Monday, May 25, 2009

Overheard at the Beach

An unworthy tribute to the hilarious blog, Overheard in New York

Many people said some random things to me this weekend. I ended up out alone two of the three nights we were out so I made tons of new friends and heard tons of weird stuff. Here are some of the toppers.

Street Guy: So, how old are you?
Me: 25, You?

Street Guy: 27. Man, you're old.


Random Middle Aged Hippie Drunk Lady to Me: (She motions me towards her as if to share a secret)

"I can go out with an old man and have him hit on me all night OR I can go out my myself and have three hot guys hit on me!"

(Then dissolves in to giggles upon completing her line) Oh, and yes, she was out with an old man. Poor three hot guys never got their chance.

Cute boy I danced with... and refused kisses from, shamed for killing ducks (I think they call it hunting?), made recycle his beer bottle and gawked at for confessing to peeing in the pool(well, all of his friends did too! And then continued to swim in it.) to me:
"You dance okay for a conservative girl."
Bartender to random guy walking in: Hey, are you with her? (pointing to me)
Random Guy: No.
Bartender to kitchen help walking in: Hey, are you with her? (pointing to me)
Kitchen Help: No.
Bartender to thug stumbling in: Hey, are you with her? (pointing to me)
Stumbling Thug: No.

Bartender to room: Ok, just wanted to make sure she was free.
That's probably the best way to sum up my weekend. Happy Memorial Day!!

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

I´m headed to the beach this weekend. Sunshine. Waves. Porch Dinners. I can´t wait!! While I procrastinate packing, I figured I would make a list of what I need to bring. Feel free to borrow the list for whatever excursions you find yourself on this summer!

  1. Much Sunscreen. If I get more than 15 minutes of sun, my melatoninless skin burns to a crisp.
  2. The random assortment of alcohol that has accumulated at my place. Roommates, sisters, friends, etc have left their fruity, girly, rather cheap, headache concoctions behind at my place. A girls beach trip is the perfect time to clean out the freezer.
  3. Dresses. Bikinis. Flip Flops. There's my outfit for each day.
  4. My business cards. I have my funky home business cards that I give to the earthy, funky guys, and my actual job cards that I give to more professional contacty people. Ok, well, I've handed out cards like twice in my life. Its a new objective for 09 though.
  5. Laptop. Then I can facebook whoever I meet... its the background check of the 21st century.
  6. My new pilates DVD. I like to pretend like I'll use it. And pretend like I can dance away 10 pounds before Friday. (A girl can always dream!)
  7. My game.
  8. My undying hope that I will meet the perfect, fun, single christian man at the beach waiting just for me to sweep my off my feet.
  9. Cheese and crackers baby.
  10. My girls!!!

Yay!! Ok, now I'm psyched up to pack!!

Monday, May 18, 2009

Europa Part II

So, our jerky friend left us to brave the town alone. So, EuroShe and I head off to the club at 2 am following some strangers, winding through the tiny streets, completely unable to have retraced our steps if we so desired. But who cares. We were going dancing.

So, we dance. I tell off the doorman. We get promoted to dancing on stage. She kisses stranger1 we followed to the club. I text EuroHe and tell him to get his jerk self over here. And we dance the night away on stage in the basement of the club.

EuroShe ends up outlasting me. I was about spent and sat down to rest my dancing booty. I had barely taken a sip of my water and out of nowhere this guy bolts out of the stair case, does a little spin and plops down right next to me and starts speaking in all spanish. So, we converse to the best of my ability.. which mostly included me begging him to walk us to the closest subway so we would be able to get home. I think I asked him no less than 20 times, just to make sure we were on the same page. Haha. Stupido Americano.

AlFrio keeps my tired holidaying booty company while EuroShe shows off her staying awake and alive skills. Eventually we leave. Alfrio keeps his promise, walking us to the subway, all the while trying to kiss me and talk me into hanging out the following day. Quite flattering. Perfect opportunity to use the rejection section from my lonely planet book.

Alfrio sweetly says his adioses at the subway and bids us well. We disappear underground, happily on our way home.

But no.

Wrong way. Point A does not go to Point B.

So we wander.

And wander.

Go in a subway... emerge 5 minutes later looking bewildered.

Curse jerky EuroHe.

Smoke a cigarette (EuroShe that is.)


So, in order to get home it took getting my booty grabbed by the cerveza guy, the guy EuroShe lends a light to following us, me using the rest of Lonely Planet's rejection section, hearing "free sex" and "Sexo Machine!" screamed at us every corner we turned and my scream waking all the homeless people in the subway system.

We eventually make it home. And the sky is a light shade of blue. We planned on completing the evening by pulling EuroHe out of bed and stomping on him on the floor but somehow, we made it home before he did.

Oh what a night.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Pasty to Pearly

Work makes me a bore. Buildings. Meetings. Suits. Collars. It seeps into my pasty young skin, threatening to suck me in and turn me into a stupid building office meeting loving drone. Bye bye young fun girl. Hello boring peon.

However, I've made a discovery. I discovered the cure for letting out the young, carefree, spirited me that is absolutely irresistible to all the surrounding men.

European Air.

A week of holidaying like the Europeans has brought me back into my perfectly freckled pearly skin. I rocked it. In the disco tech. In the bar. In the subway system. It was fab.

My two Euro friends and I would embark on the town around midnight and get started. They taught me euro things, like words, how to properly finish a bottle of vino, and how to pay for a drink at the bar. I taught them how to dance like soulja boy, how to act out the words to Janis Joplin's Mercedes Benz and how to flirt like an American.

Well, EuroShe and EuroHe had a little thing going... but was way undefined, especially with so many cute fun foreigners around. One night, while EuroHe was on his way to get us drinks, two thirty/forty something blonds with boobs and tank tops snagged him and engulfed him in foreign conversation. EuroShe freaked a bit (rightfully so, he was getting our drinks for goodness sake!) so I asked if she wanted me to talk to him.

"No way." She responded.

"Well, do you want to talk to him?" I offer.

"No way."

"Well, do you want to talk to other guys?" I suggest.


So, I look right, I look left, and exclaim in my best accent, "Hola!!! Que Tal!" to the very near rather attractive guy.

And so, the battle begins. We chatted up the entire place and by the end I knew all the guys and girls names. Ok, well, if i could have pronounced them I would have known everyone's name.

The bar closes so we all migrate outside. EuroHe is talking to some Jamaican looking dudes. EuroShe and I are talking to a couple other people heading towards another obscure club.

"EuroHe, lets go dance!!" We call.

"I'm gonna have a drink with these guys." What??

So we end up splitting up. And the adventure begins.

I would tell you the adventure but I have some serious jet lag and after traveling 24 hours, getting in, falling asleep for a few hours, and going to work, I have lost my foreign glow. Therefore, I am off to my wonderful bed to reclaim my glow, and will update sometime when I awake.

Au revoir!