Rougie: November 2010 Archives

So what's a single girl to do when her sink breaks?

Option A: Google local plumbers and then pay someone several hundred dollars for the privilege of staring at their ass crack all day.

Option B: Call your 2 best guy friends and bribe them with the promise of baked goods, booze, and wearing a padded push up bra the next time y'all watch football.

No brainer - I went with Option B. You would too if you had guys like Sumo and The Kaiser in your life.

The only problem was that I had longstanding plans on Saturday to have lunch and see Harry Potter 7 in Imax with Lilsaej up in Concord (over an hour away), but that was the only day the boys could install my sink because no one wanted to cut into critical football/race watching hours on Sunday. Then someone realized that I didn't need to actually be there because what would I do besides hover and/or get in the way? Seriously - I am not even sure there was room for the 2 of them in my wee little bathroom. 

So I gave Sumo and The Kaiser a key, and left them a tray of homemade mac & cheese, a dozen of the best cookies I swear I've ever baked, and the better part of a fifth of Jack.  I left for my day with Lilsaej at 11:45am, and when I arrived home 7 hours later, The Kaiser was wiping down the last bead of caulk, the mac and cheese was just about gone and so was the Jack. Also? I had an awesome new sink:


Seriously: I am fortunate to have these guys in my life because without them, I don't know what I'd do.  Also? Who would take me out to watch UFC which is exactly what Sumo and I did Saturday night. 

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Riddle me this: what kind of asshole keeps something for decorative purposes behind closed doors?

Answer: this asshole.



Et Voila! I have a giant hole in my sink.

How does such a thing happen?

One: Most importantly, you have to be the kind of girl who can give herself a concussion AND set herself on fire in the span of 3 weeks. Seriously, this shit does not happen to normal people - only to those of us who are *special*

Two: You need to be an asshole OCD freak of nature asshole and imagine that on the rare occasion people come to your house, and on the rare occasion they use your bathroom, that they will actually open your medicine cabinet and judge examine the contents which means your medicine cabinet is ALWAYS perfectly organized just so and that beyond the essentials such as toothpaste, moisturizer and deodarant, you also have lovely jars of hand cream positioned just so for decorative purposes. BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.


See this lovely jar of lavender cream?   


It was a gift - maybe 7 years ago. I've never opened it and I still have it.  It's primary purpose has been decorative however, after the events of Wednesday morning, I am thinking of tossing it in my purse and using it as a weapon in case I get attacked because that 1/2 lb. jar of hand cream caused this 4 inch hole in my sink:


So do you remember when I re-did my bathroom over the summer? One of the upgrades was the installation of this awesome medicine cabinet above my sink:

8 New bathroom view 3.JPG

Inside the medicine cabinet are 2 adjustable shelves.  Each shelf is held in place by 4 little plastic tabs, like this one:


On Wednesday morning, as I happened to reach for something on the top shelf, ONE of the little plastic tabs came loose and fell out.  One.  This has happened before and it shouldn't be catastrophic because if one falls out, there are 3 other tabs to hold the shelf in place.  However, in the less than 8 seconds it took for me to grab the rogue plastic tab so I could jam it back into place, the entire shelf toppled and the contents crashed into the sink...including the 1/2 lb. jar of lavender cream which was merely there for decorative purposes and didn't actually serve a real function.

What are the odds of the shelf toppling?

Even more - what are the odds that the 1/2 lb. jar of lavender cream would BREAK MY SINK as opposed to the sink breaking the 1/2 lb. jar of lavender cream? WHAT ARE THE FREAKING ODDS?

This is just one of MANY reasons why I shouldn't don't have kids - because I'd probably break them.

Also - does this shit happen to ANYONE ELSE - or is it just me?

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So I forgot that the high of being asked out on a date can easily be replaced by a crashing FML feeling when things don't work out as planned.

I won't say that I had high hopes for Mr. Investment Banker. But I did have some. And I was very impressed with the morning after "would you like to go out" text.  What I am not impressed with is the fact that actual plans have yet to be made, but I am already receiving requests for photos - preferably of me dressed as the Fetching Fraulein.

While I can be as flirty as the next girl (and sometimes even more flirty), for some reason none of this is sitting right.  I'll take partial responsibility in that I probably should not have told someone the first night I met them that I dressed up as a slutty saucy German beer wench for Halloween.  Totally mea culpa and lesson learned.  But I am also going to have to go with: "Men Are Pigs" for $400 Alex.  I think it has something to do with the Y chromosome.

The game's not over yet, but he definitely lost the round.  We'll see if he redeems himself.

In the meantime, I am definitely going to need an industrial size bottle of Advil.

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This is what I know: I don't understand how dating works.  The last time I "dated" (and I use that term very loosely because I really wasn't much of a dater) I was in my early 20s. Nobody texted, Facebook wasn't born, and I probably still had an actual answering machine somewhere in my house. In the last 13 years Rules have been written about Why He's Just Not That Into Me because He is from Mars and I am from Venus.  I don't get it.

This is also what I know: I am 35 years old and I don't have time for bullshit. Playing games is for children.

I? I over think everything. EVERYTHING.  However the most liberating dating advice I got was from my BFF The Literary Agent who told me to do what I wanted and go with the flow. If he waits 2 weeks to email me after a date which ended with "Can I see you again?" it doesn't mean a damn thing. It also means I don't have to wait 2 weeks to reply but that I can. Or I can not reply at all.  While normally I don't trust my instincts, I am not on a search for my eternal soul mate. I am trying to have a little fun so if I fuck up, c'est la vie.  I can't sit around and contemplate things like whether sending an email the day after is too aggressive or should I let at least an hour lapse before replying to texts.  Cases in point.

Last night the Realtor and I had drinks at the bar at Del Frisco's. It was a mission-specific outing i.e. when I was at Del Frisco's last week for a work dinner the place was crawling with hot men and could we be so lucky a week later.  I got lucky on 2 counts.

The Silver Surfer is an older gentleman that the Realtor knows through business.  He was there with a group of friends for drinks and came over to say hi. He and I were introduced, exchanged some flirtatious witty banter and exchanged cards.  Is he a long term prospect? No. But is he someone I may want to exchange further flirtatious witty banter with in the future? Absolutely. And so I emailed him a brief note this morning. 

For one hot second I second guessed myself. I thought emailing him the morning after was too aggressive and may be considered a turn off. Then I thought fuck it: I would genuinely like to see him again and I don't have the energy for playing games.  I hit send. He replied a few hours later.  I sent a brief response that made my intentions pretty clear.  Ball is in his court but it felt good to take charge.

Mr. Investment Banker is a whole, different story. Mr. IB was there solo last night. He and I made eye contact a few times and when I got up to go to the ladies room, he came over and started talking to the Realtor.  The 3 of us hung out for several hours and during the entire time, neither the Realtor or I could tell who he was interested in. 

Well, I got a "Nice to meet you" text first thing this morning. I happened to be sitting at my desk and my phone happened to be in front of me and I happened to see it buzz. Without hesitating, I replied back right away with a "Nice to meet you too - thanks for drinks and dinner." And then I smacked myself because HOLY MOTHER OF GOD - I didn't even let a minute lapse before replying. WHAT MUST I LOOK LIKE? Like some kind of psycho who's sitting around clutching her phone waiting for a man to text the morning after.    

A few minutes later my phone buzzed: "You up for going out some time soon?"

"Absolutely.  When are you back in town*?" Possibly 60 seconds had elapsed. That's it. I had done it again. The thing is: I had the time. I had the inclination. Do I really need to plan out when I am going to reply to a text? My schedule is busy enough.

* Right - so Mr. IB lives in Colorado because God forbid I meet an attractive, interesting, eligible single man who lives in my own fucking state. Seriously: Maine. South Carolina. Florida. Now Colorado. I call bullshit on this one.

Anyways, I figured that by asking when he was back in town (which it turns out, is pretty often) I was opening the door for us planning an actual date. HAHAHAHA. Apparently I am high on crack because the reply I eventually got was: "You looked very cute." Huh?

While I appreciate the compliment, why on Earth would you ask me if I wanted to go out, and then not actually plan anything? Is this how the world operates? Is this what people do? As an organized planner who likes to have things scheduled well in advance, this approach doesn't make sense to me. Do you see why dating gives me a headache?

I sent a thank you reply and that's it. No further communication. The downside of texting is that it's not an actual conversation with an actual end. It's more like a hanging chad.

So on the upside, I got a prompt morning after text and a direct request to go out. On the downside, nothing has actually been planned. I am trying to be easy breezy beautiful cover girl about all of this and let it roll off my shoulders. Whatever happens, happens. But let's be honest: this is me we're talking about and it's hard to shove 35 years of tightly-wound neuroses aside.

Whatever happens, I still don't get dating. I don't know that I ever will.  But maybe that's ok for now because I'll tell you this: I am starting to have a little fun.

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1. I am the Lord thy God - Thou shalt have no other Gods before me.

No problem.


2. Thou shalt not make for yourself an idol.

Obviously someone missed the memo on the "no false idols." 


3. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.

So yelling "Jesus Christ, asshole," when a driver cuts you off and nearly runs you off the road is ok. But if you keep texting OMG you're probably going to Hell.


4. Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.

And if you can't remember the Sabbath, at least remember Ozzy Osbourne.


5. Honour thy father and thy mother.

Translated in some religious sects as: "Party thy ass off with thy mother."


6. Thou shalt not murder.

Even so, it couldn't hurt to get a really good defense team.


7. Thou shalt not commit adultery.

Especially with this dude.


8. Thou shalt not steal.

Especially if you're a famous actress and there are surveillance cameras.


9. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.

It leaves a bad taste in people's mouths.


10. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house; thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is thy neighbor's."

Commandment not valid in West Virginia.

PS: So in case you're wondering what inspired this, the Girl Scout's birthday is October 10th aka 10/10 and this year being 10/10/10 she elevated everything to the 10th degree and all party guests were asked to bring something that comes in 10s. I brought the commandments. Well - my version anyways.

PPS: If you really want to laugh so hard you snort coffee/beer/Diet Coke through your nose, check out Bible Riffs. Funniest website EVER and the writer is actually married to my 3rd cousin twice removed so we're like, related and shit, which is pretty cool because DUDE: he is epically funny.  

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I always knew that I wouldn't stay in the house where I currently live.  I moved here out of legal necessity. I moved here because I already owned it.  It was meant to be a transition from my old life to my new life. 

17 months later I am still here.  So much for transition.

I still plan on selling this house. Well - fixing it up and then selling it. The problem is, I don't know where I want to go. I don't know where I should go.

So I sit on the fence.

I have lived in Smalltown USA for the last 4.5 years.  When I first moved to NC I never actually expected to stay in Smalltown USA. It too was supposed to be a temporary transition on the way to life in the Big City, but for a number of reasons, I stayed. I think it shocks people that a girl born and raised on the Upper East Side of Manhattan actually enjoys small town life. I think it shocks them even more that I am still here despite the events of the last year and a half.  

I love my life here and I love my friends. That's what I tell people when they ask me why I am still here.  What I don't love is driving 90 miles round trip 4 days a week.  What I don't love is getting home late after work keeps me in the Big City until 9:30pm. 

I miss swanky bars and posh new restaurants, but on the other hand I am totally content to hang with Sumo and the Kaiser at our local sports bar on a Sunday eating my weight in chicken wings and drinking cheap draft beer. 

Think about the money I would save on gas if I moved to the Big City. Think about how much more I'd spend in rent.

I'd have to give up The Stylist every 4 weeks because no one else in the world is going to give me a cut, color and blow dry for under $60.  

I'd have to say goodbye to my trainer who has spent the last 15 months kicking my ass and whipping me into shape.

But I'd probably say hello to an actual dating scene because lord knows there ain't none where I'm at now.

A move to the Big City would bring me back to my cosmopolitan roots.  It would also take me away from so many people who I have come to love and cherish.

So I sit on the fence. 

Since the flurry of renovations over the summer, I haven't done a thing. There is more painting to be done and carpet to be ripped up and banisters to be installed (yes - it's true - there is no banister on the stairs - just a knotted rope like you'd find on a ship).  There are cracks to be patched and landscaping to attend to and wallpaper that needs to be smoothed out and glued down. 

None of this is major but I can't bring myself to move forward with the cosmetic overhaul of my house because once the overhaul is complete, I will have to list my house. And once I list it, there's the possibility it will sell. And then I'll be forced to make a decision. A decision that I just can't bring myself to make.

So I sit on the fence and do nothing.

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I would like to bottle today like perfume. I would like to bottle how great I felt all day today so that next time life kicks me in the crotch, I could spritz a little November 3rd on my wrists and be reminded that sometimes, life doesn't just *not* suck - it's downright awesome.

It was 100 little things and nothing at all that made today amazing.

It was my new Blue Agave Cacao perfume from Jo Malone.

It was wearing my favorite fall dress from Barney's.

It was a steaming hot bowl of bean-less chili at lunch.

It was the most traffic on my blog since my original 3 posts.

It was silencing the voice that always screams MEMEMEMEME and listening to the other voice in my head - the one which reminds me it's not always about me and that's ok.

It was a really good hair day.

It was feeling confident. Today I kicked ass, took names and looked absolutely stunning while doing it.

It was work. Yes work. The thing which I never write about. Just know that today at work things happened - big things - and a large project which I am responsible for launching took off like a rocket.

It was dinner at Del Frisco's and a really good filet mignon.

It was letting my intelligence shine through.

Today was by no means perfect.  It was cold and wet and rainy. 

I had to pass on post-dinner drinks at the Del Frisco's bar - teeming with attractive men -  because I had a long drive home.  I knew I'd be in the Big City late. I knew I could have packed an overnight bag and crashed with the Realtor. But my life - for now - is in Smalltown USA and so heading home at the end of a very long day feels like the responsible thing to do. Sometimes. 

The drive home was painful. Dark. Rainy. Long.

I was tired. But elated. 

Part of me wanted to call someone because I felt like celebrating. I wanted to share the joys of today and ramble on for 15 minutes about all of the awesome that had happened.  But I don't know too many people out and about at 10:15 on a rain-soaked Wednesday night. 

Besides, one of the things I am working on is being alone. Not only when things are tough and I want a shoulder to cry on - but when things are amazing and I want to shout it from the roof tops.  I am learning (or trying to learn) how to depend on myself and keep these moments for me. At least for a while.

So I got home, poured myself a glass of wine - and not the cheap, everyday stuff but a glass of Gun Bun Cab because today was not the kind of day for an ordinary glass of wine; today was the kind of day for an extraordinary glass of wine - and I relished in all of the good that had happened.  I relished in how wonderful I felt.

Maybe I can't bottle today. But I am doing what I can to preserve it.

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I am the last person in the world who should write a post about politics because, guess what? I don't give a shit about politics.  Never have.

But in the midst of mid-term elections; in the midst of continuous INYOURFACECOVERAGEALLOFTHEFUCKINGTIME; in the midst of a shift of power from Blue to Red (and for the record, I totally had to make sure I had the right colors because, what do I know?); in the midst of seeing a barrage of FB status updates of liberal friends who are contemplating moving to Mazatlan; in the midst of cringe-worthy headlines like: "This is the night we witness the sharpening of the GOP's conservative edge;" in the midst of all of this I feel compelled to crawl out from under my comfortable blanket of political apathy and say a few things.

One: I am a registered Independent. I tend to be socially liberal, fiscally conservative and in general I believe in smaller government which probably makes me more of a Libertarian than anything else. I am pro-choice - FOR EVERYTHING. The right to bear arms. The right to say stupid shit. The right to abort a child. The right to ride around without a seatbelt because really, who are you hurting besides yourself?  The only thing people shouldn't be allowed to choose is jeggings. Jeggings are just a travesty. Period.   

Two: Smaller government. I can't get enough of it. Seriously: if we brought our Founding Fathers back from the grave through some miracle combination of magic, David Blaine & reality TV and showed them what was debated in Congress, I am pretty sure they would fall back over dead again. Immediately.  I think the majority of the shit debated on Capitol Hill has no business being debated by politicians.  Period.

Three: Our politicians have gotten fat and lazy. Regardless of party affiliation. Period. Term limits exist for a reason. Only they exist in some political jobs and not others. I don't know why, but I think fresh blood and new ideas are what will keep us moving forward. I am not saying that someone can't hold the same job for a hundred gazillion years and do it well.  But I think we should limit the amount of time that our civil servants SERVE THEIR PUBLIC. 

Four: Dear Politicians Everywhere: Please remember why you ran in the first place and why you were elected.  It is, unequivocally, to serve your constituents.  Not so you can charter private planes to jet around the country.

Five: I despise Nancy Pelosi and Sarah Palin equally.

Six:  Once again I have to wonder, is this the best we have? Where are the Thomas Jeffersons? The George Washingtons? The Abraham Lincolns? Where are the men and women who believe in this country and the principles on which it was founded? How is it that this year's crop of candidates is mostly made up of crooks, nutjobs, criminals and extremists?

Seven: The great thing about our country is that it is a democracy. And by democracy I mean that people can all live together, believe in different things, have different philosophies, and not murder one another because we disagree. I am sorry for my liberal friends who are dismayed at the results playing out as I type this.  But I am not dismayed to see the Democrats lose power (Taxes! Taxes! Taxes!). On the flip side, I have no interest in a nation run by right-wing extremists shoving ethics and religion down my throat. I might agree with your economic policies - but don't you dare infringe on my personal rights.

Eight: At the end of the day I wish we didn't default to political extremes. I wish that there was some sort of middle ground. I wish there was purple.

I heard this morning on NPR that politicians spent somewhere in the neighborhood of $4 Billion on election campaigns and advertising. FOUR BILLION.  Four billion to what? Piss me off? Alienate me? Buy my vote? I am fairly certain that that statistic shows that today's crop of candidates are not wise stewards of their capital. I can think of so much good that $4 Billion could do. Hate-mongering, name-calling, and mud-slinging are not among them.

Tomorrow it will all be over.  And I will be relieved because OHDEARGOD I am tired of all of this. And then we can all relax until late 2011 when the cycle will start all over again. And you know what? That's the great thing about being an American.      

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