Your Girlfriend is Ugly

Why you should always keep your lip wax up to date

A few weeks ago my engineer friend and I were blowing off some steam at the office after hours when he picked up my football shaped stress ball (a gift in a bag during a work event, I'd never buy myself a stress ball on purpose) and said, "Get up."

He and I started to toss the ball around. Impressed by cannon of an arm he said, "I didn't know you could throw!"

"Well don't treat me like a girl who's afraid of the ball!" I shrieked. "Bring the thunder!"

He then wiped the ball at me. I was poised for the catch but took my eye off the ball for a second and SMACK! It hit me right in the face directly under my right eye.

"Oh. My God!" My friend ran towards me to see if I was Ok. While my eyes watered I realized that I hadn't had my lip waxed in about a month.

Not wanting to expose my stache, I covered my mouth and said, "No no. I'm ok! Really. I'm OK. Seriously don't come any closer!"

"Are you sure?? I'm really sorry."

"No no not your fault," (hand still over mouth). "Really." I picked up the ball and said, "Go long!"

I got my lip waxed that evening. A word to the wise ladies, keep your lip wax fresh because you never know when balls will be flying at your face.

I got a feeling...someone needs a little neck work

So this morning I'm perusing People.com when I come across a who wears it best. I notice Kate Moss on left but at first glance I can't make out the chic on the right.

At first glance I think it's Whitney Port, but then I read the text and I see that it's Fergie!

Whaaaaaaaaaaaat is going on with her neck here??? She's got some may-jah waddle going on. Fergie probably weighs about 75lbs soaking wet so I'm not sure where her fat girl neck is coming from but that is disturbing!

Strange encounters on the Metro-North

Yesterday I was on the Metro-North train from Westport, CT to Grand Central. My sister and I were sitting across from eachother; she was next to this woman who was going to NY to find her daughter an apartment (weird) and I was next to a woman who's breath smelled like she had just dined on dog shit.

As normal human beings do, we started to make small talk with the other women. The mom looking for an apartment for her daughter asked my sister where she lived and then she turned to me and said, "And you? Where do you live?"

"Oh I live in Hoboken. It's a really great neighborhood and if your daughter is going to be at NYU she can just take the Path Train right to 14th Street."

The woman next to me piped up, "Oh uh-uh. I live in Jersey City. It's the next town ova from Hoboken. Is nice. Right by the water front. I mean it can get expensive but it's a good place to live."

As I was gagging from her breath which was making a direct bee-line for my nostrils she then turned to me and goes, "I mean, how many black people live in Hoboken?"

Reluctantly I moved my hand away from my nose and replied, "Well I don't know. I've never stopped to count them all."

 The woman just gave me a side-ways glance, then she let out a breath (UGH!!!) and went back to talking about how amazing Jersey City is.

Who the hell asks that kind of question? What if I turned to her and asked, "Um..by your estimation how many white people live in Jersey City?"

Not so friendly Fenway

This past weekend I was home in Boston for Father's Day. On Friday night I went with my dad to Fenway to see the Sox take on the Brewers in Inter-league play. We ended up having two extra tickets so I invited my cousin Joe, a Sophomore at BU and a friend of his to the game with us. The seats were basically right on the field and I knew that they'd have a great time.

The game was fantastic. Even if you're not a huge Red Sox fan, or even a baseball fan you have to love Fenway Park; the history, the Green Monstah, the seats that barely fit my ass in them because they were built before donuts were invented. A game at Fenway is always a memorable one.

Sitting behind us were four guys; two older, two younger. They were nice enough. Talked a little too much for my taste but at least they were talking about sports and they knew what they were talking about.

At one point the guy sitting directly behind my dad started up a conversation with us. We learned that he was from the Cape, was a developer and really REALLY liked to talk about himself. Total blowhard. I lost interest with him 5 seconds into the conversation.

Just as I was turning around to bring my attention back to the game and Jason Varitek's thighs the blowhard goes, "These your boys?" gesturing to my 20 year old cousin Joe and his roomate.

I turned around slowly.

"Excuse me?"

"Are those your sons?"

I looked at him with eyes that could've melted gold. "How the fuck old do you think I am?"

"I don't know. They look about 16."

"And you think I look old enough to have 16 year old boys?"

"I don't know."

"Then you probably shouldn't say anything. I'M ONLY 30!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I mean honestly, if I'm going to have a 16 year old when I'm 30 I would've at least made good of it by going on Teen Mom.

Bus Face Plant

A few months ago, when there was still snow on the ground, I was on the 126 bus back to Hokoken when I looked up and noticed a veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery cute guy sitting across from me. He caught my eye and looked quickly away. I fiddled awkwardly with my iPod; there's nothing more mortifying than getting caught staring at someone.

As I tried to get past level 10 on Angry Birds (damn pigs!) I flicked my eyes upward and noticed cute guy staring at me. When he saw me look up, he looked away. I regarded him for a few seconds: dark hair, dark eyes, prominent nose (which I don't mind) and even though he was sitting down he appeared to be on the tall side. All good things so far.

We continued to have eye sex all the way into Hoboken. When my stop approached I reached up to hit the stop button at the same time as my bus boyfriend. We caught eyes and kind of smiled at each other.I took my headphones out in preparation to talk to him.

As our bus lurched to a stop, we both stood up and he motioned for me to go first. I lifted my eyes up in what I hoped was a seductive manner and purred "thank you" as I glided by him down the bus stairs. I was about to turn around to say something witty when next thing I know I am flying through the air onto the sidewalk.

Thanks to my puffy coat, I landed on my stomach, bounced through the air and landed on my back. Kind of like this:

Obviously eye sex bus guy wasn't a gentleman. He didn't come to see if I was OK and there is no way that he missed the girl in front of him FLYING through the air like a goddamn circus performer.

I laid there for a solid 60 seconds thinking about how very cruel the universe was indeed, when I pregnant lady wobbled by looking at me with pity.

"Are you ok?"

"Mer....mmmmmhmmm.."

"Ok. Just embarrassed right?"

"Just a little bit."

 

 

Pretty, Pretty Commuter

I'm not going to lie; by the end of the work day I look like I've wrestled an alligator. I'm disheveled: My hair is usually thrown up in a knot on top of my head, my face is shiny from sweating (yes even in the dead of winter) and running around Port Authority and my eye makeup smudged from rubbing my eyes in frustration. I basically look something like this:

So when I see a girl walk past me on the E train at 5pm and she looks like she just stepped out of her house from getting ready, all perfect hair and dewy complexion, I think two things:

1.) She doesn't work
2.) There is a secret agency that hires girls just like her to walk around in high traffic areas during rush hour looking perfect to make me feel bad. Like right at 5pm they all take their places near Au Bon Pain or the Hudson News and as soon as we commuters start flooding in they all nonchalantly meander through the crowd like, "Oh no big deal. I mean I always look this perfect even in the middle of August in New York City walking down a street that's being freshly paved."

Am I the only one that feels this way?

The Call of the Booty

I posted this blog on Burt Reynolds' Mustache back in August of 2008. For prosterity I wanted to put it on Yourgirlfriendisugly so everyone could read it. This is not only one of my finest blogs but it also still makes me LOL to the max when I read it.

For the record, 2008 was a dark time in my life and I have since matured from when this blog was published. Kind of.

 

Aaaah yes. The booty call. The only time when a 2 a.m.text message stating, "What are you doing right now?" actually means, "I don't care what you're doing right now, come over and plow me like you would the new corn harvest."

Any other time of day this text message is innocent and a simple friendly inquiry. But because it was sent after midnight, it's a whooooooole different animal.

I have had my share of booty calls and one night stands. I went to college, I live in the world and I was 21 once. There are people out there - men and women- who have never done it and that's fine. Doesn't make you any more or less of a man/woman. But even though you feel like a dirty ho in the morning as you stare at the guy that you don't know from a ham sandwich, it's still kind of fun. I'm not going to lie.

However, my last one caused me to take pause and reevaluate the booty call situation.

I had planned on having sex with a relative of a friend. I asked the friend for permission before I got sloppy drunk and proceeded with my prowling. The friend LOL'd, said "Sure" and that was all the ammo I needed.

I already had a night out planned with HLP and Brennon. We wanted to go to Alibi but the line was too long so we decided to hit up my friends gay bar. Brennon was thrilled and HLP and I were pumped for free drinks from gay men. I texted the Sex and told him where we were going. He wasn't down with the gay bar scene and told me to sext him when I was on my way home.

Forty cocktails later, the three of us squeezed ourselves into a cab for the 5 minute ride back to my apartment. On the way back I sexted the Sex. "Meet me at my apartment in 20 mins." Well, that's what it was supposed to say. I'm sure it read, "Mweet nme in imiy appreatnment on 2c mobs."

HLP was parked at my place and she and Brennon walked me upstairs to make sure I was OK. I fell going up the stairs and then when I stumbled through the front door I fell on my bed, lifted my legs up in the air and proclaimed to the empty room to "PUT IT IN MEEEE!!!"

"Uuuuh. Are you going to be OK?"

"Oooooooooooh yesh yesh suuure suuuure. I'ww be fwein."

"Uuuuuh ok. We're gonna go."

"Byeeeeeeee..."

Twenty minutes later my Berry rang. It was the guy calling to let me know that he arrived. I had passed out waiting for the Sex to arrive.

I got up and tried to look as alluring as possible. But as soon as I opened the door and saw him standing there with a 6-pack of beer, the 3 bottles of Kettle One I had consumed suddenly hit me and I realized that I was hammered and he was stone cold sober. Not good.

See, one of the best things about the drunken booty call and/or one night stand is that you're usually just that: Drunk. So it's hot and sloppy and nasty. It's not one person being shit faced and the other person being sober. Then you get into gray areas where the words "taking advantage of" and "she sooo wanted it" come to mind.

I invited him in and we both cracked open two beers and sat on opposite ends of my couch. We talked about his apartment and his job and what I had done that night leading up to him being here. (I drank, natch). There were more lulls, more awkward silences, more sounds of beer being sipped through a long neck. Then, in one of my most stellar moves to date I said to him, "Scho...wass your favorite holiday?"

He chuckled a very snervous chuckle, "Uuuhhhmm...Halloween."

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh. I hate halloween. Worse holiday everrrrrrrrrrrr. Mine's the Fourth of Juwy!"

"C-cool..."

That was it. That sealed my fate. There would be no booty call action at all that night. We both finished our beers and 75 minutes after he'd arrived at my apartment he got ready to leave. I stumbled with him to the door and on the way out said to him, "Wow. Scho I guess you just wanted to 'talk' huh?" And yes, I made the air quotes as I said this.

"I'll give you a call tomorrow."

Haven't heard from him since.

A note regarding my P90X journey

You know how when you watch Serena Williams play tennis on TV and she does all of that horrific grunting? You can't help but giggle because she just sounds SO ridiculous.

Well I admit that I'm loud when I talk and laugh, but I've never been much of a grunter when it comes to any type of physical exertion. During my workouts I usually forget to breath and the veins in my neck and forehead are popping out so far they look like they could lick the celing.

So when I start my workout with Tony Horton and crew on the P90X DVDs I feel like I'm participating in some really fit, 0% body fat orgy.

First of all the music is totally porny. It's all like "uh-tis uh-tis uh-tis, chica chica chica bow..."

And to make it even more awkward you have the people working out going, "OH YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! OH OH OHOHOH!!!! YEAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"

Straight up moaning and groaning.

I know it's because Tony is forcing us to do one more reverse chin-up but I fear my neighbors think I'm running some sort of swingers club out of my first floor apartment.

I'm thinking of making a sign that says, "I'M NOT HAVING GROUP SEX. I'M DOING P90X!"

P90X Week 1 Recap: What the Hell?!?!

I have always had issues with weight. Back when I was a kid I black mailed my sister into telling me where the key to our freezer was so I could enjoy all of the Little Debbie Zebra cakes I wanted. (She had had boys over when my parents were out to dinner. This was a no-no). Today, at the age of 29 my arms and back are paying the price.

I first heard about P90X from my neighbors and childhood friends Keith Callahan and Kim Parker. I would hear them talk about this amazing work out that changed their lives. "Yeah ok," I thought.

Then on October 2nd, 2010 I finally saw Kim and was able to talk to her. Turns out she and I had a similar story. She always had weight issues, never thought she could be in shape and resigned herself to the fact that she'd always be big. As she was talking I took in her new physique. She looked great! She had lost 68 inches from her body and she looked fantastic. I baraged her with questions: how long are the work outs? Are they hard? (YES!) How much room do I need in my apartment? I can't do a chin up to save my life, how do I do the work out if I can't do a chin up?

Kim answered all of my questions and I figured if she can do it with two kids then what is holding me back? My overloaded DVR? After work drinks? No. I needed to change. I'd lost weight before on Weight Watchers but the second I moved to Hoboken I gained it all back and then some. I mean what do you do when you move to a new place? You go out! You eat a lot, you drink a lot. You don't make smart choices.

It was time I started to make smart choices.

The following Monday I ordered P90X. I was so excited! When it arrived I ripped open the box and drank in all of the information. What I liked about the P90X book was how it was written; informative but also with a bit of humor! It made an easy read and even though I knew this program was going to be hard as hell it put me at ease.

I started Week 1 on October 13th. After talking to my coach, Kim, I decided to start with the Lean Program. So first up? Core Synergistics.

I stood in the middle of my living room kind of whimpering. I was nervous to start. I didn't really know what to expect in terms of the work out.

What I immediately liked about Tony Horton was his demeanor. I liked how he made it OK if you needed to take a break or stretch your legs or rest.

But that's where it ended. Once we started doing Superman/Bananas I wanted the man dead; straight up murdered.

And the Dreya Roll? Is HE FOR REAL?! I tried to do it once, fell over then tried to do it again and couldn't hoist myself up because my spare tire (aka stomach roll) got in the way. And I was supposed to bang out 16 of these?

Ya. Sure.

With 20 minutes left the folks doing the workout with Tony were sweating and moaning. These people had 0%-2% body fat and they were struggling. I was a heap of sweat, snot and Lulu Lemons on my living room floor.

I was a hurting unit the next day but it was the good hurt. I powdered through Cardio X. Yes I had to pause the DVD a lot and No I couldn't do a lot of the moves that Tony and co. could do but I tried at least every move. It took me a long time to realize that it was my first week! I'm not expected to be able to do every single move.

By the end I was punching through Kenpo X and actually enjoyed it! It's a fun work out and reminds me of my days with Billy Blanks and Tae Bo :)

I'm not going to lie. I was dreading week two. But read on to see how much easier it gets!

Can I help you?

This morning I was on the Path waiting for it to depart, minding my own business and rocking out to my Summer 2010 Greatness :) playlist when this couple stepped on board.

It was a classic case of hot guy dating not so cute girl and as a single girl you always wonder, "She has a boyfriend?!"

And this guy was HOT. Sick body but not too muscley, gorgeous eyes, nice teeth, sharp dresser. The girl was wearing a polyester wrap dress, had wet hair and wasn't wearing any makeup. Maybe she had beer flavored nipples, I don't know.

But what I do know is that this guy couldn't keep his hands off of his girlfriend. Not in a sexual/pervvy way but in a very erotic way. Like I couldn't take my eyes off of them or him. I actually turned my iPod down so I could hear what he was saying to her.

I thought I was being stealth by looking at him through my $5 NYC street Ray Ban aviator knock-offs but apparently I wasn't because he finally looked at me and said, "What are you looking at?"

I made a snorting sound of embarrassment, turned my iPod back up and stared at the floor. Thankfully they got off at the next stop and you know what? I don't care. I don't care if that hottie called me out because he made my Monday morning even more tingly than it already was!