me" attitude. A new positive me? Fuck no. Just back to being realistic. I took a look at my resolutions last year and realized I didn't accomplish any of them. Oh man, what a failure. But seriously, who was I kidding? Resolution #1 was be nicer to people. I even added "smile more" in parenthesis. Ha! Talk about unrealistic goals! So this year I decided I'm going to undo all of last year's resolutions.

1) I'm not going to be nice to people who clearly don't deserve it. Somebody needs to clue you in that you're a jackass. That somebody will be me.

2) I'm not going to go to the gym. In fact, I'm going to cancel my membership. I pay $85 a month for the little swipey on my keychain and that's it.

3) I'm not going to stop complaining because then what would I blog about?

I think I'll be very successful this year.

The irony

I missed my bus this morning by a split second. Like I was at the back of the bus but the guy couldn't hear me pounding on the side so he pulled away. God I hate that. I waited in the cold for 20 minutes for the next bus, and then sat in traffic for an extra 20 minutes, sweating away in my winter get-up, while the girl next to me kept huffing, sighing, and using God's name in vain to show her frustration of being stuck in traffic. I mean, what is the point of that? It's not like the bus is gonna move faster or the traffic's gonna just part for her because she's cursing. It's not like no one else on the bus is late and also frustrated or sweating profusely. Then when we pulled into the bus station, people were getting off one by one, starting from the front, as always. And you're supposed to remain seated until it's your turn to get off. But the girl next to me kept inching closer to me, still huffing, and glaring at me to get up. And I realize the irony as these words were coming out of my mouth when I turned to her and said, "Calm the fuck down bitch. We're all late for work. It doesn't mean that you have to forget your manners!"

I still love you Dani!

I can't believe after that totally kick-ass singing performance by Dani Tila still did not pick her. What is wrong with you? I loved Dani before but after that crunk rap shit she did I loved her even more. Seriously, she makes me question my sexuality. Am I straight, lesbian, or maybe bi like Tila? Maybe I need to go on a similar show to reach my answers? Or maybe Dani would have her own show called Do you Dig My Box? OMG. I'm gonna go make my tryout video right now.

A spinster for life?

With so many people getting married lately I can't help but wonder if there's something wrong with me that I'm not even close to being engaged. Don't get me wrong, I have no desire to get married in the next few years, if ever, but I guess I'm just wondering why the offer has never really been on the table, if say, I did ever want to get married. I'm content right now but I'm worried that say when I am ready in a few years...the offer wouldn't be out there because I'm not "marriage material." I've heard of labels like "not the girl you bring home to mom"...could this be me? I asked my brother, since he recently got married, and knows me better than anyone else, if this was the case. While he claimed to not know what "marriage material" really entailed...he told me that I was a bit "difficult to understand." How could this be? I mean my blog is like an open journal for all to see. What's not to understand? He said perhaps he worded it wrong. You're "complicated" he said. "You not a typical American girl," he further explained,"you're exotic." Exotic girls don't get rings? "You're intimidating," he added as he seemed to be digging a deeper hole. Could this have anything to with my all-black wardrobe and my "go fuck yourself" snarl? I tell him I'm worried that perhaps I'm not girly enough. Or not the Martha Stewart domestic-dumb-flirty-live by The Rules type of girl enough. He tells me being more girly and flirty could help. I can totally do that!- I tell him- Starting today! Like Awesome! He tells me he said be flirty, not blonde. I can picture him sitting at the computer shaking his head with his hand on his forehead as he tells me we need to sit down and have a serious talk. Uh oh.

I love you Dani!

Is it just me or is Dani (the lesbo chick trying to win Tila Tequila's heart on Shot at Love) super hot? I've never had lesbian desires, and to the best of my recollection I've never kissed a girl- but then again I just think Dani looks like a hot guy-so does that count? If she ever had her own show I'd totally go on it to win her heart.

Don't Drink and Speak!

Rat Face Boy with rank breath at the bar told me (while spitting in my ear) that I was the sweetest girl he's ever met. Look at that! Me! The sweetest girl! In fact to quote him verbatim he said, "You are just so cute. You're like a gummi bear wrapped up in a jelly bean. I just want to take you out....for sushi." Apparently this ice queen has thawed out! Who knows. Maybe I'll start talking like Tila Tequila. I could do it. My voice is definitely as deep as hers. I just have to add some cali to it and say things like, "I will not be played for a fool (pronounced with 2 syllables)," and "Your shot of lo-ove, has ended." And I would have to walk around in bikinis and knee highs. Shit, I would need to go tanning. And I would only accept dates after you win a pie eating contest. I could do it. It's Nina Tequila bitch!

My Brother, My Hero

My brother left for Afghanistan on Thursday. I don't tell him this often enough but I am so proud of him for the man he's grown up to be. I mean, he went from a teenage delinquent who chased any of my potential suitors with a butcher knife- to someone who watches over me and my mom, lends me rent money when needed, sends me the most awesome b-day & Xmas gifts, and volunteers to clean up my puke from the backseat of his wife's car. If he's not already your hero he should be.

WE Vote '08 Party

(stalker shot)

I covered WE tv's WE Vote '08 campaign launch party on Wednesday at Tenjune. I can say I've never been starstruck before (unless you count 2 weeks ago when I saw Alicia Keys playing at the 5th Ave Apple Store, and I may have pushed some preteens out of the way to get a picture on my camera phone)- until I interviewed Susan Sarandon at the party. She carried herself as such a strong, independent, and intelligent woman (move over Angelina, I've got a new crush!) while chatting with me about her family values and political views. I also interviewed Kerry Washington (amazing skin), Damien Fahey (surprisingly hot), Chad Doveck from Altar Boyz (so cute but perhaps not so interested in women ?), and my new best friend Malan Breton from Project Runway. Perhaps he pitied me, perhaps he thought I was following him,-whatever the reason- he spent a lot of time chatting with me at the bar and he was the most charming, sweetest person at the party.