Happy Wednesday, everyone!
Though this blog may be a couple of days late, I was busy having the time of my life in NYC with my friends for the weekend. I would say sorry, but I'm not. The city is truly a different world. This week, I will tell you a little bit about my experiences in NYC and how it differs from what I am accustomed to.
Having a car is a legitimate blessing.
After having to smell dirty people on the subway, falling over countless times on the subway, waiting for a bus and freezing my face off while walking through the city; I have never missed my Jetta more. I cannot imagine what it would be like to only have public transportation to rely on. In fact, I would have an anxiety attack every day.
Cab drivers rarely obey the speed limit and most traffic laws.
Last year, when I visited New York City, our cab driver rolled through a red light and hit a pedestrian in a crosswalk and then proceeded to drive away. When our friend yelled, "Sir, you just hit an individual" he grew angry at us. This time around, none of our drivers ran anyone over, but I did personally fear for my life on multiple occasions. From my friend's apartment to the Newark airport, I looked up twice from my phone to observe my surroundings. Once, we were cruising at a speed of 86mph and the second time my cab driver was slamming on the breaks only to come within inches of smashing the back bumper of the car in front of us on the highway.
The term "brunch" is used very loosely.
Where I come from, the term "brunch" is a fancy word for a late breakfast complete with coffee and a Belgium waffle. In NYC, brunch is a fancy word for drink your face off. Luckily, I was given a heads up to the events that were about to take place. Joel's birthday celebration at "brunch" was an absolute blast. I must say, walking back out of the club into the city at 4p.m. and realizing that it was still day time but my friends and I were wrecked was a new experience. Bottomless mimosas, screw drivers, bellinis, and bloody mary's will get you... every time.
It's not just Pittsburgh that houses straight-forward and idiotic men.
No, I do not want to come back to your apartment with you, and saying "got it?" as if I don't have a decision in the matter makes me want cause you physical bodily harm. Don't reach over and grab my phone when I'm on it, I don't even know you and I already hate you. It is not and will not ever be socially acceptable to grab my face while walking by me in a bar. I don't know you, and I certainly don't want to make out with you. Based on what I've seen of you, there is a 95% chance that you probably have mouth herpes. No, I will not give you my phone number after you just hooked up with my friend two hours ago.
No matter where you are and how outrageous you think you're being, someone around your general vacinity is outdoing you.
When Ana and I did cartwheels in the street, we were overshadowed by the homeless woman screaming in everyone's face as they exited the bar. When we rolled into the pizza shop 20 deep, the woman in the heels and full-length fur coat really took the attention off of us. When Meg got up on the booth at the bar and slapped the wall over and over again while singing at 6p.m. no one even batted an eyelash. When we went to the diner at 3a.m. with fifteen people, the table next to us had 20 people that thought they were on the cast of the Jersey Shore; all too tan and wearing animal print dresses.
People are continuously unaware of their surroundings.
If you know me, you know that my biggest pet peeve is slow walkers. This annoyance grew ten-fold in NYC. People that walk off of the subway and stop dead in everyone else's way is possibly the most annoying thing that I have ever witnessed. I understand that the city has big buildings and things that you may want to take photos of. But, before doing so, please get out of the way. You aren't the only person walking in downtown Manhattan. Get a grip.
Every now and then and when you least expect it, you meet someone that stands out from everyone else. This one is self-explanatory.
Other funny events:
Picked up a boy out of a potted plant outside of a bar. Next thing we know, he is in the cab with us. Said boy has an English accent, but tells us that he is from Denver. From this point on, I called him "taken." Ana falls out of a cab at a red light. Scott loses a bet and has to come to Pittsburgh to drive my friends and I around for a night whenever I say so. We spent most of the weekend talking about whether or not every girl is capable of certain sexual acts. We also spent some time asking men if they have ever witnessed said acts. A stranger asks me if I want to "sext" him. We watched a brawl in the middle of a bar in Hoboken. Evan and I do high kicks in the middle of the sidewalk after knowing each other for roughly ten minutes. I'm sure there is more, but I had too many beverages to remember it all.
That's all for now. I will write promptly next week. My birthday is next month so I suggest everyone mentally prepares themselves for what is about to go down. Andrea, I cannot wait to see you when you visit!
I hope that everyone has a great week and weekend,
Here's to enjoying our youth,
Xoxo
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Monday, February 11, 2013
Gym Etiquette 101
Good morning and happy Monday!
I hope that everyone had a fantastic weekend and is ready for another productive week of work. As I type this blog, I am watching the Grammys and what I can tell you about what I've seen so far is Wiz was high as a kite when he selected his outfit, Alicia Keys and Adam Levine are a hell of a duo, Justin Timberlake still has it and Christ Brown probably feels like a real dummy for punching Frank Ocean in the face last weekend and then having to watch him win a Grammy. Talk about karma.
The topic for this blog initially sprouted when I ran eight miles at the gym early last week only to turn around and see a table full of pizza. My gym celebrated it's one year anniversary and we celebrated it with..... pizza? To be fair, there was also some fruit. But, isn't pizza part of the problem that landed some people at the gym in the first place? You know what else landed people at the gym? Perpetual laziness and the inability to peel yourself off of the couch and away from the television. But, luckily for those people, you can still come to the gym AND watch television! Anchored directly above nearly every piece of cardio equipment, there is a television.
Every single time I go to the gym, I turn off the television above my machine and place the remote control on the floor. It's weird but I actually need the cup holder to hold my water bottle, so I don't have anywhere to place a remote. Yet, every time I do an extended workout, somewhere between four and five people will walk up to me and try to hand me the remote control off of the floor. No way I would have ever elected to ever pass the opportunity to watch Judge Judy while running, right? Wrong. If you want to watch daytime television and walk at the speed of slow on a treadmill, then you should watch television in your living room and march in place.
Mind your own business and don't look at my machine. Yes, I am running faster than you. Let me worry about that my pace and distance. It's that simple.
You know whenever you go to the dentist and he asks you a question while his hands are all up in your mouth, knowing damn well that you can't answer? If you see me running at the gym, imagine that there is a dentist cleaning my teeth.... I do not want to talk to you. Don't come and stand by my machine and wait for me to pull out my headphones. That's honestly weird. I'm focused and I'm sweating; get away from me.
Don't hop off of your machine and head home; clean it. Even if you were standing on the tredmill watching Days of Our Lives, you better go get the cleaning solution. To simply touch anything in an environment where everyone is sweating is enough to warrant a little clean sweep.
Don't stand outside of the gym and chain smoke cigarettes. If I am just getting to the gym, I don't want to eat your smoke on the way in and if I just finished a workout I don't want to chance my perfectly good health on your dumb addiction. Smoke in your car where you can't harm anyone but yourself.
If you go to the bathroom, wash your hands after. As I mentioned, we already have to worry about touching someone else's sweat. No one wants to touch weights after you had your pee hands on them.
Leave your phone in your bag. If you can talk on the phone AND work out at the same time, you aren't working out hard enough. No one wants to hear your phone conversation and no one that is waiting for a machine is going to like it when you're taking a personal call and they're wasting their time watching you instead of working out.
Lastly, and far fetched, do not try to slip me your phone number at the gym. I didn't come here to find a boyfriend. Don't try to leave your phone number on my car. YES, this ACTUALLY happened. This made for an incredibly awkward moment as I ran directly into the individual while trying to get into my car during a rain storm.
This week's blog shout out goes to my two favorite people that recently landed themselves on the injured list. Angelo had a surgical procedure after he pulled an ambitious trick on a snowboard. Secondly, Jeremy gets the shout out as well. Jeremy blew out his ankle on the south side last weekend while trying to run after Caitlynn who was "so excited to see Sara and couldn't stop running." Angelo is using his injury to pick up girls. Jeremy spent his week with a swollen ankle and being bullied by me over and over again. Love you both.
I am headed to NYC this weekend with my friend Scott to spend some time with Sara K, Joel and Ana. If you know these people, you know that I will need some good thoughts because they party a bit harder than I do.
Until next week; here's to practicing proper gym etiquette,
Xoxo <3
I hope that everyone had a fantastic weekend and is ready for another productive week of work. As I type this blog, I am watching the Grammys and what I can tell you about what I've seen so far is Wiz was high as a kite when he selected his outfit, Alicia Keys and Adam Levine are a hell of a duo, Justin Timberlake still has it and Christ Brown probably feels like a real dummy for punching Frank Ocean in the face last weekend and then having to watch him win a Grammy. Talk about karma.
The topic for this blog initially sprouted when I ran eight miles at the gym early last week only to turn around and see a table full of pizza. My gym celebrated it's one year anniversary and we celebrated it with..... pizza? To be fair, there was also some fruit. But, isn't pizza part of the problem that landed some people at the gym in the first place? You know what else landed people at the gym? Perpetual laziness and the inability to peel yourself off of the couch and away from the television. But, luckily for those people, you can still come to the gym AND watch television! Anchored directly above nearly every piece of cardio equipment, there is a television.
Every single time I go to the gym, I turn off the television above my machine and place the remote control on the floor. It's weird but I actually need the cup holder to hold my water bottle, so I don't have anywhere to place a remote. Yet, every time I do an extended workout, somewhere between four and five people will walk up to me and try to hand me the remote control off of the floor. No way I would have ever elected to ever pass the opportunity to watch Judge Judy while running, right? Wrong. If you want to watch daytime television and walk at the speed of slow on a treadmill, then you should watch television in your living room and march in place.
Mind your own business and don't look at my machine. Yes, I am running faster than you. Let me worry about that my pace and distance. It's that simple.
You know whenever you go to the dentist and he asks you a question while his hands are all up in your mouth, knowing damn well that you can't answer? If you see me running at the gym, imagine that there is a dentist cleaning my teeth.... I do not want to talk to you. Don't come and stand by my machine and wait for me to pull out my headphones. That's honestly weird. I'm focused and I'm sweating; get away from me.
Don't hop off of your machine and head home; clean it. Even if you were standing on the tredmill watching Days of Our Lives, you better go get the cleaning solution. To simply touch anything in an environment where everyone is sweating is enough to warrant a little clean sweep.
Don't stand outside of the gym and chain smoke cigarettes. If I am just getting to the gym, I don't want to eat your smoke on the way in and if I just finished a workout I don't want to chance my perfectly good health on your dumb addiction. Smoke in your car where you can't harm anyone but yourself.
If you go to the bathroom, wash your hands after. As I mentioned, we already have to worry about touching someone else's sweat. No one wants to touch weights after you had your pee hands on them.
Leave your phone in your bag. If you can talk on the phone AND work out at the same time, you aren't working out hard enough. No one wants to hear your phone conversation and no one that is waiting for a machine is going to like it when you're taking a personal call and they're wasting their time watching you instead of working out.
Lastly, and far fetched, do not try to slip me your phone number at the gym. I didn't come here to find a boyfriend. Don't try to leave your phone number on my car. YES, this ACTUALLY happened. This made for an incredibly awkward moment as I ran directly into the individual while trying to get into my car during a rain storm.
This week's blog shout out goes to my two favorite people that recently landed themselves on the injured list. Angelo had a surgical procedure after he pulled an ambitious trick on a snowboard. Secondly, Jeremy gets the shout out as well. Jeremy blew out his ankle on the south side last weekend while trying to run after Caitlynn who was "so excited to see Sara and couldn't stop running." Angelo is using his injury to pick up girls. Jeremy spent his week with a swollen ankle and being bullied by me over and over again. Love you both.
I am headed to NYC this weekend with my friend Scott to spend some time with Sara K, Joel and Ana. If you know these people, you know that I will need some good thoughts because they party a bit harder than I do.
Until next week; here's to practicing proper gym etiquette,
Xoxo <3
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
The Belly Pictures HAVE to Stop
Sorry for the continued delay in my blog posts. I failed to post on Monday morning because I went a little too hard on Sunday night bonging beers for a the Super Bowl that I really didn't care about much at all. Regardless, my friends and I had a blast enjoying our rendition of Sunday Funday.
And now, moving on to the topic at hand...
Over the last couple of weeks I have been dabbling in the idea of deleting my Facebook account based on a multitude of reasons. Honestly, I don't really even know half of the people I am "friends" with on here, and I have a difficult time being rude to most people. Therefore, I talk to almost anyone that messages me, which has gotten me into trouble with some crazy people that genuinely believed that Facebook messages mean that we are partaking in a legitimate relationship with one another.
After talking to some friends about the possibility of deleting my account, we came up with the idea that I would only sign onto it to post witty statuses and that I would continue to promote my blog weekly. Just when I thought I could come to terms with the overwhelming and continuous engagement announcements and wedding photos, I signed onto my account early this morning to see that at the tippy top of my news feed, there was a photo of a girl's pregnant stomach.
Hold the fucking phone.
If you have come to a point in your life that you want to have babies, good for you. I mean it, good for you guys. But I am not at that point in my life, and I do not want to see what happens to your body when you decide to have a child. In fact, I am already absolutely mortified by the idea of having children. She sheer thought of being pregnant makes me physically ill. So, when I log onto a social media website, the absolute last thing that I want to see is your stomach stretched out with a baby inside of it.
You want to capture the moment? Fantastic. I don't blame you. If and when I grow up and decide to have babies, perhaps I will find the need to photograph my belly too. But, rest assured, I will not post my belly pictures for the world to see.
This morning, just as I took my first sip of coffee and clicked on the Facebook app, I shouted out in fear and disgust, "GROSS! You have to be kidding me." As you could imagine, a man sitting next to me asked, "What's wrong?" And when I showed him the belly pic at the top of my news feed, he began telling me about a strategy that he has implemented in order to avoid these pregnancy pictures. When one of his "friends" uploads a belly pic, they automatically get deleted from his feed and when one of his other friends "likes" or comments on said belly pic, they get deleted from his feed also. I think that this is a good temporary fix, so I am going to try that this week.
Also, while we are on the topic... the sonogram pictures freak me out too, specifically the 3D ones. Unless you intend to change your Facebook name to "The Fetus of (your name)" then please please please do not make your profile picture your sonogram photo.
I think that someone should create a new social network aimed specifically for pregnant women. Here, they would be able to share belly pictures and sonogram pictures in an outlet aimed specifically to them. I would call it Pregstagram. If you weren't pregnant, but you enjoyed seeing stretched out stomachs, you could join the site also. At least then, those subscribed would know just what they are in for.
If this post offended you, I apologize but, you are probably the same people that offended my state of mind early this morning.
Additionally, I would like to say hello and I love you to Mary Kate Fullerton and Molly McGregor, because the two of them have been begging me for a blog shout out since the inception of the blog. I will be in NYC next weekend, so I better see you two beauties.
I'll write promptly next week, but in the meantime...
Here's to avoiding the things that absolutely gross us out,
Xoxo <3
And now, moving on to the topic at hand...
Over the last couple of weeks I have been dabbling in the idea of deleting my Facebook account based on a multitude of reasons. Honestly, I don't really even know half of the people I am "friends" with on here, and I have a difficult time being rude to most people. Therefore, I talk to almost anyone that messages me, which has gotten me into trouble with some crazy people that genuinely believed that Facebook messages mean that we are partaking in a legitimate relationship with one another.
After talking to some friends about the possibility of deleting my account, we came up with the idea that I would only sign onto it to post witty statuses and that I would continue to promote my blog weekly. Just when I thought I could come to terms with the overwhelming and continuous engagement announcements and wedding photos, I signed onto my account early this morning to see that at the tippy top of my news feed, there was a photo of a girl's pregnant stomach.
Hold the fucking phone.
If you have come to a point in your life that you want to have babies, good for you. I mean it, good for you guys. But I am not at that point in my life, and I do not want to see what happens to your body when you decide to have a child. In fact, I am already absolutely mortified by the idea of having children. She sheer thought of being pregnant makes me physically ill. So, when I log onto a social media website, the absolute last thing that I want to see is your stomach stretched out with a baby inside of it.
You want to capture the moment? Fantastic. I don't blame you. If and when I grow up and decide to have babies, perhaps I will find the need to photograph my belly too. But, rest assured, I will not post my belly pictures for the world to see.
This morning, just as I took my first sip of coffee and clicked on the Facebook app, I shouted out in fear and disgust, "GROSS! You have to be kidding me." As you could imagine, a man sitting next to me asked, "What's wrong?" And when I showed him the belly pic at the top of my news feed, he began telling me about a strategy that he has implemented in order to avoid these pregnancy pictures. When one of his "friends" uploads a belly pic, they automatically get deleted from his feed and when one of his other friends "likes" or comments on said belly pic, they get deleted from his feed also. I think that this is a good temporary fix, so I am going to try that this week.
Also, while we are on the topic... the sonogram pictures freak me out too, specifically the 3D ones. Unless you intend to change your Facebook name to "The Fetus of (your name)" then please please please do not make your profile picture your sonogram photo.
I think that someone should create a new social network aimed specifically for pregnant women. Here, they would be able to share belly pictures and sonogram pictures in an outlet aimed specifically to them. I would call it Pregstagram. If you weren't pregnant, but you enjoyed seeing stretched out stomachs, you could join the site also. At least then, those subscribed would know just what they are in for.
If this post offended you, I apologize but, you are probably the same people that offended my state of mind early this morning.
Additionally, I would like to say hello and I love you to Mary Kate Fullerton and Molly McGregor, because the two of them have been begging me for a blog shout out since the inception of the blog. I will be in NYC next weekend, so I better see you two beauties.
I'll write promptly next week, but in the meantime...
Here's to avoiding the things that absolutely gross us out,
Xoxo <3
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