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Wow… this blogging everyday thing is proving hard.

So last night (tonight according to the post time) I went to HH with old college buddy, MC. As we work only a couple blocks away, we make an effort to meet up for lunch or a drink every once in a while.

So last night we are at the pub with pint in hand, when we hear this deep south accent behind us. And I don’t just mean like one guy, I mean there were like a clan of them engulfing our space at the bar. Before I can turn around, one guy pokes in next to me and orders “4 Coors Liiiights… na make that 5, na 6.” I smirked and thought, ahhhh, here we go.

I obviously made a point to catch the guy’s eye, who offered to buy us drinks, and then I turned around to see guy #2 with his long shaggy haircut and matching moustache wearing a leather Harley Davidson jacket. It was classic.

It was a matter of minutes before they started speaking to us and asking about where to go, what to see. Apparently they are part of some business group or something down in Alabama—one owned a realtor’s, or was it an insurance business?—and the other worked at/for Talladega Superspeedway. All MC had to do was mention that he wanted to watch a race one day, and the business cards were out and Mr Moustache was promising to hook him up when he came down.

We ended up chatting with the old fellows for a while and provided some NY restaurant suggestions in exchange for a round of beer. There was one guy—The Doctor, as another referred to him as—with an iPhone so we were able to get them mapped out well enough so they’d at least make their train at Grand Central tomorrow. Apparently, The Doctor was kinda in charge since “he is a Dr and is smart.” Ooooook…

Needless to say, NY is full of “strangers” (Note: NaBloPoMo) and you never know who you are going to meet. I could have honestly hung out with them all night. They were hysterical… in a ‘laughing with them, but add an extra chuckle at their accents’ kinda way.

After a while they ventured off to chow down on crappy appetizer platters, and MC turned to ask me if we should mention to them that we were democrats and that we voted for Obama. I Shhhhhh’d him instantly to which he said, “No? What about telling them that we’re pro-choice?”

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Yeah, so I already almost missed Day #2.
Apparently my heart isn’t in this as much as it was last time… and I also have very little to say. Nevertheless, I am here.

Tonight I had a wonderful experience—well, at least one that I am going to publicly write about.

I shopped at Whole Foods. (NaBloPoMo Note: Before tonight, I was a “stranger” to Whole Foods.)

Even from the quick ‘in-and-out’ trip I made, I can agree that Whole Foods is the most fabulous, versatile, well-stocked supermarket in NYC… (and I say NYC because Wegman’s exists out of the tri-state area, and, well, we all know that beats all other supermarkets in the world, hands down!… well, it may have some competition from Sainsbury’s but that’s up for debate.)

Someone once told me upon their first trip into Whole Foods, “I could run up my credit card here on cheese alone.” And I now understand. But not only was the cheese department overwhelmingly-orgasmical, so was their international food selection (you know how I love anything that doesn’t come from this country!) as well as the beer cooler! OMG, it was honestly too much to handle, so when my eye fell on something that someone had recently recommended, I just grabbed it and ran before my brain could comprehend the intensity of the decision I had just faced.

What did throw me off was the check-out process. Not the ‘scan the food and put it in the bag’ process, but the ‘waiting in line for your number to be called’ process. Three lines, three different colors, an overhead computer screen with flashing numbers on different colored sections of the screen… it really wasn’t that difficult—except for a new-comer like me. Every time a new number flashed, and was spoken by the computerized Wizard of Oz voice, I reached for my basket only to notice someone in another line plowing ahead with extreme confidence in their decision to move to the register number announced. Being the trusting person I am, I trusted that they knew what the hell they were doing and stood back and waited for my chance. After three or so gos, I realized I needed to wait until a number flashed on the color designated to my line. Ahhhh, there you go ELH.

But other than the check-out confusion, I was successful. And maybe it was the energy of Whole Foods or the ridiculously yummy ingredients I bought, but the chicken curry jacket potatoes came out gorrrrrgeous, as the Brits would say.

Maybe I should consider opening a jackat potato stand in NYC.
If I could learn to control myself around baked beans and chedder cheese, I might succeed.

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Every year my birthday gets me down. I always spend weeks hyping it up, talking as if I’m a big deal, and then the day comes and my smile fades, tail stops wagging, and I shut the F up.

I have no idea why, but without fail, I fall silent at turning another year older…
Until 2010.

On Saturday I turned 28. Twenty-eight officially puts me in the late-20s range, one step closer to the what-is-supposed-to-be-dreaded number 30. Thing is, I’m kinda looking forward to 30. I’m not looking forward to aging for the obvious reasons of progressively more violent and intolerable hangovers, and slower response time and less agility when throwing myself down a mountain… but I’ll fight it… mind over matter, eh?

I’m looking forward to it because they say your 30s are the best years of your life. Who says this? You know, “they;” the collective undefined group we attribute claims to when we have no valid reason for stating whatever it is we are stating.

Well, I believe “they,” and for good reasons, too. 1) Actual people whose opinions I respect have supported this statement. 2) And my intuition says, “30. good!”

But hold on: I’m getting a bit ahead of myself here. This weekend was 28, and possibly one of the best birthdays I ever had. And again, for good reasons.

It kicked off with happy [six] hours. I once again collected those from all facets of my life that I hold near and dear to celebrate with me. The most difficult part of the night was trying to explain how everyone was connected.

Saturday I headed up to VT with the girls—JMay and Triple A.

Saturday Night: Vermont. Cherry Vodka. Brownies. Hot tub. ‘Nuff said.

(Side story to fit the NaBloPoMo theme of “strangers:” Sitting in the hot tub amidst piles of snow with drink in hand, I thanked SBing-CG for his hospitality and declared that the weekend was owning up be one of the best birthdays ever. At the time I was sitting in the hot tub with SBing-CG and two ppl who up until two hours earlier were essentially strangers. Yet, new people, new energy, all good. (And yes, since my book apparently isn’t writing itself, I’m NaBloPoMo’ing again to try to kickstart the habit.))

Sunday: Stratton. Snow. Snowboard. No more fractured bones. Good day.

Car ride home with JMay and Triple A… bringing us to up near 10 hours of road-trip QT time.

Being absolutely spoiled rotten by JMay and Triple A.

All in all, it was a great time, great weekend, fabulous company and top-choice activities. What more could a girl ask for…

Happy Birthday to me! 29 here I come!

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For your Halloween entertainment:

From the NYTimes: Nightmare on Your Street by Lizzy Ratner and Seth

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So since the 31st is Halloween, and I’ve already scheduled a spooky death-related halloween entry, I will use today to congratulate myself and thank you all!

As of tomorrow I will have successfully completed NaBloPoMo for the month of October (duh!). I have posted a blog entry every day since October 1st. Some have been ridiculously boring, some insightful (I hope) and some just stupid—but funny—and inappropriate. And for that matter, some I didn’t even write, but RB’d them and added commentary.

Whatev!

I did it.

And best of all, I am now in the habit of writing everyday, just in time for NaNoWriMo. Therefore, starting Sunday, the “beast”—what my dad named my new laptop—and I will be embarking on the 50,000-word, 30-day challenge. (Ready Caitlin? Woo hoo!)

I had planned on doing a lot more reading and preparing before this point, but as always, those plans failed—I always plan on doing a lot more than I have time for; it’s my way of life!

I am happy to say that in this past month I have acquired a following. Not a HUGE following, but hey, I’m being read, no? I actually have been clicked-thru from Google Reader on occasion, so someone out there has RSS’d me! woo hoo! Thank you RSSer!

Anyways, thank you for reading and come back as I will be talking about my progress with NaNoWriMo over the next month.

50,000 words in 30 days… that’s 1,666.67 words a day. A very easy word count goal for my brain, it’s just finding the one hour a day it’ll take to get them on paper.

Over and out for the second to last time this month!

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Wow… and here I am dropping pounds by walking my dog regularly when all along I could have been commanded by my “master” to control my diet!

From lemondrop.com: Want to Lose Weight? Creepy Craigslist Pervert Can Help by Emily McCombs

Excerpt of blog entry with text from original Craigslist ad:

Ever been with an extremely sexually dominant guy?

I have had huge success with fat girls submitting control of their diet/exercise routine to me, and, as a result, losing all the weight they’ve ever dreamed of.

Think about it: You trust a man enough to let him do whatever he wants with you, you take a direct order to lose weight and you’re told how. How can you possibly mess it up?

There is no will power involved. There is no chance of you giving up. There is 0% chance of you failing. You’re taking a direct order from your Master to lose the weight, so you do it, the most healthy possible way, the most correct possible way, and its finally done forever.

And my reward? One extremely grateful, hot little girl that would do anything for me 🙂

If this sounds like an exciting idea, write me with a picture of yourself in your first email. not in your second email, not ‘lets chat first.'”

Maybe this is the guy who my dream was about…
(see October 31st’s Halloween Entry about Death Dreams… ooo)

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I am proudly writing this from my brand-spanking-new MacBook that I purchased today—the second one I purchased in the past week.

Why did I purchase two? Apple’s surprise-marketing scheme threw me a big curveball the day after I purchased a $1,500 MacBook Pro: they upgraded the MacBook model with all the same spec as the low-end Pro, but with a larger HD AND FOR $200 LESS. I mean, come on now Mac!

With a bit of forum research I learned that Apple always upgrades at the end of October–this year it was the iMacs and MacBooks.

So when my laptop arrived in the mail, I opened the Fed Ex box and headed to the Apple store. Explaining the situation, both the [cute] sales guy and the manager man agreed that I was totally getting a better deal by making the exchange. Unfortunately they couldn’t accept the return because I had it customized with a memory upgrade, but since they guaranteed I could return it no-questions-asked, I purchased the new and improved MacBook and sent it off to the backroom with a “Genius” to have my RAM doubled (out of context that sounds very odd—and slightly inappropriate).

Two hours later I was sitting at the library with my good friend attempting to “create an account” in the setup process. After the little timer thing spun around in rainbow colors for almost 30 minutes, I packed it up and traipsed back into the Apple store for the third time that day.

Less than 20 minutes later I was back at the library and typing away on my clean white technological savior!

I love it!

What I didn’t love so much was that the concierge guy who assisted me on trip two thought I was under 18. Upon looking at my license photo, he complimented me on ‘what a good picture’ it was and asked when I took it. I said, “when I was 16—almost 12 years ago.” And his jaw dropped.

To quell any possible uncomfortableness, I said, “yeah, I look like I’m 18, I know.”

To this he replied, “I was gonna say 17.”

:-O I guess when I’m 40 this will be a good thing… eh?

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